Page 56 of Presidential Bargain
I had a series of appointments that kept me busy, and my mind off Jameson. I met with some politically active female celebrities, which was completely nerve-wracking. I had met so many people campaigning with and for Jameson, but I was speechless when I met these women. However, I found their commitment to women’s issues and education inspiring, and eventuallyrelaxed.
This is going to be your life now, I told myself. No more late night tiramisu and wine binges. No more weekends without bathing. My life was going to be filled with celebrities and foreign dignitaries. I suddenly felt inelegant around thesewomen.
The next stop was at a hospital and I immediately felt back in my element, meeting with patients and their families. Jameson supported more funding for cancer research. He found it a worthy investment and I was eager to share that information with the people I met at thehospital.
“Have faith in him,” I told the patients who probably wouldn’t live to see him elected. “He wants to restore the funding that has been cut. Finding a cure is incredibly important to bothofus.”
That visit drained me. As I sat in the back of the sedan that chauffeured me from appointment to appointment, I longed for Jameson. I wanted to curl up in his arms and rest my head on his shoulder. I looked down at the simple watch on my wrist. A few more hours and then we’d be together again. I could make it that long withoutbreakingdown.
Luckily, the people in charge of my physical appearance scheduled a hair appointment for me. No more smiles andspeeches.
I easily relaxed into the salon chair and let the stylist work her magic. Everyone swirled around us in the busy salon, but I hardly noticed because I retreated into the quiet of my ownthoughts.
It was highly probable that I was going to be the next First Lady of the United States of America. That thought should have freaked me out and sent me running for the nearest bakery. But I was strangely excited about this new role. I became a teacher because I wanted to make a difference in the lives of my students. I wanted to open their eyes to the amazing world of literature and the freedom that came with disappearing into the worlds created by so many talented authors. I wanted to help them find their voice, and to express themselves in writing. More often than not, I made little difference in their lives. The percentage of students I personally affected was minimal. As the First Lady, I had the opportunity to really make a lasting impact. A ridiculous amount of resources would be at my disposal, something I didn’t have as a teacher. Not to mention, Jameson had agreed to consider my choices for Secretary ofEducation.
The thought of spending the rest of my life with Jameson made my heart race with excitement. I fell probably instantly, before he even approached me with his ludicrous arrangement. Not only was Jameson deliciously handsome with his fine, straight features, jet-black hair and bright blue eyes, but he was the total package. Looks, brain, heart. He had it all and he won more than just my vote when he added his name to the list of candidates. Agreeing to his unorthodox proposal was a no-brainer, even if I did give him an unnecessary amount ofgrief.
What made me nervous was not the idea of spending my life with him. That was just as enticing as being First Lady. My unease came from him. He sent mixed signals. He said that I was his often, but he still kept some distance between us. The defiant part of him wanted to prove that he could be the president without a First Lady, which created the walls between us. Having a relationship with me wasn’t his priority, but if he thought it would never happen, that he would be able to keep me at arm’s length forever and never develop feelings, then he wasinsane.
The sound of the blow-dryer shutting off snapped me out of my own thoughts and the stylist spun me around until I was faced with my own reflection. She had turned my normally dark amber-colored hair into a vibrant golden shade, which made my green eyes sparkle like little emeralds. I smiled as I thought about Jameson. He would have a very difficult time resisting metonight.
I thanked her and proceeded to the front of the salon, where I attempted to pay for the servicesmyself.
“The campaign has already forwarded payment to us,” the receptionistinformedme.
“Well, I’d rather pay for the services myself. What’s thetotal?”
“Three hundred dollars,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh.” I didn’t have three hundred dollars on a credit card and there was a good chance I didn’t even have that amount in my checking account. I used up most of my cash and available credit with Avon when we bought supplies for the school we visited and made care packages for the women at theshelter.
“I’ll just reimburse the campaign then.Thankyou.”
The receptionist gave me a tight smile and I turned around, covering my eyes with dark sunglasses. I walked out of the salon and into the waitingsedan.
As soon as the door was shut, I checked my watch. One more hour until I saw Jameson. I made a mental note to discuss my financial situation with him. Even though I was most likely completely broke, I didn’t feel right taking the five million dollars he had offered. But money still made me anxious, especially since I knew the First Lady and president paid for a lot of their personal expenses. I didn’t have any savings. I lived paycheck-to-paycheck. Maybe I could be the most frugal First Lady ever. I wondered how America would feel about the First Lady usingcoupons.
I was deposited at the hotel, which was more posh and luxurious than previous hotels. Secret Service escorted me up to the suite, which was drenched in the golden California sun shining through walls of windows. There were no other events on tonight’s agenda because of Jameson’s arrival. Tomorrow, though, would be chaotic, as would the next few weeks. I sat on the suite’s cavernous balcony and flipped through the printed agenda I had been given by my press secretary. Multiple appearances during the day and fundraising dinners at night. I closed the agenda and set it on the table. There was only one thing left to do: takeanap.
Strong arms enveloped me andwarm lips pressed against my skin. I turned in my sleepy state and pressed my face into a very familiar chest. I stretched my body along the length of his and smiled to myself. Jameson was here. My eyes popped open and I was face-to-face with the man who consumed all of my thoughts and invaded mydreams.
“Jameson,” I breathed out. My hands glided up his chest until they wrapped around his neck. I pulled his face down toward mine and found his lips. My kiss began softly, but my body started to wake up, along with my need for him. Softness turned into greediness. I was greedy for his mouth, for his touch. We kissed and kissed, until we were bothbreathless.
“I missed you so much,” I murmured against his skin as I trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Nimble fingers worked deftly on his buttons, spreading the front of his shirt open to reveal his broad, defined chest. My lips traveled there, kissing the wide expanse of flesh that was exposedtome.
“Georgie,” Jameson hummed as I made my way down to the waistband of his trousers. His hands were lost in my hair, tugging on the salon-perfectedtresses.
I worked on unbuckling and unbuttoning him until I was tugging his pants open. I snaked my hand down the front of his boxer briefs, reaching for his thickness. He groaned as my hand clasped around his lengthtightly.
I was hungry for him. I felt starved of his touch and the only way to satisfy me was to have him inside me, filling me. I pulled Jameson’s cock free and wrapped my lips around him, sucking him deeply until I heard a hiss escape his lips. I held him with one hand while the other hand disappeared under my skirt. I stroked myself while I feastedonhim.
I was dripping wet when I climbed on top of him. My skirt was gathered around my waist, my panties bunched around my ankles. Jameson shoved his trousers down his legs quickly once he realized my intent. I held his cock firmly while I guided myself on top of him, and he held my hips tightly while I sank down. The moment he was fully sheathed inside me, both of our heads snapped back and our hisses of pleasure echoed eachother.
I started a sensuous rhythm, grinding myself slowly back and forth against him. We finally made eye contact and my own greediness was reflected in hisheatedgaze.
I braced myself with my hands against his chest, using it as leverage to move over him, to take him deeply inside. His fingers dug sharply into my hips as he heldmeup.
I felt insatiable. I wanted his hands all over me. I stopped briefly to remove my top and bra, exposing my breasts. Jameson’s hands skated up my bared chest until his hands covered each mound, grabbing andkneadingthem.
