Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
There’s nothing in the world that could stop me from closing my eyes, laying my cheek on the crown of her head and squeezing her tight. We stay like that for a few seconds, until her warm breath on my throat and her palm sliding up beneath my jacket, up my spine turns my dick into an iron fucking cannon.
I have no name for what comes over me when I fist her hair and pull, turning her face up to mine, memorizing the sensual bow of her upper lip, the rosy texture of her skin, those ridiculously long eyelashes. “Do you live somewhere safe, angel?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers, trembling a little, but not out of fear. No, she is all but rubbing herself against my erection like a cat on a Persian rug.
“Who lives there with you?” I rasp, dying to grab her ass and yank her closer, but no. No, if I’m ten feet over the line now, that’s the point of no return.
“My roommate, Catherine. She’s interning at Veterans Affairs.”
“Okay.” Back off. Do it now. She works for you. The goddamn president. The abuse of power here is so obscene, I don’t even recognize myself. “You need to go now, Eloise.”
“Yes, sir.” Swallowing audibly, she disengages from my hold, both of us realizing at the same time that she must have dropped the clipboard without either of us noticing. She stoops down to retrieve it, looking up at me from her kneeling position on the floor, the blue carpet spread out around her, her face flushed from our contact…and she looks directly at my distended cock, pushing so urgently against my zipper. Her rapt and fascinated attention causes my balls to squeeze and I grind my molars together to keep from coming in my pants. Right there in the Oval Office. Inches from her face. Dear God. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she says quietly, rising and backing toward the exit.
I nod stiffly, knowing I’ll have to relieve myself in the bathroom as soon as she’s gone. Especially now that I’ve seen her from behind. Eloise Rogers has an ass that begs to be bent over my knee and swatted simply for existing. For being so firm and young. That skirt accentuates the tight curve of her cheeks, a demure split running up the center of her legs. I’d rip it straight up the middle with my bare hands if given half the chance, wouldn’t I?
No. It can’t happen.
Get yourself together, McAlister .
“Oh, and sir?” Eloise pauses in her retreat, standing about ten yards away in the silent office, framed pictures of past presidents lining the wall behind her.
“Yes, Eloise,” I say, struggling not to adjust myself.
She wets her lips. “I’ve been following your career since you were fresh from duty, wounded, but still finding the strength to community organize in Wyoming. You’re an inspiration, sir, and the reason I got into politics in the first place. You’re a man of honor and I truly believe you’re one of the few politicians who believe what they’re saying. That’s why I’m here.” My entire being seizes up as she saunters over to me, her shyness gone, replaced by passion for what she’s saying. “But every man needs a break from being good sometimes.” She reaches out and traces my belt buckle with her index finger, come beginning to leak from my pressurized tip into my briefs. “I can be here for that reason, too. This is a hard job with lots of frustrations and setbacks. You’re going to need somewhere…or someone…with whom you can let loose.”
The very top of her finger slides down, tracing the aching ridge of my cock, and it happens. I can’t fucking believe it.
I unload right there in my pants.
I grit my teeth and grip the desk behind me, grunting through wave after wave of intense pleasure rippling through my sex, my undercarriage, my belly, soaking my zipper while she continues that featherlight stroke, her breath shallow with excitement. I can’t remember a time in my life when I’ve come harder…or at a less opportune time. In a less appropriate place.
“You’ve been working so hard,” she leans in to whisper against my jaw. “Taking care of everyone and everything.” She cups me fully, gripping, urging another spurt into the damp material of my briefs while I half-gasp, half-groan. “Someone has to take care of you.”
I can do nothing but reel, attempting to make sense of what this angel has done to my body. How she commandeered it so quickly, so effectively, when I’ve never been capable of letting down my guard with anyone. Not without a concerted effort and letting myself go without sex for long periods of time, pushing myself to the edge of deprivation so I’ll have no choice but to release my pleasure with a person I don’t trust…because I’ve only ever trusted myself.