Page 16 of Bodyman

So when we finally escaped the demands on his attention and left the Oval Office to head to the residence, I took in a deep breath and silently lectured myself on the value of patience.

I tried to channel Patrick Picklebottom and the Longest Wait.

Warm summer air floated across the Rose Garden, bringing its familiar floral scent to the colonnade as we made our way from the West Wing to the residence. Bougainvillea blossoms bobbed their heads as we walked by.

Lights and sounds of the city encroached, but for some reason, they always seemed fairly removed across the acres of pristinely manicured gardens separating us from the city streets.

Several agents stood sentinel along the path as we passed by. Even if they hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have spoken to the president about private matters unless invited to or securely locked behind closed doors.

So when we made it to the residence and were finally free of all the agents, I decided to continue upstairs to my own bedroom.

Garner made a growling noise in his throat. I blinked at him in surprise. “Sir?”

“Can we talk?”

I must have let my sudden anxiety show in my expression because he quickly sputtered, “Not like that. Like… just talk. Not… Please?”

I nodded and followed him to his bedroom, where he closed the door and locked it before pulling me over to the padded bench at the foot of the bed before kicking off his shoes and then climbing onto my lap to straddle me.

He wasn’t a small man, but then again, neither was I.

My hands went immediately to his ass. Touching him after several hours of keeping my distance was too good to be true.

He leaned in to kiss me, and I hardly even noticed when all my rational thoughts hopped a midnight train going anywhere but here.

We kissed desperately, hungry to reconnect and ensure ourselves and each other it hadn’t all been a dream or a onetime thing.

“Missed you,” he managed to say between kisses.

“Love you,” I said back.

He tucked his nose into my neck and took a few deep breaths before pulling back and firming his jaw. “And I have a plan.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

GARNER

My plan was more of a plea.

“I want to go public,” I began, anticipating a negative reaction.

Kenan didn’t even blink. “Okay. When?”

“Soon. Whenever the press secretary thinks is best, but soon. I don’t…” I moved my hands to the buttons of his shirt and began unbuttoning them slowly. “I don’t want to spend another night apart if we can help it, so…”

“So eventually, we’ll get found out anyway,” Kenan suggested with the merest hint of a grin. He moved his hands up to catch mine and stop me from undressing him. “Talk to me about what you’re thinking. How do you want this to play out?”

“I want you to be protected,” I admitted. “A Secret Service detail or whatever version of it they think is best, considering you’ll still be with me most of the time.” This was the part I was worried about. “That is… if you’re still willing to stay as my?—”

“Yes,” he said in a rush, pressing a hard kiss against my mouth before I could take in a breath. “Fuck yes. I was worried you’d want me to?—”

I replaced my lips with my hand to stop him. “No. I’m too selfish. I can’t imagine not having you with me every day.”

My hand lowered to press over his heart. “It’s going to be hard, Kenan. People are going to try and tear us apart.”

He nodded. “I know, baby. But it’s going to be hard no matter when we do it, and I don’t want to wait three and a half more years for people to know how much you mean to me. Besides, nothing anyone could say would make me turn away from you.”

Hearing him call me baby, I felt like I could breathe fully for the first time all day. “Same. Okay, so… you’re going to sleep in here with me now, right?”

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