Page 184 of Catfish

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you in these fuck-me dresses, and the way your breathing hitches and falls into soft moans. You started all of this, you know?” I nod, fully aware I initiated all of this by kissing him and telling him to not sell himself short.

He’s not.

He’s definitely not selling or bartering any of his skill set off right now.

A low groan permeates from his chest as I hear him work me into a state of senselessness. He’s turned on, I’m exhausted with an adrenaline rush as I rest my forehead on his shoulder.

My hand reaches to help relieve some of the tension he's building between us, but his grip clutches my wrist.

"You can torture me later," he promises. "Right now, I want you, but I can't have you the way I need to, so let me do this. It's a pretty close second, Shelton.” A deep hum leaves his chest. “You don't know what the sounds you make do to me. I want to completely own the fuck out of you." He nuzzles his nose along the pillar of my throat. "You good with that?"

“Only if you promise I can return the favor later,” I whisper, squeezing his arms. “And no—” He bites down on my neck and chases it with a caress of his lips. “Geezus. Stop distracting me.”

“Says the woman who’s been flustering me with her wardrobe choices for weeks.”

“I’ve been wearing them on the allotted days per our contract,” I counter.

“Because you had to wear them.”

“I’m not...trying to do anything to make...oh God…” A growl of approval accompanies my deficiency of being able to complete a sentence as he begins to work my clit harder and faster with his thumb while he adds a third finger.

"You going to come for me, beautiful? All over my hand, so I can lick you off just so I can get some sort of relief?"

“Wade,” I beg—because that’s where I’m at now, folks.

“Mhm?” His kisses become more frantic, full of tongue and lips all over my neck and throat, where he licks a trail up to my chin. His eyes slam into me, jaded in hunger as his mouth collides with mine.

My body is reverberating off a high that only Wade can fulfill for me. I’m so beyond lost, careening towards that state of release, feeling the buildup wanting to break itself free.

And when his tongue tangles with mine again, I break apart against him. He swallows and savors each one of my moans into his mouth like he said he would. Owned me like he promised.

And holy fuck, your girl is so screwed.

? Wild World — Cat Stevens ?

Even states away, I can't stop thinking about Reagan but refrain from texting or calling her.

It's not going to work like that; it can't, not when I just finished yet another Democratic debate, and I still have to stay focused and collected.

Em dragged me to a local bakery for breakfast so we could “accidentally” get caught by the public. We did, filling the place up with people who had questions about my views, telling me they were excited to watch me on TV and that I had amazing eyes—that from a flock of women who eye-fucked me the whole time they were there.

I didn’t mind it.

In fact, I prefer being around ordinary people over the throngs of politicians and my "own kind" because it's what I've always craved—an average day, no rules, and some sort of normalcy.

Minus the cameras.

But right now, I'm standing at an after-party with important people. Senators, mayors, congressmen, the attorney general of Illinois, and whoever else has a hand in making shit happen with their influence and money. It just sinks me back into my reality.

The real one.

Where there is no such thing as Reagan and myself. When I can’t sneak away from the throngs of this party to fuck her in a dark closet or corner while using my senses to make everything that much more enticing.

It’ll never be like that until I’m president. After that, all my plans will finally become real.

“Congressman Lockwood,” exclaims Jim Westgate, the congressman from Minnesota that I was in the middle of speaking to. “It’s great to see you.”

My brows furrow at him until the name sinks in before the recoil of my body starts to develop.

---