Page 142 of Catfish

And my body won’t rest until I have her.

Her lips break hesitantly from mine, but she doesn't erase the distance—I do this time. I'm on her, clutching on to her mouth like my whole life depends on it.

Maybe it does.

Perhaps she was someone I was supposed to wait for but didn’t. That could’ve changed my whole world and made me happy.

Because, current day, I’m miserable.

Each day passes, and nothing changes but the months and days, nearing the moment where I possibly become the next Democratic candidate for president.

Her teeth softly bite into my lower lip, possibly warning or teasing. Regardless, I’m not in control. I lost it the moment she messaged Chase back to talk. The minute she became something with her off-the-wall profile description and liked everything I didn’t. When she took away every awful memory from my head, if only for a few minutes.

She coaxes at my tongue again, and I freely give it to her, my hands still at my sides because if I touch her, it won't end there. I'm in the middle of my office with my employees, with Emmy God fucking knows where.

I pull back, watching the first glimpse of her eyes cracking open. They glint in fervor and want, something I can relate to wholeheartedly.

“I’ll follow up with you tomorrow,” she mutters, flicking her eyes up to me. “Thank you, Governor.”

She’s halfway out the door by the time I come down from an alternate universe. That she had the strength to walk away showed how unaffected she was.

Me, I’m the opposite.

I have a hard-on and a craving so powerful for a woman who just gave me a taste of what it’d be like if the timeline of my life was written differently.

This can’t happen.

She’s not mine.

I can’t own her.

But she might already own a small piece of me.

? Wonder Woman — Trey Songz ?

A frosted mug of beer is waiting for me at the country club that Chase likes to hang out at. It's away from the general public, no paparazzi are allowed in the establishment, and the drinks are actually fucking good. Top-of-the-line liquor, food prepared by the best chefs, and the wait staff are low-key and composed.

“Started drinking without you, sorry man,” Chase alludes as soon as I take a seat across from him.

He doesn't waste any time taking another sip, which turns into a giant gulp as I unbutton my suit jacket and hang it over the chair.

“Rough case?” I ask.

"Extremely. There's a soon-to-be wife, mistress, girlfriend, and a maid, all of them trying to get money out of my client.”

I pull out the chair and sit. “Guilty?”

“All day,” he conveys. “Dude should’ve had the mistress, girlfriend, and maid sign an NDA. Instead, his dick did all the talking.”

“What are they suing him for?”

“Slaying their reputations when the wife publicly announced that he was having an affair.”

“Shouldn’t they be suing the wife?”

Chase rolls his eyes. “Women scorned and all that.”

I bring my mug to my lips. “Sounds like a blast.”

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