Page 57 of Presidential Bargain
I leaned back and used his thighs to keep me steady. Jameson kept one hand on my breasts, alternating between my sensitive nipples while he used his other hand to massage my clit. The friction of his hands on me, combined with my own erotic dance, sent me straight totheedge.
“I’m so close,” I saidbreathlessly.
“Give it to me,” Jameson growled. Both of his strong hands stopped their attention to grip my hips again. He held me in place while he lifted his hips and slammed himself into me over and over. The friction of his body against my already sensitive flesh had me falling right over the precipice of orgasm. Jameson was right there with me and we tumbled together until I collapsed onto hischest.
“That was one hell of a welcome,” he saidhoarsely.
I looked up at him through my hooded gaze and smiled wickedly. Then he grinned lasciviously and rolled me onto my back where he demonstrated with great proficiency just how much hemissedme.
This trip was justwhatGeorgie and I needed after the tumultuous campaign events back east. Her skin developed a gorgeous glow and she seemed more relaxed. She was starting to fulfill her campaign duties with ease that it was hard to believe there was a time when she wasn’t a part of it. She was vital not only to my campaign, buttome.
The West Coast was always more liberal, so we didn’t have to try hard to sell our vision for America. We were all relaxed, enjoying the energy of campaigning and meeting voters. There was also no more talk about “us”. Georgie didn’t ask about her place in my life, but she frequently reminded me of her love. Before I gave speeches, she would kiss me and whisper, “I love you.” When I was deep inside her, satisfying the connection we both craved, she would chant it. And then there were the random moments, like when we stopped for doughnuts in Portland because I knew we couldn’t leave the city without visiting a famous shop known for its outrageous concoctions. She was practically giddy holding the pink box in her lap. She looked at me, with a childlike gleam in her eyes, and said, “Jameson, I not only love you, but as long as you buy me doughnuts, I will fuckingworshipyou.”
Every time she said it, I expected to feel uneasy or awkward. But I didn’t. Pride swelled in my chest because I made her happy. She made me feel relaxed and content. Her love gave me a new level of confidence and I was riding high as the campaign rolled into Phoenix for the seconddebate.
The second debate was a town-hall format. There wasn’t really a moderator, just a host who ensured order. The questions were provided by audience members in advance and the Election Commission then chose the questions that would be asked. Since the location of this debate was Phoenix, I focused my prep on immigration and domestic policy. Arizona was a firm “red state” and they cared about their guns, so I also firmed up my position on the SecondAmendment.
We arrived at the university where the debate was being hosted. Georgie looked beautiful in a pair of olive-colored pants with a black camisole underneath a silk, cream-colored, short-sleeved jacket. Her hair was braided and she was fresh-faced. She called her look “fancy casual”, which made me smile. I was also dressed a bit more casually than the previous debate. I wore a pair of crisp khaki pants and a blue checkered shirt with the collar undone and a navy blueblazer.
Georgie and I were a sharp contrast to how Governor Huntley and his wife were dressed. Louise Huntley was done up in a bright red suit with large gold earrings and heavy gold jewelry. Her platinum-blond bob was perfectly shellacked into place. The governor was in a traditional suit and his tie and pocket square matched the color ofLouise’ssuit.
I hated giving so much thought to how we looked, but whenever I would protest about clothing, Lewis and Jenkins were there to remind me about Nixon andKennedy.
“Kennedy’s good looks played an important part in his victory over Richard Nixon. Nixon was more qualified, but Kennedy was hotter,” Lewis informed me.Right.
“So you’re telling me I’m running on a Ken doll platform?” I saidsarcastically.
“No, but it certainly doesn’t hurt us that you’re hot,” Jenkins chimed in, his eyes traveling the length ofmybody.
The triviality of this campaign was damned annoying at times. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied Georgie talking with some members of the audience. She started out as a part of that triviality and she was now an essential part of my life. It pained me to admit that there was always some truth to the madness of Lewis andJenkins.
The town-hall format of the debate meant the governor and I could walk around the stage. We could interact with our audience. It also meant I could see Georgie sitting clearly in the front row. There weren’t any blinding lights preventing me from looking out andseeingher.
As was her tradition, Georgie kissed me chastely and pressed our foreheads together. “I love you,” she murmured just before the start of the debate. Her love was a buoy, keeping my confidence constantlyafloat.
Governor Huntley was clearly more prepared this second time around, and there wasn’t a scandal involving my personal life to address, so he hit me hard on more substantial issues. I took notes on issues we needed to address better, areas of weakness the governor managed to identify. But I wasn’t pulling any punches either. There were areas where the governor and I differed greatly. One of my greatest strengths was my military background and it was easy to hit the governor on his lack of service. Not only did I graduate from West Point, but I also served well beyond my required four years after graduation and I had been elevated to the rank of major during my service. His lack of service was a legitimate criticism and I made sure to attack him often, to emphasize that he evaded service to the country. The governor would shrink back and respond by circling back to a topic that was morecomfortable.
There were times when the governor cornered me, but instead of giving in, I tried to address the area of deficiency. I was not a perfect candidate. I was aware that many of my more liberal viewpoints did not sit well with many Americans, nor with many of my conservative colleagues. But I was a negotiator and I made it a point to stress my willingness to work with both parties to craft legislation that benefited the Americanpeople.
“I have a percentage in my mind, every time a new bill comes across my desk in the Senate,” I told the audience. “If that piece of legislation does not meet that percentage, then I won’t sign it. That’s how I’ll approach the presidency. If a piece of legislation comes to me and it doesn’t pass this one simple test, I’ll veto it. The people come first. Everyone and everything else is a distantsecond.”
That was how the debate ended and when I finished speaking, I smiled with relief. I made it a point to greet audience members, to thank them for attending or participating. I took the time to talk with them briefly, to look into questions they had or issues they wanted to address. The entire time, though, I was mindful of Georgie, of her proximity to not only me, but to the governor. She seemed to gravitate toward me, and together, we worked the rest oftheroom.
I held her hand firmly in my own and often, I would look down at them tangled together. The partnership that formed as a result of our arrangement was unexpectedly familiar. It was something I wanted to last. I wanted it to be permanent. The last few weeks I took time to consider what Georgie wanted from me, what she had already given to me. She was nothing but fair in asking for reassurance that I wasn’t going to get rid of her the moment she became ‘unnecessary’ because truthfully, that was never going to happen. My tune on having a First Lady had changed considerably and I planned on telling Georgie exactly what she wanted to hear once we were back in New Hampshire, in herfamilyhome.
We were finally backinmy home state. I was beyond thrilled to campaign in Nashua, Keene, and Exeter, but Jameson seemed nervous. On stage, he was the confident candidate, but in private he was quiet and reserved. I would often catch him staring at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. Every time he realized he’d been caught, he’d shake his head as if clearing away a daze, and then kiss me. Each kiss was soft and lingered, like he wasn’t truly finishedkissingme.
“I have a surprise for you,” Jamesoninformedme.
We had just ended a town hall event and I was beyond exhausted. I collapsed against the plush leather seat of the SUV we traveled in and looked at him. He had that introspective look on his face, the one that told me he had been deep in thought. Our hands were connected, fingers intertwined, palms touching. He gazed down at where they rested, linked together, and then he lifted them, bringing them to his lips. He placed reverent kisses where our hands were joined and I felt a heaviness in my chest. Our relationship was suddenly changing; I could feel it thicken the airbetweenus.
“What is it?” I askedquietly.
“I’m takingyouhome.”
I gasped at his confession. He was taking me back home? I was both nervous and excited because I hadn’t returned since the day I fled to my parents’ cabin and I knew that renovations had been going on. What would I findthere?
“Oh, Jameson,” I whispered before I flung myself at him. I peppered his face with short kisses until he pulledmeaway.
