by Alex Elliott
I stop and the agent is at my side. “What did you say?” I ask him.
“The restroom is free. Down there.” He looks as distraught as I feel. The other agent walks by, escorting an elderly man, and both this agent and I step aside.
“Okay.” And I quickly add, “I can see myself down the hall.”
He lifts his sunglasses and appears much younger and less cocky without them. “If I got out-of-line. Foot. Insert into my mouth. I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t. Just forget it. Seriously.” I nod and he looks relieved.
“No one will bother you. Down there.” He jerks his chin, indicating the end of the hall.
“Thanks.” I don’t wait to see where he goes, but I’m grateful he’s left me alone as I retreat down the hall, and enter the bathroom.
Shutting the door, I lean against it and tip back my head until it lands with a muted thud. I’m stunned that I’m back to ground zero where Bennett is concerned and now, without having to feign that everything is fucking fine, a sharp twinge twists in my chest. I can barely draw a breath. A stinging cloud assaults my eyes. No! I’m not going to break down and cry. Glancing around, the urge to scream and throw something is so tempting! How could I be so gullible? Bennett’s warning, ‘Welcome to the big leagues’ hits me full force.
I’d told him, I wanted to affect change. Well crap! Is now a good time?
* * *
VIRGINIA’S ASSISTANT exits the room and she turns to me with her Veep saccharine smile in place. I watch as she sits on the sofa in lieu of returning to her desk.
“Senator, would you like something to drink?” Ryan picks up a decanter and pours what looks to be vodka into a tumbler, then lifts her expectant gaze to me.
“Jesus, Virginia.” Waving her off, I don’t sit but pace in back of the chairs where Xavia and I just occupied. I’ve got to find X and deal with this moronic political sidewinding on the Veep’s part. “You really overstepped on this one.”
“Don’t get upset. You know as well as I do that Ms. Kennedy is an asset as is her family. They’ve got Harvard in their back pocket.” She starts in again, dragging out my battered and bruised college history. “They’ve got the means to bury that god-awful altercation, marring your history. Grace Stillman is onboard and more than willing to make sure Harvard buries the record.”
“The report is sealed,” I say, channeling my fingers through my hair.
“That slight hiccup isn’t buried in Harvard’s campus police records. Regardless of what they said, it’s there. I requested a copy and within fifteen minutes, one was emailed. I assure you, it’s very, very available.” Ryan lifts her glass and swallows her complete drink. She sets her glass down, and pushes back onto the sofa, using this abbreviated moment to let her message take root.
“You’re digging for dirt on me?” I’d taken pains to have my record wiped clean but given Dean Nolan has a hard-on for my democratic opposition—the same senator the Stillmans back. I can only question what the fuck is going on to get Xavia’s grandparents to flip-flop and cross party lines. “What have you done to get the Stillmans to jump their democratic and well-oiled political ship?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Specifically?” I stare at her while she taps her fingers along the armrest of the sofa, refusing to break eye contact.
“I’m doing what needs to be done to get past these slight hiccups in our histories. With regards to you, it’s not earth-shattering, but it’s news worthy...a staffer girlfriend who comes with cross party affiliations. It’s not illegal or immoral, and very much what the press and the public are hungry to hear. Everyone wants to know the scoop on you, Senator.”
“The scoop? Don’t you mean, one you’ve vetted when I specifically told you about my intern’s recent history?”
“Pretty spectacular for a short timeframe. Voters want to know more about you...besides that you’re a hard-ass and run a tight ship. They eat up the personal—magazine covers and articles. Wouldn’t you say?”
Ryan wants me to whore myself to the press and two words—fuck off—ride the tip of my tongue. I can’t appear overly emotional, or she’ll latch onto what’s below the surface and use X and my involvement to her benefit. Political maneuvering and backstabbing are nothing new, but what the Veep’s done clearly is for one person’s advantage. I’ve got my back to the wall. “You’ve spun this for your benefit. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
“Mine is yours. And vice versa. That’s how we play this game, Bennett. You’re aware this is the big leagues.”
I stop pacing and can’t contain the edge to my voice. “Thanks for the tip, but I’m not selling my soul.”
“I’m not asking that. Only what our backers want, which I’m certain isn’t damage control. We’re working to dispel all possible issues and now, with Ms. Kennedy as a cornerstone in your foundation, we’re heading in the right direction.”
Direction...fuck! Does she mean the road to hell? “Oh really. It sounds like we’re selling ourselves preemptively.”
She leans forward, her brow creased. “I understand from your vantage point. You’re not accustomed to having to bend. You’ve ridden a ticket that caught fire with how the press loves to tag onto what’s trending. No one has seriously taken any potshots at you or your Georgia Senate campaign. Key term: yet. All I’m asking is that you use the gift we’ve stumbled upon. Can’t you casually date this young woman?”
Glaring at her, I reply, “I don’t casually date. Anyone.”
“Ben, I know! And that’s the damn issue I’m battling with voter polling and financiers.”
I’m so close to telling her to forget her plan. This is total bullshit. “Are you afraid someone might think I’m gay?”
Her eyes widen. “If that were true, we’d use it. Hell, it might not be a bad thing, but everyone on the Hill knows you’re not. It’s a question and without an answer, it’ll become a situation. You as well as I realize that’s fodder for the foray of conjecture. For a man featured in Cosmo, you’ve got too many mysteries.”
The sides of my temples throb. I close my eyes for a second as the muscles up and down my neck cinch into knots. When I gaze at her, I take hold of the back of the chair and grind out, “That... was a mistake.”
“It’s not history though. It’s a mistake that could cost us if some dumbbell decides she’s the ‘jilted’ girlfriend with a story that’ll sell. Won’t matter if it’s outright lies.”
“I’m fully equipped to deal with that type of press,” I say between gritted teeth.
Ryan crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe so. You’re too popular and an easy target. You’ve got to understand. This might not go south by someone who wants the publicity. It could get worse, a set-up from our opposition.”
“The Democrats aren’t gonna pull that kind of punch.” I shake my head.
“Don’t be naïve to think it hasn’t been done.” Virginia rises from the sofa. “Let me be blunt. The fact that no one knows whose bed you share, well it’s a little unnerving. Give the press a bone. And with someone like Ms. Kennedy, you can’t go wrong. Nothing serious. There’s the State Dinner coming up. Perfect photo op moment. Dinner. Dancing. You couldn’t find a better partner. Her grandparents will be there and they’re eager to meet you.”
“You invited Ms. Kennedy’s grandparents after I explained in confidence that was an issue? If anyone is ambushing, it’s you right now. You’re dead wrong if you believe damage control is unnecessary. That’s what I’m about to jump neck deep into thanks to you.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Ms. Kennedy’s tiff with her family. Those types...Jesus, Bennett. Blood is always thicker than water. In the end, Xavia’s act of rebellion will be feedstuff for her family stories of ‘Remember When.’ They’ve been here, working D.C. for a century and the Stillmans and Kennedys will be here for the next five centuries. That’s how this works. We need them, but they don’t need us. In their books, we’re expendable. If th
ey’re offering up support, smart people take what they can get and understand, there’s an expiration date.”
“That message is tainted. Are you listening to yourself?”
She laughs. “It’s not. I’m excited! Do you realize what a coo this will be if we garner their support?”
“Maybe more than you realize. And since I’m playing the charming escort...excuse me, Madam Vice President.” I walk toward the door before I say something that will cost me. I’ve got more intel on the Veep than she realizes, but now isn’t the time to show my hand. What does she have? One jackass arrest report—I feared she’d have something darker. Something related to X and myself.
“What are you going to do?” She crosses the room, stopping a few feet from me.
“I’d better go see to Ms. Kennedy, now that you’ve dropped this bomb.” I grasp the doorknob, holding it so fucking tight the muscles in my arm start to shake. My thoughts churn. Most are directed to X and what’s running through her mind. But I can’t leave—not yet. I let go and squarely face Virginia Ryan. “Let me set the record straight. If you ever do something underhanded like this again, I’ll back out of this race so fast, you’ll wonder if you imagined me on your ticket. Don’t you ever repeat this line of bullshit defense and attempt at blindsiding me. You’re not the only one with political factions, capable of forays. I might not tap mine. But you of all people should realize, it doesn’t mean they’re non-existent.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” she replies. “I’ll call Ms. Kennedy and smooth whatever is frayed. I promise, she’ll be fine. Give me a day and you’ll see.”
Whether it’s true or not, she appears contrite or frightened. I can’t tell which. I stare at her, battling the urge to tell her to go straight to hell.
“You’ve got one day, to undo this mess.” I yank open the door and meet two Secret Service agents who nod to me. I walk by silently seething with only one mission. To find Xavia and try to explain this clusterfuck.
I descend the stairs and enter the main meeting room that adjoins the hallways, and then I see her. Talking with an agent. He lifts his glasses, staring down at her, and I tell myself that I’d better not lose it. I can’t go ballistic each time she talks with some random guy. Shaking her head, her features are drawn. There’s nothing flirtatious in her stance—not hers. Can’t say the same for the agent.
She doesn’t see me cloistered here as I watch her walk away from the agent and down a hall. Where’s she going and why isn’t she outside? More silent stalking, but I don’t care. I gauge my next move and what I’m going to say when I catch up to her.
A woman at the garden entrance demands to know when the Veep is coming outside. She speaks loudly in a slurred voice, and I cross the living room, following X. This side of the house it’s quiet, and I glance over my shoulder as I traipse down the hallway to assure myself I’m not being followed—not that I’ve got idea number one what I’ll do when I get to her. At the doorway where she entered, I stop. My pulse is pounding and I need to sort out what I can say that doesn’t sound like more political manipulation BS.
Should I knock? Only if I want her to tell me to go take a hike.
I turn the knob and open the door. She’s leaning with her palms planted against the counter. “Hi,” I say when I enter.
She looks over at me, then shifts her gaze down as she straightens. Her cheeks are flushed when she picks up her cell, shaking her head. “Don’t talk to me.”
“You have every right to be upset.” I’m going for honesty. “This is total bullshit.”
Her head snaps up. “Are you pandering to me? Fuck, Bennett.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” I want to shake her, and even though my common sense blares a warning to go slow—that’s not something we do best. Heated discussions have a tendency for us to end up half-naked and screaming or fucking—or both.
“Well, let’s see. I come clean about how screwed up my family is. What bloodsucking leeches they are, and you share that with the vice president...who goes running like she’s on fire to my grandparents. It was bad enough to have to tell my idiot cousin off and my grandparents to step back before leaving Boston. But now, they’re going to use that against me. I don’t need you fucking with my head in the name of politics. I can’t do this. I won’t—”
Her chin is quivering and she shakes her head as the first tears begin to fall. My heartbeat hammers, and I don’t give a flying fuck about anyone outside this bathroom.
I pull her to me and crush my mouth down on hers, backing her up to the vanity. Lifting her dress, I separate her legs, and delve my hand between her thighs. We don’t do words effectively, but we do... do sex seamlessly.
“Baby,” I whisper.
“Don’t...” She moans and just as fast, she bites down on my lip, raising up her leg and giving me access to her heat.
“X, let me.” I swipe my fingers down her slick skin and toggle her clit. Rub and pinch, flick and then plunge my finger into her as I wrap my arm around her waist, not letting her go. “You’re mine. Say it!”
“No!” she whispers angrily.
I go slow. At first. But she’s stubborn and I pump faster, harder until her eyelids flutter. Fuck. She needs to stop reeling and there’s only one way to get her to own what we’ve got. I lower my zipper, open my fly, and free my cock.
“Yes. You’re mine. Your pussy is wet and your body is keyed up for me. Stop fighting me. You want me. Buried inside you. Say it.”
My dick is pure rebar and throbbing. I stroke myself and watch her incredible eyes lower to my hand moving up and down my rod. She sucks her lip between her teeth and I pump my hand with greater force. I’m so close to coming and she’d better decide soon. “This cock could be inside you right now. Fucking you. Giving you want you want. Just say the word, little sub.”
“Please,” she moans.
I slide my finger through the drop of pre cum on my crown and paint her lips. “Please what?”
“Fuck me. Hard.”
My hunger for her re-ignites. Lifting her thigh, I align my crown with her entrance and pound forward, burying my dick deep inside her. For a beat, I hold still, fighting the feeling of jetting this soon. With the plug in place, she’s tighter than normal. Slowly I withdraw and thrust forward into her, pumping my length into her silky softness, gaining speed as I fuck her.
There’s a knocking sound, and she digs her nails into my skin. “Ben, the door,” she whispers sharply against my lips.
I listen but shit, I can’t stop fucking her. My heart hammers in my ears, echoing the darts of intense pleasure rocketing through me. We’re jostling the door as it knocks with each slam of my cock. Her pussy feels perfect, squeezing me tight.
“Curl your legs around my waist.” I move us to the wall away from the door. As far away as I can get for what we’re doing. I’m pounding her pussy like a savage. I’m fucking her furiously until she’s spent her anger. I hold onto her thighs and bite down on her shoulder, sucking a point then a path to her neck. She’s clenching around my shaft and I can’t hold back. I plunge my cock into her as deep as possible, taking us over the edge as she cries out. I cover her mouth with my mine, capturing her sounds of pleasure and release, impaling her until I’m there. Coming with her to the brink.
“You’re a beast,” she whispers hoarsely, her arms snaked around my neck.
“At least you didn’t run away...this time. We’re making headway.” Setting her legs down, I kiss her lips, relishing her sweetness.
“But we’re not done. We’re so not done!”
“Oh no?” I cage her between my arms, my heart pounding a message to tell her what she means to me.
She leans forward, whispering into my ear. “I’m referring to our need to talk.”
“So I’m not the only one who says that. Now am I?” I turn my face, and we’re less than an inch away from each other as I drown in her crystal blue eyes.
“This is so messed up. My grandparents are
to be told nothing about me. Do you not see how dangerous this is? They’ll find out. About all of this. About the House. They delight in this type of challenge.”
“A gauntlet you initially tossed down.” I can’t let her see this is a form of unbridled manipulation on my part, and I lower my hands, cupping her face. “I promise, you won’t be indebted to them. And neither will I.”
“Is this more political BS? I’ll take responsibility for pushing the envelope. But they’re my family—my decision in how I handle getting them off my back.”
“You’re right.” I stare into her eyes. “There’s no argument that you call the shots with your family. Same as me with my fucked up situation.”
She closes her eyes. “I don’t need to be appeased.”
I shake her, until she opens her incredible eyes. “I’m not. I can’t come out and tell the Veep to kiss off if we’d like to remain under the radar. We need to be smart in how to play this. What can I do to help you?”
Xavia shrugs. “I don’t know. That depends on my grandparents. Maybe even Patrick. We’ll have to see how they respond—what they do.”
“We’re playing political chess,” I remind her, dropping my hands to her shoulders, and kissing the side of her head.
“Fortunately, I’ve got years of experience.” She melds against me, holding on to my arms as her thumbs rub tiny circles along my skin. “With my family, playing games is how we relate to each other.”
“Powerful families have agendas. Not just yours.” Wrapping her within my arms, I don’t want to let her go. Not with the solemn tone her voice has taken on. My mind is spinning as I contemplate the players and what needs to be done. For her, I’ll get into this messed up soul selling game—hell, I’m going to be one pissed-off motherfucker when it comes to protecting this woman. “Christ, I guess I always knew this day would get here.”
Chapter 8
HURTS SO GOOD
SUNDAY EVENING and I’m sitting in my car, clenching my jaw. I should just get a goddamn ring pierced through my nose and be done with this shit. Why the annoyance? It’s about me in another bout of stalking outside Xavia’s apartment.
