Summertime Sweets, page 9
She leans forward and points to something on the paper in front of him, and he takes the opportunity to look down her shirt. I’m at his side in a second looking down exactly where he is. He jerks his head up and his cheeks flush at being caught.
“Time’s up,” I say and look over at Honor. “You have other obligations.” I want to call her sweet pea, but I bite my tongue before it comes out.
How much longer can I wait to claim what belongs to me? It’s barbaric and it’s probably going to get me a cell in Sing Sing, but I don’t care anymore. I’ve been trained to kill and to do it without getting caught. Right now I feel like putting all of that training to use on Chad. Fuck, even his name makes me want to punch him in the face.
“We’re almost finished here,” he says, like he doesn't see my face. Or know that I’m only seconds away from ending his life.
“I think I have what I need,” Honor chirps, and the dickhead doesn't know how lucky he is that my girl is saving his ass.
“You have my number if you have any more questions,” he says, turning his full attention on her ass as she turns around to grab her bag. “Or if you just want to talk.”
“She doesn’t want to talk.” I take her bag from her with one hand and wrap the other around her upper arm, leading her away from the boy who is trying to move in on what’s mine. I bring my watch to my mouth. “Freedom is on the move.”
I’ve got a microphone embedded into it, which feeds back to the entire security team. Good thing I set it to cut off when I was in her wing. I don’t need anyone knowing all the filthy things I said to her. Or what I’m going to do to her at midnight.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous,” she says right before she smiles brightly to a passing staff member. “Good afternoon.”
“Do you have to be so nice to everyone?” I say as I release her upper arm. I have to be so careful not to draw attention, but my control is running thin. Being so close to what is almost mine has it that way.
“Yes, I think it’s actually in the job description under ‘daughter of president.’” She wiggles her fingers in air quotes and winks at me.
Fuck, she’d be a lot less mouthy if she had my dick in it. Then my fantasies of her on her knees spiral out of control as we walk down the long hall to her next appointment of the day. She’s got more meetings than the Queen of fucking England.
“Thank you for coming,” Honor says as she greets a military family visiting the White House today.
The next hour is spent speaking with the family, and I keep an eye out for anyone trying to get too close. Or letting their eyes linger too long. Luckily the soldier keeps his head and is respectful, so I don’t have to pretend to kill someone else.
I glance down at my watch as the seconds tick by. It’s a countdown to what’s coming.
I’ve been with the first family for a long time, but that is coming to an end. Not only is the president’s term ending, but I’m going to quit. As soon as I’ve had Honor I’m turning in my resignation. I knew this day would come the moment I met her. Even when she was fifteen and I was too old for her, I began to calculate how much time I had. When I’ve made her mine in God’s eyes, she’ll be coming with me. I’ll take her wherever she wants to go, but she’ll be riding my dick the whole way.
The next meeting is in another room, and I shamefully watch her ass the entire way. She doesn’t move like a girl. She’s all woman and only hours away from proving it to me. My hands ache with the need to squeeze the flesh of her thighs and bury my face between her milky legs.
“And this is where the new children’s hospital wing will be,” someone says, shaking me from my thoughts. I just want to go back to my fantasy.
She’s surrounded by benefactors from the charity she works with and they’re discussing finances. She’s only seventeen. She has too much on her shoulders. People expect her to step into her father's shoes and pick up his legacy. But all I want to do is take her away from all of this and shield her from the world. She belongs in a place where she can grow how she wants to. Not as a potted plant where she has to go where they force her. I may want to lock her away in my bedroom, but I also want to give her the freedom to explore.
Funny that her code name is Freedom when she has anything but. The irony is not lost on me.
There’s chatter in my ear and my eyebrows draw together. I place my finger against my earpiece and concentrate.
“We can’t see where he exited,” someone in the control room says. “Someone check the southwest corner. I want two units on the outer door.”
“What’s happening?” I say, as I move closer to Honor.
“We lost sight of her advisor. He had an escort into the restroom, but he never came out. Agent Sanders just went in and he’s gone.”
“Lock it down,” I growl, moving right against Honor and squeezing her elbow. I lean in close and give her the emergency code she is trained to know. “White, Blue, and Red.” The last color I say is to indicate how dangerous a situation is. Red means for her to move her ass.
Her body tenses, but she remains cool as she tells the group of people that she’s been called into a closed-door meeting. They politely thank her, and she waves goodbye as I plaster myself to her side and exit the room.
“What’s happening? What’s going on? Talk to me, Washington.” She wraps her arm around my waist and I do the same.
I’ve got my body around hers in a protective hold as we move down the hallway and to the other wing of the White House.
“I don’t know, sweet pea,” I answer honestly as the team encircles us. “They can’t find Chad.”
“They called a code red because Chad is missing?” Her voice is bewildered and her feet slow. “Are you serious? He’s probably in the bathroom or something.”
“I’m not taking that chance.” My words are final, and though I see she wants to argue she keeps her mouth closed.
When we finally make it back to her wing, I have the team do a sweep of the rooms while I watch her and the door.
“I think you guys are probably making a big deal out of this. Just call him.” She plops down on the couch and crosses her arms.
“Honor, you should know by now that not everyone who appears to be safe is. And who knows who may have gotten to him. Some men will do anything for money.” Or for what she’s got between her legs. But I keep that part to myself.
She looks as if she’s thinking it over. She’s been targeted before but never in the White House. We do thorough background checks on everyone that we allow near Honor, but that doesn’t mean that situations can’t change. If Chad got himself into trouble and someone offered him a way out, he may have taken the bait.
“My job is to protect you,” I say as I kneel down in front of her. I want to take the worry out of her eyes. “And I’m really fucking good at my job.”
That earns me a smile and I feel like at least I’m doing something right.
There’s talking in my earpiece, so I stand up and step away so I can concentrate on what they’re saying.
“Kitchen staff reports they saw someone come through. We’re on it.”
“Keep me updated,” I answer, feeling frustrated. How is he escaping all of the cameras? I talk to the rest of the detail in the room. “Looks like we’ve got him spotted in the kitchen. He’s in the opposite wing of the White House right now. I want all of you patrolling until we’ve caught him. This should be quick, but everyone stay on alert.”
I wait for everyone to exit before I bolt the door.
“Are you not going to patrol?” she asks as she stands up from the couch.
“I’m not leaving you,” I say and take a step forward.
“I’m scared,” she admits, wringing her hands in front of her.
I’m pulling her into my arms in an instant. “I’m here. Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m with you.”
Her hands wrap around my back and I feel her trace her fingers down my spine. My own hands explore the curves of her shoulder and down to her waist. Then I find the bare strip of skin between her slacks and her top. It’s silk against my fingers and the knot in my stomach tightens with need.
“Only five more hours,” I whisper, and the intent is clear.
No matter what is happening around us, I won’t wait a second longer to take what’s mine.
Chapter 4
Honor
I watch Washington pace back and forth. Every now and then he stops and I know he’s listening to his earpiece. Than he mumbles something in response, but I can’t hear what he says. My head is still spinning after all that’s happened today, but one thing is for sure: he wants me. Really wants me.
I glance over at the clock. How am I going to make it until midnight? I know my mind should be somewhere else. I should be worried about the threat around us, but all my thoughts are focused on him. Although it’s pretty normal behavior because I’m usually daydreaming about him. But now my fantasies might become a reality. It changes everything.
I jump when my phone rings.
“It’s the president,” Washington says as he stops his pacing.
I feel my face heat as I glance down at it. Oh god. My dad. Does he know about me and Washington? What’s he going to say? My heart starts to pound in my chest.
“Answer the phone, sweet pea. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.” It’s as if he’s reading my mind.
Right. Of course that’s why he’s calling. I pick up the phone and I immediately hear my dad’s voice. “Honor,” he says, and I can hear the relief in his tone.
“Hey Dad.” I glance over at Washington, who’s staring right at me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s rushing around.
“I’m fine, Dad. Calm down. It’s nothing really,” I try to reassure him.
“I’m heading back to you. I’ll be there in—”
“No!” I snap out louder than I mean to. I really don’t want my dad to come back for totally selfish reasons. Whatever threat he’s worried about is under control, but my biggest concern is that he will come back before the clock strikes midnight. “I have Washington. I’m fine. I promise.”
“Honor…” he tries to go on, but I talk over him.
“I told you I shouldn't go to college. Look at the problems it’s causing already,” I joke. He laughs quietly then sighs. So I try another angle. “Stay with July. She needs you right now.”
When there’s a moment of silence I know I’ve won. “Fine, but if anything else happens, I don’t care how small, I’m coming back.”
“I love you,” I tell him, because I know he’s not looking for me to agree with him.
“I love you, too, sweetheart. Let me talk to Washington.”
“Bye, Dad.” I hold the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”
Washington clears the distance between us. His scent invades me and suddenly I’m soothed. Being near him always puts me at ease. He takes the phone from me and I glance to the clock.
“Mr. President,” Washington says. His voice is cool and controlled.
I sit down on the couch and Washington stands directly in front of me. My eyes go to his chest then trail down to his waist. The bulge of his cock is right in front of me, straining against the material of his slacks. I lick my lips, wanting to touch him so badly. I swear I can make out every inch, including the swell of the head. I remember feeling it pressed up against me and I rub my legs together at the reminder.
I reach out to touch him, but faster than I can process his movements, Washington has me by the wrist. His giant hand wraps all the way around it in a firm hold. I gasp at how fast he moved. He’s on the phone with my freaking dad! His dark green eyes are locked on mine and they’re stone cold. Shit. He looks pissed.
“I’ve got her, sir.” The muscles in his arm flex, and I can tell his body is wound tight with tension. “I won’t let her out of my sight.” He ends the call and places the phone in the table.
“You can’t touch me, Honor.” His voice is low and his face is serious. “I don’t think you understand how badly I want you and how fragile my control is when it comes to you.” He lets go of my wrist and steps back from me. He puts more distance between us than I care for.
I don’t like the cold way he’s speaking to me and it makes a knot form in my stomach. Before now I was sweet pea, but maybe he’s changed his mind. What if he’s trying to get the control back so he can push me away?
I stand up and walk towards my bedroom without saying a word to him. I open the door then close it softly behind me. It takes all my self-control not to slam it. I barely make it ten steps inside before the door is flying open and hitting the wall with a loud bang. I turn around and see Washington filling the space and looking even bigger than moments ago.
“I told your dad I’d keep my eyes on you at all times. That means the door stays open.”
“I was about to change,” I challenge, taking off my cardigan and letting it drop to the floor. Then I reach for the hem of my shirt and begin to pull it over my head. I hear a string of curses, and when I pull the shirt off I see he's gone. “Whatever,” I mumble. I go into my closet and dig around for something to wear. I settle on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. I find some knee socks and slip them on and up my legs. Then I pull my hair up into a messy knot on the top of my head and walk out of my room.
I’m not going to hide from him. Besides, even if I am irritated by his behavior at the moment I still want to be around Washington. Even if it’s only to watch him pace back and forth. Plus, I'm hungry, and the idea of making us both something to eat sounds good. No, it feels right. It’s so domestic and almost like we’re a couple playing house.
He stops his pacing when I walk in the room and he looks me up and down. His eyes roam over my body and he mumbles something to himself. I keep walking past him and go straight to the kitchen. I don't have to look at him to know he’s following me, but I can’t help myself. I peek over my shoulder to see his eyes trained on my ass, and I might just put a little more wiggle in each step.
“I’m hungry,” I say I enter the kitchen and open the refrigerator. “Do you want something?”
I make a show of bending over to dig around in the fully stocked refrigerator. It’s always loaded up. When he doesn't answer I look over my shoulder again at him. He’s standing there with his eyes still on my ass.
“Yeah. I have an itch for something juicy right about now.” His eyes move slowly up my body until they finally come up to meet mine. I turn back around to look into the refrigerator. The cool air cuts the heat rising in my body. What would be like for him to have his mouth on me? Would he spread me out on the kitchen counter for his own delight? How many times have I touched myself thinking about him kissing his way to my sex?
I suck in a deep breath and my nipples tighten. My panties are becoming sticky as the desire grows. I see steaks on the bottom shelf and take them out.
“Steaks it is,” I chirp a little too loudly. I watch Washington fight a smirk and I’m thankful his icy mood is melting.
His eyes move to my chest and he groans. “Fucking hell. This is worse than being waterboarded,” he says as he rubs his eyes.
I look down and see my hard nipples are pushing against the thin material of the shirt. I shrug because I don’t know what else to do. So instead I go to the pantry and take out some potatoes.
“Have you been waterboarded?” I ask, trying to get him to talk.
“Yeah.” He says it as casually as when he’d told me he was shot. I’m not sure what to say, but I want to cry.
“I don’t like the idea of you being hurt,” I admit.
Blinking fast, I try and fight the tears. He could have died. And if that happened then he would have never been mine. The thought tears me up inside and I try not to dwell on it.
“I’m fine, sweet pea. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere,” he reminds me. My body relaxes at his words. He’s right. He is here with me.
“Your life is so different than mine,” I tell him as I get to work on making our dinner.
“We both serve our country,” he says simply. “Just in different ways. I watched you today, working with that family. You knew exactly what to say and how to handle it. You’re as well trained as I am, but in a different way. You gave up your childhood and almost a decade of your life. That’s time you won’t get back. At least I chose what I wanted to do with my life. You didn't get to.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” His eyes soften. I never thought about it like that. It makes me feel that maybe I am doing my part to help.
I put the potatoes in the oven and start on the steaks. “Why don’t you want to go to college?” he asks.
“Maybe one day, just not now.” I shrug. Maybe not ever, if I’m being completely honest. But I don’t want to get into it with Washington like I do with my dad. I don’t want a lecture from him.
“Do you have a reason for not wanting to right now?” he pushes.
My reason is mainly him, but I’m too shy to tell him that. “It’s not what I want. That life.”
“What life do you want?”
“This.” I flip the steak over and then lean my hip on the counter. “A husband, kids, white picket fence, the American dream.” I try to read his face, but I can’t. I hate that he can wear that emotionless mask. “What do you want now that you’re getting out?”
“You.” He says it simply.
I remain silent, but he doesn’t say anything else. I grab some dishes and serve our dinner without saying another word. When I turn to reach for something, I run right into Washington. His finger goes under my chin, making me look up at him.
“You should be careful what you wish for.” I stare at him for a moment, then he moves away.
He takes our plates over to a small table in the kitchen my dad and I use a lot. We don’t like to sit at the large dining room table. It seems silly when it’s just the two of us. Before I can sit down, Washington pulls the chair out for me. It’s a simple act, but it’s really sweet. He sits with me, and his enormous body barely fits into the chair.
