POTUS: A Powerplay Novel

by Selena Laurence

  Jessica’s eyes widened.

  “There is a loophole in the current trade laws. Your advisors can explain it to you in detail, but the bottom line is that what we’re proposing with the Millennial Accord would close that loophole, and the Bratva’s plans for a substantial income-producing scheme would be killed at the same time.”

  Like a room lit by a bulb on a dimmer switch, illumination grew steadily for a moment as Jessica processed what he’d just told her.

  “Oh.” She finally exhaled the word.

  “Yes,” Kamal agreed gruffly.

  “So they thought by taking me out, it would end the accord?”

  “Madam President, I’m afraid to say that they might have been aiming for either one of us, although certainly assassinating you would have put the accord talks on the back burner for longer. Killing me would have delayed things, but a new ambassador would have been installed within a month.”

  As odd as it was, Jessica hadn’t suffered any residual trauma from the attempt on her life. As president, and particularly as the first woman president, she’d always known that certain groups and people would rather see her dead than in the White House. In all honesty, she was surprised that there’d been only one attempt on her life in the two plus years she’d been in office. The possibility was there, and she’d grown used to that a long time ago.

  However, the idea that someone might try to kill Kamal was singularly distressing to her. She hated the thought that a bullet could have ripped through his virile, strong body while she sat next to him on that sultry night in the White House gardens. Just as one had taken down the young, handsome Senator Melville only today. The image of Kamal’s blood on her hands caused a shiver to roll through her.

  “Madam President? Are you okay?”

  She blinked at him, sitting whole and well before her. And suddenly she didn’t care about who had shot at them or why, she didn’t care about the Bratva or terrorists, or the fact that she was the president. All that mattered to her was that she’d spent six long years trying to live John’s life for him, and she was sick to death of it. She was sick of martyring herself for a man who wasn’t even there to see the sacrifice. President Jessica Hampton was tired, and she was lonely, and she was sitting in front of a kind, good man she was attracted to, and she wanted to live again—for her.

  “Kamal?” she asked softly, watching him with so much need coursing through her veins, it felt like she’d injected it undiluted.

  “Yes,” he answered, almost as if he knew what she was asking before she’d asked it.

  “I would like to invite you to dinner this evening. In the residence.” She held her breath, hoping he would know what she was asking of him.

  He watched her warily. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Her voice didn’t waver. “I’m very sure.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Because you’re alive, and so am I,” she answered simply.

  A smile worked its way across his face, causing a dimple to break out in his five o’clock shadow, softening his masculine features and putting a sparkle in his dark eyes.

  “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be this evening than with you.”

  She stood and reached a hand out to him. As he took hers, he leaned over and placed a tender kiss to the inside of her wrist, and Jessica’s entire body turned to jelly, wobbly, transparent, moldable.

  “A late dinner, then. I’ll send instructions for your driver and have one of my agents meet you at the door,” she told him quietly, hoping that he would see in her eyes what he needed to know.

  “Of course. I’ll leave the arrangements to your discretion.”

  With that, the Egyptian ambassador left the Oval Office, and the president of the United States went on to meet with the secretary of education, all the while wondering if she’d really be able to shed six years in one sultry night.

  Chapter 10

  Kamal hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was nervous. He had plenty of experience with women. One-night stands just for fun, daughters of Egypt’s elite the few times he’d attempted serious relationships. American girlfriends during college because even though he knew his father would never allow him to be serious about an American, they were the women he actually preferred. But he’d never pursued a woman as significant as Jessica Hampton.

  It wasn’t simply that she was so powerful. Truth be told, he rather relished the idea of taking all that power to bed. The image of putting the president of the United States on her back and making her cry out his name was nothing but a sheer turn-on. But Jessica wasn’t just powerful, she was intelligent, beautiful, captivating, and refined. And she was whole—a whole human being who had shown over the course of a political career that she didn’t need a man. Kamal wasn’t sure what to do with that. He was certain that he’d never dated a woman who had so little need for a man in her life. What if she decided after tonight that she had no need for him?

  “How long will you be, Mr. Ambassador?” his driver asked as they pulled up to the private parking area of the White House.

  “I’m not sure,” Kamal said. Hopefully, a good long while. “Feel free to sit in the back to watch a movie or take a nap. I’d send you home, but when it’s time to go, I want to be able to do so quickly.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s not a problem. Please let me know if you need anything.”

  As Kamal exited the car, he was met by a Secret Service agent with neatly trimmed dark blond hair and a gun holstered at his hip.

  “Mr. Ambassador,” the agent said. “The president has asked me to escort you upstairs.” They entered through a side door rather than the main one visitors typically used. Once inside, they walked through a small office and into a stairwell that was obviously for service purposes, not the grand staircase normally used to access the White House residence.

  When they reached the top, the agent gestured for Kamal to step into a small sitting room with only an armchair and a side table.

  “The president will be right with you, sir.” The agent gave Kamal a hard look. “And I will be nearby should either of you need anything.” The message was clear—this man was watching out for his president—and Kamal respected his service.

  “Thank you,” he answered. Then the agent moved past him to another part of the apartment while Kamal sat to wait.

  But he’d hardly gotten seated before the president herself appeared, and he knew without a doubt that, nerves or not, no other woman was going to do. This one. This one was everything he could ever dream of in a female, and he wanted nothing more than to show her that he could be every dream she’d ever had as well.

  “Hi,” she murmured.

  “Jessica.” Kamal lifted her hand to his lips as he had in her office, this time placing a sweet kiss on her palm before holding it against his cheek for just a moment. He reveled in the feel of her soft, cool skin.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Famished.” And he knew she could see exactly what he was hungry for in his eyes. Because polite, patient Kamal was quickly exiting the building, and his replacement was going to devour this woman whole if she gave him half a chance.

  Jessica led him to a private dining room with windows along one side. The table was already set for two, covered platters keeping the food warm.

  “I wanted to cook you dinner,” she lamented.

  Kamal raised one eyebrow. “You cook?”

  “I love to cook. Or at least I did. Before…” she waved her arm around the room, “all this. But I had meetings all afternoon and then needed to record a radio show for the anniversary of public radio this evening, so I was forced to ask the kitchen to bring our food up.”

  He pulled out her chair for her and then seated himself. “I couldn’t care less if the food was cooked by a Cordon Bleu chef or a legion of fast-food workers. I’m just glad to be here with you.”

  They sat and ate the adequate meal. The conversation was sparse, and Jessica looked less and less com
fortable as the night went on.

  As he pushed back his plate and saw that she was no longer eating either, Kamal had to ask the question he dreaded. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “About this evening. Have you changed your mind? I can go if it’s making you uncomfortable to have me here.”

  “No!” Her voice rose an octave. “No, not at all. Please don’t go.”

  Kamal snapped into action then, deciding that the time for deliberation and introspection was over. He’d waited, he’d been patient, and he knew that she needed this. He knew that underneath the duty and the obligation and all the things that weren’t said was a vibrant, beautiful woman struggling to break free. She’d been hurt, left adrift in a world that was so different from what she’d planned, and for all these years she’d been struggling, alone, trying to navigate her way back to who she was. But he was here now, and he could help. Help show her that she wasn’t lost, just buried, clawing to break free and ready to take over.

  He reached her in one stride and pulled her from her seat.

  “Oh!” she gasped as he dragged her into his arms. But he captured that sound with his lips as he crushed them to hers, his need scalding them both. His arms banded around her waist, and he pulled her as close as possible without crawling into her skin.

  Her mouth opened to him in an instant, setting his blood to boil, and granting him access to the deep, rich sweetness that was Jessica Hampton. His stroked and caressed, and plundered her lips, her tongue, her silky soft skin. Raining kisses along her jaw and neck, he could hear her small gasps, and he moaned as he stretched his hands around her ass and lifted.

  She wrapped her long designer-denim-clad legs around his waist while continuing to kiss him. He walked to the doorway of the dining room, tearing his mouth from hers only long enough to ask, “Which way?”

  She pointed, and he kissed her again, stumbling across the enormous hall and through a pair of wide double doors. Inside, the room was dimly lit, an enormous bed taking up the far wall, with French doors to the right and an en suite bathroom to the left.

  He set her down, dragging his lips from hers to look at their surroundings. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a president’s bedroom,” he mused.

  “I should hope not,” she answered, grinning.

  “I’ve never kissed a president before either,” he muttered, running his lips along the slim column of her neck.

  “I…hope…not…” she gasped in response, writhing beneath his onslaught.

  He kept up his attack, sliding his hand under the casual blouse she wore, his rough hands stroking the satiny skin of her stomach until he reached expensive silk and French lace. And then his hands were cupped around her luscious breasts, and everything in him simply wept with want. Soft, full flesh filled his hands, and she moaned when he rolled her nipples between his fingers.

  He buried his face in her neck, biting then licking to soothe, as his hands squeezed and massaged until she was a writhing mess. Her hips pressed into his erection, and she gasped and purred against him from head to toe.

  He pulled away, looking down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted in arousal. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, stroking a hand over her lush hair. Then he reached down and ripped the tiny buttons on the front of her blouse free, exposing her hot skin to the cool air and spilling those amazing breasts into his hands again.

  “Oh!” she cried out. “I guess that blouse is history.”

  “I’ll buy you more,” he growled, walking her back until the backs of her knees hit the bed. But he didn’t push her down. Instead, he removed his jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, slowly, deliberately. “Take off the rest of it,” he commanded.

  She blinked at him, then let the torn blouse drop to the floor.

  He began working on the buttons on the front of his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. “All of it,” he commanded again, his voice raspy with need.

  As his shirt dropped to the floor, she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. As he toed off his shoes, she stepped out of hers and shimmied the jeans off. As he slowly slid his belt from the loops, she stood before him in nothing but a matching bra and panties set—white silk trimmed in black lace.

  Her cheeks were furiously pink now, and her hair was disheveled from his fingers tangling in it. She practically glowed in the low light of the room. He watched her, wondering if she knew what she needed right now. But it didn’t matter, because he did, and he would ensure that she got it all. He had no idea what this night might lead to, but he was determined that when he left her bed, the president of the United States would be free of some of her burdens.

  He carefully placed his belt on the bed, then let his pants slide to the floor along with his boxers. “Now, it’s time for you to do as you’re told, Madam President.”

  Jessica stood mostly unclothed, looking at the most amazing specimen of raw man she’d ever seen. He was tall and broad, his bronzed skin stretching like satin over a powerful chest and defined abs. His biceps were rounded, and bunched every time he moved his arms. Her eyes skated down farther, over a chest furred with dark hair, down to the soft trail that ended at a cock that would intimidate a porn star. It was long, thick, and shining at full mast, pointing due north and looking like it could take on an entire legion of women.

  God, who knew those custom-made suits hid all that? Jessica’s heart beat double time, and she had a moment of panic. The dark look on his face promised things that were dirty and dangerous, and she wasn’t sure whether she was actually up to the task or not.

  “Jessica.” He placed a fingertip under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Did you hear me? Take it all off.”

  She swallowed, then nodded her compliance, and with shaky hands, she removed her bra and panties, finally standing before him with no protection, no barriers.

  His gaze turned reverential as he stroked down her shoulder and arm with one finger only. “You are spectacularly beautiful.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the cap of her shoulder. “Meant to be worshipped.” His lips continued across her collarbone. “Meant to be pleasured,” he murmured against her ear.

  She moaned and tipped her head back, her breath coming in short puffs. His hand wrapped around the front of her throat, and he whispered, “Lie on the bed, hands on the headboard.”

  Jessica’s eyes popped open, and her heart gave a jolt, bringing her back to awareness. It was true that if she didn’t like something, all she had to do was give one good yell and there would be men with guns everywhere in seconds, but having the Secret Service rescue her while naked with a foreign ambassador wasn’t her idea of a good plan. But she’d never had someone boss her in the bedroom. She and John had been playful, best friends who also loved each other’s bodies. She wasn’t sure what to make of Kamal’s demands.

  He looked at her, watching, waiting to see what she would do. And she considered it, even as her heart raced, a strange combination of fear and excitement, if she were being honest.

  “Do you trust me?” he finally asked.

  She thought about it. “I don’t know that I fully trust anyone. It’s not part of my world.” She shook her head once at the realization. “But you’ve never given me any reason not to trust you. You even saved my life. I guess if there’s anyone I should trust, it would be you. But it’s…difficult.”

  He skated his hands up her sides, resting them at her waist, right above the flare of her hips. They were warm and comforting, and her anxiety receded a bit.

  “You run an entire nation, Jessica,” he told her. “You’re charged with making all the decisions for the rest of us. You bear the weight of the world on your shoulders.” He grinned at her. “And such beautiful shoulders they are.”

  She couldn’t help the smile that answered him. He made her feel young again—girlish. He was charming and flirtatious, and it was hard to resist.

  “Let me take over now,” he murmured, hi
s hands traveling up from her waist to the undercurve of her breasts, where his thumbs stroked softly. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

  He kissed her on the mouth then, his tongue stroking moans and gasps out of her until all she could do was feel—the ache in her core, the tingling in her breasts, the sheer need and want that she’d been carrying for this man for weeks.

  “On the bed. Hands on the headboard,” he whispered again, and Jessica complied, lying on her back and reaching her arms over her head.

  He crawled up her body, kissing and licking the entire way, touching patches of skin that hadn’t felt any human touch other than her own in years. It was nearly more than she could stand, and by the time he reached her head, she was trembling with so many emotions and sensations, she couldn’t even open her eyes. She felt him wrap her fingers around the slats in the big oak headboard, and then she realized that the smooth, cool band around her wrists was his belt. He pulled it tight but not painfully so, and she was trapped. Beneath a powerful man who could crush her with one hand.

  “Can you look at me?” he asked softly.

  She opened her eyes, and what she saw there wasn’t frightening. His face was awash with desire, need, and, oddly, tenderness. His five-o’clock shadow gave him a just-rolled-out-of-bed look, and the lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes was soft and shiny. She ached to reach out and touch it.

  “I will never hurt you, Jessica,” he said. “I will never do anything you don’t want me to. Trust me, and I will take away your burdens. Trust me, and I will worship you the way you deserve. Trust me, and I will give you everything you desire.”

  All she could do was nod, because no matter how scary, she knew that she needed this more than she’d ever needed anything in her life.

  He lowered his head and wrapped his full lips around one plump nipple, sucking it into his mouth as his tongue circled it. His hands kneaded and stroked her, skating up her sides, finding her breasts, moving restlessly as if they couldn’t choose the perfect place to settle. And Jessica arched her back, groaning in ecstasy, pushing her breast farther into his mouth as he made a growling sound in the back of his throat, sending tingles straight to her aching center.