Page 31 of The Senator: Raphael

I nod. “Yes. That spot is thoroughly clean by now. But he’s not watching us, he’s ogling your ass. These leggings will be the death of the pool guy.”

And mine too. The way the fabric wraps her round ass and hugs her trim waist is right out of a magazine. She’s perfect.

“So, that’s why your erection is poking my ass?” she smirks, holding my gaze as she pops a blueberry in her mouth.

I shift a bit, adjusting her in my lap to avoid the crotch area. “Sorry about that. I didn’t notice it was pressed there.” It’s useless to deny my evident attraction.

She shrugs. “It’s okay. I just said I’m so horny my nipples are like rocks. We’re human. We make out all the time, it’s not like I’m disgusted by it.”

God, this situation is so messed up I don’t even know where to start. On paper it looks so easy. Like making a movie: you play a part, you kiss, hug, pretend to be in love. No big deal, right? Wrong! I can control my actions, but I can’t control my body. And I’m attracted to her. A lot. I don’t know how not to look like a horny teenager in front of everyone. I mean, it’s perfect for the role I’m playing, but it’s creepy when she can feel the effect she has on me in the form of my hard shaft pressed against her ass.

I kiss her cheek and when she turns toward me, I peck her full lips. “Sorry honey, but I have to go or Matthew will bust my balls this time.” I help her slip onto her chair as I stand up.

One thing I’ve discovered living with this woman is that I stay at home a lot. Before, I had no one to come home to and would walk out the front door as soon as I got dressed in the morning. Now, I take my time, enjoying conversations with Silver and looking forward to coming home earlier at night. It’s a pleasant surprise, one I didn’t anticipate.

“Please, don’t piss him off. I have a meeting with him later this morning along with the stylist to upgrade my wardrobe. Apparently, we have a lot of official events coming up and I can’t wear the same dress twice,” she complains.

“I know, it’s a waste, but think about it, you’ll have more dresses to auction off on your website and donate to the Los Angeles women’s shelter.” I kiss her on the lips again. This one wasn’t forced, since the pool guy finally moved out of view, but why not? I like kissing her.

“At least there’s that,” she mumbles.

She was outraged when the stylist, with Matthew backing him up, told her she couldn’t reuse a three-thousand-dollar dress she wore only once. She went on a rant that involved the stylist, Cindy, Matthew and me, all having to listen to why this is so wrong. She’s right, but we had to compromise. She buys a new dress, wears it and ends up in the newspaper, and then auctions it on her official charity website, donating the money to a cause she chooses. I’m proud of her for coming up with this idea.

I leave her to her day but first slip into the bathroom before heading out to start my day. I look at my reflection in the mirror and there is no chance my erection will disappear. So, I do what I do most mornings: take out my stiff shaft, pump it imagining Silver’s lips wrapped around it, then come all over the sink and feel guilty about it. Because there is no good way to put it: I’m a perv masturbating at the thought of her.

***

“How’s it going?” Matthew asks me for the umpteenth time this morning.

We’re going through the plan for next month’s campaign. We’re still too far from the midterms to focus our attention on the communities that are still undecided about me. So many people don’t want to vote at all, considering it a waste of time and effort, and those are the ones we have to convince.

“You tell me. You’re the one running my campaign,” I pretend, for the umpteenth time, to misunderstand his real question.

Since having Silver move in with me, my best friend’s been keeping a close eye on our interactions and he’s become a bit worried. He’s monitoring my every reaction, probably because he realizes that fake it or not, Iamliving with a woman. I am kissing her, having important conversation with her, sharing a bed with her. He was there during the worst time of my life, when my heart got broken into thousands of pieces, and I swore I would never give it to another woman again.

I’m still planning on not falling in love with anyone, Silver included, but there is undeniable chemistry between the two of us that I haven’t had with anyone else since I was twenty-one. And this is probably throwing Matthew off balance because he was the one who forced us together; he suggested this solution without fully understanding that I would have an intimate life with this woman. He underestimated that what we’re sharing goes beyond sex and he probably doesn’t know how I’ll react.

“I mean with Silver,” he points out and I lift my eyes from my computer to watch him on the other side of the desk.

“I know you mean Silver, but isn’t it too late to worry about it?” I snap.

Guilt crosses his gaze before he nods.

“Listen, I’m sorry. But I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want to know if you’re okay.” This is my friend talking, not my campaign manager. Sometimes his two roles are so blurred I don’t know it it’s the friend or political expert talking. Right now, the worry on his face leaves no room for question.

“I’m okay. It’s a bit weird because Silver is sort of the perfect politician’s wife, but I’m dealing with it,” I admit.

He studies me with a couple of fingers over his mouth. He always does this when assessing a potentially dangerous situation. “Are you attracted to her?”

“Mentally, yes. Physically, hell yes! Emotionally? No. I’m not attracted to her in that way.” I’m honest with him.

He nods, a bit of worry leaving his face.

“I promise I’ll tell you if I’m spiraling again, okay? I promise you, I’m fine right now.” And it’s true. I’m really fine. I feel the urge to protect Silver because this is what I always do, but I’m not going to give her my heart.

This seems to reassure him because he goes back to business, and I sigh in relief.

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