Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 40662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
I wish I could see him. I know he’s stressed to the max, and I think I know how I can help.
But I also know not to push. We’re still hiding this relationship, even if the Secret Service knows about it. I can’t approach him any more than he can approach me in broad daylight.
So I’m left waiting, watching the news, wishing I could talk to him. Wishing he’d at least call me.
Two weeks drag past until one night, that call finally comes.
I’m working late in the office when the number pops up. Private, like always, and my heart’s beating fast when I answer.
“Hello?”
“President for you.” His secretary sounds short this time. The line clicks over immediately.
“Hi, Maggie,” he says softly.
“Adam.” I suck in a breath, barely able to control myself. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Just juggling an international crisis, so pretty great.”
I laugh softly. “I’ve been watching the news. I’m so sorry this has been so hard on you.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “It’s my job. They have to place blame somewhere, and it might as well be with me.”
“It’s just not fair.”
“Don’t worry, Maggie, really. I’m fine.”
I sigh, biting my lip. I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, and I won’t press the issue.
“Where are you right now?” he asks. “At home?”
“Actually, no,” I say. “Working late. Again.”
He laughs. “You work too hard. It’s, what, eight?”
“Nine.”
“Shit. Always later than I think it is.”
“I guess I just like it here too much to go home.”
“I doubt that.” He pauses for a second. “Come see me.”
That’s what I’ve been waiting for.
That’s the real reason I’m working late, and have worked late for the past two weeks.
Every day, day after day, on the off chance that I’d see him, that he’d call.
I’ve stayed later than I really wanted, just in case. Waiting for him.
Dreaming of him. Craving him.
“Okay,” I say right away. “Where?”
“Oval office. Come in ten minutes. Susie’s on her way out.”
“Okay,” I say. “Ten minutes.”
“See you then.”
He hangs up. I sit back in my chair.
Ten minutes. What’s ten minutes? I’ve been waiting two weeks, night after night. I can wait ten minutes.
Except my leg’s jostling, bouncing, excitement and nerves coursing through me. I’m like a kid on Christmas morning. I want to run to him, hold him, kiss him.
I want to talk to him, hear about how he’s been feeling.
Or we don’t have to talk. Or I can just kiss him, taste him.
Let his thick cock sink between my legs.
I’m smiling as the minutes tick past, and finally, after ten minutes exactly, I get up from my desk and head to the Oval Office.
It’s a bit of a walk, but I’m able to approach the door without any problems. The Secret Service agent standing nearby just nods at me as I pass.
The door isn’t locked. I walk right in, shutting the door behind me.
Adam looks up from his desk. For a second, my breath catches in my throat.
He’s the shining image of the President. This is the kind of man everyone wants behind this desk.
He smiles, stands. His suit, the jacket on the back of the chair, fits him perfectly. The shirt clings to his muscular body, though it isn’t too tight.
He looks like a king.
He looks like my Daddy.
“Maggie,” he says, like my name is some kind of magical incantation. “Come here.”
My momentary awkwardness melts away. We haven’t seen each other in two weeks, but at that single command, it all clicks back together. It’s like we’ve been seeing each other every day.
I walk to him, around the desk, and press my body against his.
He wraps his arms around me, pulls me tight against his chest. He breathes in the smell of my hair and I breathe in the smell of his body.
We stay there for a moment. No words pass between us, but I feel like he says everything I need to hear.
His hands on my hips.
His body tight against mine.
Firm, solid, in command.
I can feel how tired he is.
But it doesn’t matter. He’s always in command, always in charge, always in control. Even when he’s tired and it looks like the world is stacked against him.
I look up and meet his gaze. “I missed you,” I say softly.
He smirks, tilts my chin up. “You missed your Daddy?” he asks.
“I really missed my Daddy,” I admit.
He kisses me softly at first. Just lips, soft but still firm. But slowly, it turns into more, his tongue against mine, his taste flooding my body.
It’s what I’ve been needing for so long.
And right in the middle of the Oval Office.
The thought occurs to me, scares me, actually. I feel like we should be running out of here.
But I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
I need this. And if I stop, I may never come back.
He turns me and hefts me up. Suddenly I’m sitting on top of the Resolute desk, my legs spread, wrapped around the President’s hips. I groan as he kisses me harder, unbuttoning my blouse, my tight skirt pushed up already