Page 150 of Bona Fide

He laughs underneath my palm.

“Shut up,” I growl with a smile before removing my hand off his lips. “I want chocolate.”

“Still not helping with what you just said.”

"Not helping your self-esteem thinking you have to con me with food to get me to fuck you," I tease before a wave of black hits the right side of my periphery and right in front of the painting—and stands there.

Glancing over, a man in a black suit with massive shoulders and girth stares at me. Another stands next to him, and when I look back at Enzo, my left side catches the same thing. Two more suited linebackers with solemn faces stare straight over my head. As though this isn’t weird as hell.

My champagne glass is then plucked from my grasp, drawing my attention along with my next exhale.

My whole existence suspends as Wade sips my champagne nonchalantly, his blue eyes locked on me. Dressed in a New York Yankee tee and hat, he finishes my drink in one gulp and hands the empty glass to one of his suits.

“Miss Shelton,” he finally greets in a dull tone. Then his eyes flick to Enzo’s hands still on my hips, the proximity of our bodies, and back to me. “I didn’t know you were into the art scene.”

“Are you—holy shit,” Enzo gushes as his fingers tighten around my skirt. “You’re President Lockwood.”

Wade returns his attention back to Enzo with an unimpressed and he-could-give-a-shit look. “Yep.”

Dead air falls around us, and it's then that I notice how quiet the gallery is. That pretty much everyone has been cleared out or has been issued out by the man now standing in front of me.

Enzo’s hand shoots out towards Wade like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m Enzo Junus. It is beyond a pleasure to meet you, Mr. President. I voted for you.”

Oh, my fucking God.

“Thanks,” Wade deadpans, giving his hand a curt shake before dropping it. His gaze cuts back to me. “Good to know.”

Wait. Wait. Wait.

What does THAT mean?!

“Hold up.” Enzo’s eyes widen in excitement. “You both know each other?!”

I clench my eyes shut, pleading to Enzo in my head to shut the hell up. He couldn’t stroke Wade’s self-admiration anymore if he got on his knees right now.

"I'm a little taken back," Wade remarks. "I definitely would've thought Reagan would have mentioned me. We did work very closely there for a while."

When my eyes snap open, my expression says it all. I hate you. He must catch on to it because Wade’s lips lift.

“Damn, Rea,” Enzo gapes, tugging me closer into his frame. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you worked for the President of the United States.”

“He was a governor back then,” I convey. “There’s a million of them.”

“But he’s the president now.” He throws out his hand in added effect. “Damn, woman, there is so much more I need to learn about you.” He shifts his next comment to Wade. “She’s like a clam, all closed off, but when she opens up, it’s like a blast of—ouch!”

Shit, I pinched him.

I brush it off with a forced laugh. “Enzo, he’s married. He knows all about that, goodness. It’s been like, what, almost ten years, Governor?”

“Rea, he’s the pres—”

"Just about." I can see the tightness in his jaw, but he keeps his body placid. “Which brings me to why I’m here. Would you mind giving us a few moments, Mr. Anus? I’ll give her right back.”

My eyes thin, but Enzo doesn't seem to notice that he fucked up his last name because he's already kissing the top of my head and being escorted away by two of Wade’s brutes. The other two, Wade nods away, leaving us alone but still out in the open.

I’m uneasy, more than I was before.

He’s where I live. Where I feel safe, well, not anymore. There is not one inch of this country where Wade can’t insert himself. I’ve fucked with a man who’s now one of the most powerful in the world.

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