by Chloe Lane
“Oh, oh, oh…” The moans come one on top of the other now. “Oh, Senator, I—”
“Tell me.” I order her to do it, even though she’s already on her way there.
“You’re fucking my asshole.” The words sound so dirty coming from her mouth that they make my cock twitch inside her, drawing out another moan.
“Yes, I am,” I say, gritting my teeth to stop myself from coming at that very moment. “You’re so tight.”
She bucks against my fingertips again. “I—I like it,” Marci gasps, and I press down a little harder on her clit, sending her into the stratosphere.
She comes so hard that it sets me off, her muscles pulsing around my length, and this time I do have to cover her mouth because her cries are so loud that the neighbors might think we’re having a legitimate emergency. We are so far from that. So far.
When we’re disengaged from each other a few moments later, Marci turns around, throwing her arms around my neck, and I relish the weight of her, the curves of her body, as she pants against me, catching her breath.
“Senator?”
“Yes, Kitten?”
“I might need a little help with the soap…my hands are trembling.”
I look down at her, my forehead creasing with worry. “Are you all right?”
“I’m more than all right,” she says, going up on tiptoes to kiss me underneath the water. “I’m perfect.”
The perfection doesn’t last. We order takeout from an Indian restaurant that delivers with lightning speed, and Marci seems to love every bite of it—but when I flip on the TV, landing on a random news channel, her mood darkens. She’s wearing a pair of my sweatpants and a tank top that shows off her perky breasts to absolute perfection, but her frown deepens as the news anchor outlines some political gossip that’s been running like wildfire through DC.
I pull her in close, and she rests her head on my shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh.
“You don’t have to worry.” I feel like I’ve been saying this, and only this, for days, but not all the tension leaves Marci’s body.
“I know,” she answers in a soft voice. “I just want…”
“Anything. You can have anything you want.”
She cuddles up against me. “I just want to stay here, with you, like this, forever.”
“Eventually, I’ll have to get up and pee.”
Her laughter is musical, and at last she relaxes again.
As we settle into a sitcom she finds on another channel, I feel the resolve growing in my chest.
It’s time to make a move, and I know exactly what it’s going to be.
First step: get through this lunch meeting with Senator Delmont. Marci’s gone back to her place to work out and do laundry—even though I offered to send it out—and all I want is for the waiter to bring the check. Senator Delmont and I agree on the issues, which is what makes his insistence on “hashing this out” so irritating. And the fact that he has a voice like a weasel, if a weasel had a voice.
After approximately eleven eternities, we finish up the last of the small talk while we retrieve our coats from the coat check, and I hustle out to the car that’s waiting.
“Pampillonia,” I tell the driver as soon as I’m sliding across the seat. “On Wisconsin Ave.”
I see his forehead crinkling in the rearview mirror. “What am I looking for?”
The smile spreads across my face. I’m happy as hell to be out of that lunch meeting, and even happier to go about my afternoon plans. “A jeweler’s. You’ll know it when you see it.”
He steers the car away from the curb. “Picking out something special for your lady?”
I open my mouth to make the excuse I’ve been prepared to make for weeks—that Marci isn’t my lady, that I don’t have a lady in my life, that I’m single and dedicated to the American people, as always, but instead, the truth comes out.
“Yes,” I say, and it feels good to tell the truth, even if it’s just to the driver of a rented car. “And I’m hoping to find the perfect thing.”
“She’s lucky, then,” the driver says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “A guy like you with a fancy ring?” He laughs a little. “Sorry. I’m assuming it’s going to be a ring, but you never know. Maybe you’re a necklace kind of guy.”
“We’ll just have to see,” I say, looking out the window at the traffic surging around us. “I’d buy it all for her, if she’d have it.”
Chapter 29
Marci
On Monday morning, the weather finally breaks, and temperatures rise into something my winter body finds intoxicatingly warm—even though it can’t be more than fifty degrees. The sun in the sky brightens my mood, and my chest is filled with the warm sensation that everything is going to turn out in the end.
That is—until I see the gaggle of reporters in front of the Hart Building. There aren’t many of them, but enough, and their attention seems to be focused on someone in front of them.
I’m only ten steps away when one of the taller men shifts his weight to the side, and I see her—Kathy, standing right in front of the crowd.
What the hell is she doing?
My stomach turns over, and she catches my eye and gives me the most evil grin I’ve seen on another human. In that instant, I know it for sure—she wants my job, and she’s willing to do anything to get it. I think of all the times she’s dropped things off in the Senator’s office with a too-big smile, of all the times when I’ve brushed her off for lunch, of all the times when she’s hinted that she’s jealous, that she wants to be close to him—all of it. It clicks into place like a bank vault closing on all my hopes for the future.
I stop in place, frozen on the spot. They haven’t started yet. Maybe there’s something I can do. Maybe there’s something I can say.
Or maybe I should turn around and leave, get as far from this place as I can. My heart thunders in my ears, drowning out the chatter from the reporter.
“Hey, lady,” one of them calls to Kathy. “When are we starting this thing?”
“I think now might be the perfect time to get the ball rolling.” Kathy’s voice rises above the chatter and sends a chill down my spine. She’s looking right at me, and I’m helpless. I’m absolutely helpless, and I feel like a fool. What was the Senator going to do to prevent this? There’s nothing he could have done, unless he knew about it in advance. My heart sinks from the pit of my gut down to my toes. Maybe he did know about this, and he’s decided to play some political chess and save himself. But he’s nowhere to be seen.
“I have something I want to share with the American people, specifically the citizens of Connecticut…”
I know where she’s going with this and I can’t stop it. I can’t even open my mouth to scream, which would at least create a distraction for a second, maybe ten seconds, and in that intervening time—
It doesn’t matter, because it’s like I’m in a bad dream. I can’t do anything. I can’t even watch it happening, dropping my eyes to the concrete sidewalk and bracing, bracing myself for the explosion that’s about to come next—
“Thank you so much, Kathy.”
The Senator’s voice makes me whip my head up. Am I hallucinating that he’s here to save the day? No, I’m not. He’s striding up behind Kathy, clapping his hand down on her shoulder like they’re longtime best friends, and giving her a wide smile that makes the corners of her mouth turn down into a hideous frown. “Sorry, folks,” he says to the press. “I just couldn’t wait through the introduction.” The crowd gives a little laugh. They love him. They can’t get enough of him. He sells papers and rakes in website views.
Reluctantly, Kathy steps aside, letting the Senator take what floor there is out here on the sidewalk in front of a collection of reporters.
“First, let me thank Kathy for gathering you here on this fine day. There is an important piece of news that it’s time to share with you.”
Every one of the reporters is gazing at him with rapt attention.
/>
“Marci?” He acts like he’s searching me out, but I think he already knew exactly where I was. “Can you come up here with me, please?”
It’s an effort, but I get myself moving just before the pause becomes awkward, coming around the assembled press and straight to his side. Cameras click, and I straighten my back, forcing a serene smile onto my face. That’s all I have to do right now. The Senator is taking care of this. He won’t ask me to do a thing. I repeat the thoughts in my head until my heart comes down from a dangerous peak.
Then I realize what he’s actually doing.
“Marci has been with me ever since the early days of the campaign, and she’s been an unbelievable person to have by my side through all of this.” He looks at me, smile fading to something burning and serious. “She’s smart, capable, and frankly the best scheduler a senator could ever hope for.” He lets his next pause linger. Nobody in the crowd breathes. “It should come as no surprise that, with the kind of woman she is, I’ve fallen in love with her.”
There’s a collective gasp from the reporters, and then the questions start coming, one after the other, shouted loud in the sunshine. The Senator holds up both hands, calling for silence. “I want the world to know how much I care for her,” he says, letting the words carry all the way to the White House. So before I answer any of your questions, there’s something I have to do.”
He turns toward me then, and my heart leaps into my throat.
There, in front of everyone, the Senator drops down on one knee, drawing a small velvet box from his pocket. “Marcella Davenport,” he begins, and my eyes are immediately shining with tears. “You light up every one of my days, and I never want to go back into darkness without you.” He opens the box, revealing a stunning princess-cut diamond surrounded by sapphires. “Will you be my wife?”
“Yes!” I cry out, loud and proud, tears streaming down my face.
The questions are forgotten in the applause that bursts forth from the little group, and the Senator stands, slips the ring onto my finger, and kisses me, right there, for all the world to see.
Chapter 30
Senator Sterling
Marci’s face is pink, flushed, and she can’t stop looking at the ring on her finger. Judging by how radiant she is, I made exactly the right choice.
She sits across from me, the desk between us, both of us insisting on propriety—at least for the moment.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she says, for the thousandth time since I dismissed the little press conference that Kathy called to try to undo us. She resigned immediately after, saving me the trouble of firing her, and she’s packing up her things into a box as we speak.
“Marci,” I say, my voice low and urgent. Her eyes are still shining with tears when she looks up at me. “I love you. I didn’t do it as some kind of stunt. I want you by my side, always.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Did you hear those questions afterward? The story is going to be a romantic one, with just a hint of scandal, just how the outlets like it. But the focus will be on our love story.”
She grins wickedly at me. “We’d better think of some more…constituent-friendly tales, then.”
“I agree.”
Marci sighs happily, but then her expression turns serious. “What will I do now?”
I give her a rueful grin. “I think we both know that working as my scheduler might raise one too many eyebrows. I’ve got to protect my reputation.”
“I know…”
“But I have something else in mind.”
Her face brightens. “What is it?”
“You’re too good to stay at home—unless that’s what you want to do.”
Marci shakes her head with fervor. “No way. Not—not right away, anyway.” She takes in a big breath like she’s smelling the air for something sweet and hopeful. “I love being in the center of all this.”
“That’s why I think you should work with Senator Delmont.”
Her frown consumes her whole face. “Senator Delmont? But he’s—”
“I know,” I interrupt. If we got serious about listing all of his flaws, we’d never leave this office again. “But he has a seat on the Appropriations Committee, and he’s looking for a staff assistant who can handle high pressure, and he’s got his eye on you.”
“Me?” She points to her chest, her lips parting just slightly.
“You.” The lunch went well, and when I called him to explain what I was about to do, he’d laughed heartily and told me he had a place for Marci whenever she was ready to make the leap.
“Oh, my God!” Her cry is pure delight, and she leaps up from her seat, rushes around to my side of the desk, and throws her arms around my neck. “I love you,” she sighs against my neck, then presses her lips hard against mine.
“I love you.”
“I know. I never doubted it.”
I laugh at that. “What reason would you have to doubt me?”
“None!” She laughs again, eyes glowing with happiness. “None, not now, not ever!”
“Glad to hear it, Kitten. But—”
That frown, again. “But what?”
“Listen, we’re going to be married as soon as humanly possible. But until then, we probably shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t what?”
“Shouldn’t get up to any more…fun in my actual office. It’s just not the kind of thing the American people would approve of.”
“Fun? I’m not doing anything—” Then she looks down at my pants, which are being tented up from my cock. Marci giggles, heat coming to her cheeks. “All I did was kiss you.”
“It takes a lot less than that, and you know it,” I tease, but it’s true—all she has to do is walk into a room, and I’m ready to go.
Marci sighs, kisses my cheek, and removes her arms from around my neck, smoothing out her skirt. “All right.” She straightens her back. “What about—a replacement?”
“There’s a stack of resumes on your desk.”
“My desk? But don’t you want to—”
“I want you to choose the best person for the job. Take the week. Do it well, and show them the ropes. Next Monday you start with Senator Delmont.”
She gives me a grin, turns happily on one heel, and heads for the door of my office. “Oh!” Halfway there, she seems to remember something. “Is there anything you need, Senator?”
I stand up, crossing to her. I know what I just said, but I need my hands on her one more time before we part ways for the day. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her in close, kissing the top of her head. “I could use a coffee,” I say, and I feel her smile against my chest.
“Coming right up.”
“But more than that, I need you as my wife.”
Her eyes sparkle when she pulls away. “Then let’s go dress shopping.”
I shake my head. “Not a chance, Kitten. You call your mother and have her on the first flight out to DC.”
Marci claps both hands over her mouth. “Oh, my God, I haven’t called my mother!”
“Get going!” I say, pushing her toward the door. “The news will be breaking any minute.”
“It’ll be the best news of the week.”
“Of the year.”
“Who knows? Maybe the century,” Marci says, then hurries out to the office. There’s a click of buttons as she dials the phone on her desk. I’ll give her a little privacy.
I settle in behind my desk, willing the hours to pass as quickly as possible so we can go back to my apartment and really celebrate.
A moment later, Marci’s voice floats in through the door. “Mom? It’s me. Am I interrupting?” There’s a little pause. “Well, I just wanted to tell you—” She laughs out loud, the sound pure and joyful and wonderful. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ve met someone wonderful, and we’re getting engaged. Can you come out to DC this weekend?” She sighs a happy little sigh. “He’s the love of my life, Mom. The love of my life.”
&nb
sp; Chapter 31
Marci
The tech presses the ultrasound wand gently into my belly, and I take a deep breath, trying not to disturb her work. On the screen next to me, the black-and-white images make strange shapes, then resolve into—
“A baby!” I cry, squeezing the Senator’s hand. “Our baby, Senator!”
“David,” he corrects me, squeezing my hand back in three bursts—I love you. I laugh out loud. I still sometimes slip into the habit of calling him Senator, even though it’s been five months since the wedding. Right on time, if you ask me—I was a little worried I’d gotten pregnant before we walked down the aisle, but the due date on this precious babe coincides almost perfectly with our wedding night. No scandals for this Senator.
“What a nice, round head,” the tech says, and then she focuses her attention on the screen. “I’m just going to take some measurements, and then we’ll find out if you’re having a little boy or a little girl.”
I can hardly steady my heart. I’ve been dreaming of babies lately, but I just don’t know what we’re having. I don’t have a sense of it yet, but I’m desperate to start shopping for tiny clothes and decorating the nursery.
The tech takes us through her measurements, commenting on how perfect this child is, and then she angles the wand in a different way, searching for the goods.
I hold my breath.
“Are you ready to find out? If you’ve changed your mind, I can always write down the sex and put it in an envelope for you to open later.”
I glance across at David, who gives me a nod. “We haven’t changed our minds. Are you—do you know?”
The tech moves the wand another couple of inches, then stops. “Right there,” she says. I’m hardly certain of what I’m looking at, but then she says the words I’ve been waiting to hear for twenty weeks. “You’re having a little girl.”
“Oh!” My eyes well with tears. It’s not that I wouldn’t love a boy—I would—but my mind floods with small dresses and hair bows, and I’m overwhelmed. The tech hands me a tissue.
