Page 34 of Presidential Bargain
Jameson slid off the arm of the chair and stretched out his long body. I made sure to get my fill, enjoying the way his body moved under the fine cut of the suit he wore. I stood too, smoothing out the many layers of mydress.
“Georgie, just a few quick questions.” Right. Sierra was supposed to include a written piece to accompany herphotographs.
“Sure.” I flopped back down in the chair, letting out anexasperatedsigh.
Sierra snapped another picture and then smiled at me when she removed the camera away from her face. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. When I see something, I taketheshot.”
I understood, but I was done being in front of her lens. I just wanted to go back to the comfort of our hotel suite and climb into bed with Jameson. And maybe a giant slice of tiramisu. Damn my sweettooth.
“I meant to ask Jameson this, but I guess it doesn’t matter who I ask, really. How did the two ofyoumeet?”
Oh shit! We hadn’t really ever discussed that story. What was I supposed to tell her? I thought long and hard, which I’m sure made her wonder why the answer didn’t just roll off my tongue. “Paul Danville, my old principal, is good friends with Jameson’s father. He introduced us.” There. That was sort of thetruth.
“Small world,” she commented, jotting something down in a notebook. I smiled tightly. “Tell me about your relationship withJameson.”
She asked Jameson this as well and I sort of eavesdropped on their interview. I knew how he answered and I decided it would be best to respond with something similar. “It was unexpected. When we met, I don’t think either of us wanted a relationship. But Jameson is different. He doesn’t look at me with pity, like most of the people I know. He sees me. I finally feel like I belong to someone, like I’m a part of somethingagain.”
I wasn’t expecting all of that to come out, but once I opened my mouth to speak, the truth was easy to admit. When I was with Jameson, I wasn’t the girl whose parents lost their fortune and died tragically. I was his equal, someone he respected. He gave my life a new purpose and it felt like I was always meant to standbesidehim.
“What should the rest of the country know aboutJameson?”
There was so much I could say. That he listened almost exclusively to classic rock, that he ran for miles so he could think and focus, that he looked ridiculously hot in just black boxer briefs. That his glacial blue eyes could bring me to my knees with one piercing gaze. “He loves his country more than anything. Serving the people is his true passion. I have never met anyone more devoted to public service than Jameson. His dedication and commitment to this country is honestly inspirational. It was disappointing to see what was being said about him being unmarried because that just diminishes the commitment he’s made to public service. How can people reduce his fitness to serve to just this one, tiny insignificant issue? I don’tunderstandit.”
I had been rambling, I could tell, and I looked up at Sierra, who just stared at me with her shrewd gray eyes. I don’t think she expected me to say that. I don’t even think Jameson would have expected thatanswer.
“I was going to ask you more, but I think I’m done.” Sierra stood up and began moving around the studio space, giving instructions to herassistants.
I returned to the makeshift dressing room, tucked behind a folding screen, and began toundress.
I turned, ready to ask one of the stylists to help me with the zipper, when I felt firm, familiar hands on myshoulders.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured, running his nose along my shoulder and up my neck before nipping my earlobe with his teeth. His hands slid down the back of my arms to my waist and around my backside. Jameson gripped the hem of my dress and its many layers tightly in his hands before lifting and running his hands along my barethighs.
“I need you right now,” he growled. He walked me over to a counter along the wall and bent meforward.
I placed my hands on the smooth surface to steady myself and waited. I heard a rustle of fabric and the metallic clink of his belt, followed by the whir of hiszipper.
“Suck,” he commanded, working his fingers into mymouth.
Greedily I took them, feasting and sucking. He groaned and then removed them, slipping them inside of my sex. He worked me thoroughly with his fingers, dragging them along my seam, spreading me open. I was getting overheated and pantingheavily.
“Shh,” he whispered, “or they’llhearus.”
I nodded, trying my best to quiet myself. His fingers worked their way through every inch of me and when they were gone, I whimpered. I felt empty without histouch.
“Jameson,” Icriedout.
“I know, little darling.Iknow.”
The head of his cock nudged me and I spread my legs wider, allowing him more room. He slid inside, inch by inch, torturing me with his slow, deliberative movements. When he was fully inside, Jameson remained still, letting us both adjust to the feeling of fullness. He smoothed his hands along my back before settling on mywaist.
I could remain still no longer. I squirmed, grinding my ass against him. He sucked in a breath and began moving, pumping in and out in a steady rhythm. We were by no means in a private spot. The area was open at both ends and anyone could walk past and see us. The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh filled the space. We tried to be quiet.Itried to be quiet, but when a man as powerful as Jameson Martin has you bent over a counter and is fucking you senseless, it’s damn near impossible to besilent.
I slipped one hand from the counter in between my legs and stroked my clit furiously, eager to end the tension that was growing inside of me. Jameson’s hands lifted the skirt of my dress further, exposing my scorched flesh to the cool air of the room. Fingers kneaded my ass, exposing me to him. His thumb grazed the tight pucker of muscle and nerves, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling throughmybody.
“Fuck, Georgie.” His voice was a growl, a feral snarl. We were both so incrediblyclose.
“Harder,” Ibegged.
