Page 38 of Longing for Liberty
The Secretary hadn’t come back,and it was three PM.
As I swept the dust, I wondered…had he been waiting to greet me this morning? I was grateful he’d been here, with the whole Mrs. Durgess thing, but I didn’t want him to feel any sort of way about me or to anticipate my arrival. How could I get him to lose interest…or whatever this was? Maybe he was drawn to me because I was a nice, “good girl?” Would he get turned off if I were more forward?CouldI make myself be more forward? Or would he turn me over to the State Force for being a Jezebel?
Ugh.
I had no idea what to do. Although it was a relief to have him gone so I could clean without his overwhelming presence, I was also hoping to learn more information that might help the resistance. It was a double-edged sword. I thought about the Dutch sisters all the time, and I wondered—did those girls have husbands or boys that they loved? This situation wouldn’t be as difficult if it weren’t for Jeremy.
Worse than the thought of having sex with the Secretary was the thought of enjoying it. I didn’t want to. I wanted to hate Amos Fitzhugh as much as I hated President Roan, but the Secretary’s top three position had been created after the dismantling of America. I knew next to nothing about him other than petty gossip that people had spread about him as a governor before our rights to free speech had been fully stripped.
I thought back to the whistleblower article and didn’t recall Fitzhugh being mentioned. Jeremy said they were all from the Order of Mercy, but what if he was wrong? And if Fitzhugh was a member of the OM, was it possible that any of them disagreed with the cult or wanted to somehow sabotage it?
The problem was, I didn’t hate Amos Fitzhugh. I needed to hate him.
So far, the two conversations I’d overheard with him talking about Community Five didn’t reveal his true thoughts. But to me, he didn’t give off disdainful vibes toward C5, which was very confusing because that’s exactly what I felt from Roan and Walinger. I shivered just thinking about those two. Fitzhugh also didn’t seem overly impressed with his fellow leaders. Sometimes he seemed annoyed by them.
The sound of the door made me look up from my place in the middle of the hall. Fitzhugh’s eyes found mine immediately, and he stood there staring hard at me for a long moment. I blinked and looked down, my heart suddenly jumping around as I scolded myself,Keep sweeping! I heard his footsteps, even and slow, coming toward me.
Stay calm.
I expertly pushed the tiny pile of dirt and dust into the dustpan on the floor and shifted to the side for him to pass. But he didn’t. I felt him stop behind me as I faced the wall. His energy pulsed behind me, heated and electric. My brain short-circuited, and I stopped trying to sweep, instead staring at the blank wall and working very hard to keep my breath steady. My hair had been pulled into a low ponytail with a strip of cloth.
Warmth spread against the side of my neck, his breath, and then his lips were there, surprisingly soft. I closed my eyes.
“Liberty…”
My heart was going erratic. “Yes, sir?” I whispered, not able to keep the tremble from my voice.
“Do you want me?”
I made a small, pathetic, accidental whisper as he pressed himself against my back, making me move forward until I was against the wall, my cheek to the painted surface. I raised my hands to place my palms above my shoulders, thoroughly pinned. His hard length was apparent through his trousers, pushing into my lower back and upper bottom. I held back the urge to rise up on my tiptoes for him.
His nose ran from under my ear, down my neck, and his warm breath gave me a shiver. “Answer me.”
“No,” I said hoarsely.
He leveled me with a deep, guttural sound like a growl as he moved his hands around to the front of my blouse and began unbuttoning. I was practically panting as he undid every button and pulled it off me, dropping it to the ground. Then he did the same with my bra. When I was topless, he took my wrists and forcefully pressed my palms to the wall above my head.
“Stay just like this.”
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.
So slowly, he unzipped my skirt and pushed it down. And then my cotton panties. I was completely naked now, and Secretary Fitzhugh’s massive body was pressing me against the wall again, his face nuzzling my neck. Lightning shot down my torso and struck my core as I fought the instinct, once more, to rise up and push back into him. My labored breathing was too loud.
“Still no?” he asked.
Another whimper escaped, and I bit down on my bottom lip, overwhelmed.
“Liberty…” My name was spoken like a warning now, like a parent ready to punish. He brought one hot hand up to grasp one of my breasts and the other down to cup my crotch, his fingertips touching my clit and causing me to gasp. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.” It came out on a breath, and he spun me in his arms.
Our mouths crashed together, and I pulled at him, finding it impossible not to compare every new sensation to what I was used to. He had more hair, which I shoved my fingers into as I pulled his mouth harder over mine. He was taller, making me go up on my toes. His arms were massive, practically lifting me off my feet. His mouth tasted different—I couldn’t pinpoint how—but not bad. Just different. Still nice.
Too nice.
He pulled the tie out of my hair, and the locks fell heavily over my shoulders; then he pressed me hard into the wall. My body reacted like I’d stepped on a firecracker, jumping and igniting. I rubbed my hips brazenly against him and moaned into his mouth when one of his huge hands reached around to cup my ass and pulled me hard upward.
And then, to my confusion, his mouth left mine, and he was lowering me, pulling away, standing tall, and looking down at me with satisfaction. He put his hands into his pockets. Was this when he would take me to the bedroom? I peered up at him with expectation, still breathing too hard, heart going berserk. The tiny, slight grin from earlier tweaked the side of his mouth.
