Page 70 of Power Surge

“You're the one who keeps pointing out that this detail is tougher than the previous years with the VPs. I agree and decided to train like it. I'm no good to her fucking weak like I was. Plus”—I grin—“I'm trying to keep up with your fit ass.”

“Keep dreaming, Playboy. Keep dreaming.”

Soft footsteps approach and pause to my right, a set of long thin legs nearly brushing my own. “Two hours until we land,” says the tall blonde. “Do you need anything, Trey?”

“I'm sitting right here,” Tank grumbles. “Along with the rest of the team.”

I shoot a smirk to Tank. “No, thank you. I'm good.” Hooking a thumb over my left shoulder, I smile at the woman I can’t seem to remember. “But I'm sure Agent Smith could use something?” A faint curse sounds behind me, causing my smile to widen. “I’ll be back in a bit. Going to check on the president.”

Careful not to make any physical contact, I maneuver around the sweet girl and stride down the hall, Smith's emotionless voice demanding he's good chasing me with every step.

Outside her office, I lean against the doorframe, taking in the sight of my girl hard at work. Nail between her teeth, she scribbles something on a yellow legal pad, then violently scratches it out. Twice she does this before whispering a string of very creative curses and tossing the pad of paper to the desk.

“Make sure you don't include that bit about fucking a duck in your speech.”

Her cheeks round, a wide grin forming even before she shifts her attention to where I hover just outside the door. When she does, those hazel eyes lock with mine. Even the smile she's wearing can't hide the turmoil and stress weighing behind her gaze.

“But it's a good line,” she retorts. Leaning back, she tosses her tortoiseshell glasses to the desk and massages a temple. “I'm excited to share this new bill with the country, but it has to be just right. This plan will offer the needed support for those lost between the lines of poverty and lower middle class and will change the lives of millions. But only if it passes the House and Senate, and I have zero clue how to make that happen.”

The soles of my black shoes slide over the well-worn carpet. No doubt many presidents have paced the small office of Air Force One. Wonder what else has been done in here.

On the opposite side of the desk, I lean forward, knuckles pressed to the hard flat surface, closing the distance between us.

“You're doing a good job, Mess. You’ll find a way to convince those assholes in DC what’s best for the American people.”

“Without selling my soul?” she jokes on a huff.

“One can hope.”

Long silky brown hair slips over her slender shoulders as she shakes her head. “I want to do so much more with my time in office, be the president who actually accomplished something. Who knew this job would be more like herding donkeys than actually getting shit done.”

“Isn't the phrase ‘herding cats’?” I push off the desk to retreat to the still open door.

“Have youmetthe politicians sitting in the House and Senate? Herding jackasses is the more appropriate description.”

“I don’t know, herding pussies is also a good metaphor for those spineless shitheads who can’t make a decision without worrying about offending a monetary supporter.”

Chuckling at her chastising huff for the crass word, I search the empty hallway. Hand wrapped around the knob, I tug the door closed and flick the lock.

The earlier curiosity at what has and hasn’t been done in this room has bloomed to a full-on fantasy. Fantasies of her on that desk spread-eagle while I lick her dry. Of her face plastered to the polished surface while I fuck her from behind. And my personal favorite of me on the couch, head tossed back in beautiful bliss with her on her knees, taking all of me between her lips and down her swallowing throat.

The vivid fantasies ramp up the anticipation flowing through my veins, heading straight to my stiffening cock. It eagerly twitches inside my boxer briefs.

I lean back against the closed doors and take her in. The stress and tension I noticed the moment I walked in are nowhere to be seen as she nibbles her lower lip. Her lids droop, turning heavy with desire as her gaze tracks the hand now gripping my stiff dick over my slacks.

“You seem stressed.” A shiver of pure joy bolts down my spine at the flush spreading across her cheeks and neck.

“A little, you could say. Running the country and all leaves a girl tense.”

“Get on the desk, Mess.” My eyes flare, my cock somehow getting harder at her immediate response to the order. The chair shoves back, almost toppling over in her haste to stand.

Hell yes. Two hours until touchdown, which means I have a full hour to play dirty with my girl. Plenty of time to help her relax.

Several times.

* * *

The tension permeating the air is so thick I can almost taste it as the first set of agents disappears through the open plane door. Beside me, Randi fidgets with a loose button on her blazer with a red-tipped fake nail cracking between her front teeth. Tank scans the line of agents waiting to exit again and again, seeming to check off some mental list.

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