I tear the lid off of the container and the aroma of herbs and tomato sauce fills my office.
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” she says apologetically. “I’m not too great in the kitchen but I can manage the basics.”
I stab my fork into a meatball and stick the whole thing in my mouth. “Tastes really good,” I say on the heels of a groan.
She drops into the chair across from me, pulling her bowl into her lap. “So, how was your weekend?” she says casually. “…I missed you.”
I think my heart stopped, just hearing her say that. To think that I crossed her mind over the weekend. While she was out with the Pretty Boy Politician, she was thinking about me, the beast.
I clear my throat. “It was fine.”
She looks at me, probably waiting for me to elaborate. But there’s no way I’m admitting that I spent the weekend drinking and popping sleeping pills until I fell into a nightmare-riddled sleep only to wake up after a few torturous minutes and jerk off to the faint scent of her skin still lingering on my sheets.
So, instead I say. “Tell me about your weekend. What did you do with Pretty Boy Politician?”
She crinkles her nose at me. “Pretty Boy Politician?”
I smirk at her but don’t apologize.
She rolls her eyes before she proceeds to give me a rundown of the weekend. Brunch at the country club. A picnic at some park. A play at the theatre. My insides twist with jealousy.
Then she laughs nervously, her brow frowning with worry as if she’s anxious to see my reaction. “And would you believe that he asked me to marry him?”
My hand twitches and the meatball falls off of my fork onto my blue tie and down into my lap.
“Shit! Liam!” She jumps out of her chair and rounds my desk with a sheet of paper towel in hand. “He was only joking,” she says defensively as she snatches the water bottle on my desk and dampens the towel.
She’s in my space, blotting away at the tomato sauce on the soiled fabric. She seems oblivious to the effect that she’s having on me. She continues to fuss over the stain and all the blood in my body rushes to my center. My dick is getting hard as concrete. It takes everything in me to keep from grabbing her by the waist, pulling her into my lap and kissing her so hard that she’ll never ever think of that asshole again.
And just then, as if on fucking cue, there’s a quick tap at my office door before it swings wide open. Both of us snap our attention in the direction of the door and are met by a wide-eyed Senator Fucking Chester Davidson.
“Ch-Chess,” Jasmine stutters, dropping the paper towel into my lap and jumping back as if she’s just been electrocuted.
“Jasmine.” His gaze volleys from Jasmine to me and back again. After standing frozen for a moment, she launches into action, making introductions. “Chess – this is Liam Cartwright, managing partner of the firm.” Her eyes come to me. “Liam – um, Mr. Cartwright – this is Chester Davidson, the next president of the United States.”
The asshole gives her a wink before stepping forward and extending his hand to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liam.” I ease out of my chair at an angle to hide the hard-on struggling to burst the seams of my pants. Without a word, I give him a firm, quick shake then pull away.
For someone running for president, he sure has a lot of free time on his hands , I think exceedingly annoyed.
Jasmine’s attention is focused on Chester – who the fuck calls their kid ‘Chester’, by the way? “What are you doing here?” she asks still somewhat breathless.
“I’m on my way to the airport. Back on the campaign trail today. The secretaries in the hallway told me you were in here. Just wanted to say goodbye.”
She smiles at him. “Aww. It was really nice of you to drop by,” she says sweetly. “Have a safe trip.”
He braces her by the shoulders and an
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” she says apologetically. “I’m not too great in the kitchen but I can manage the basics.”
I stab my fork into a meatball and stick the whole thing in my mouth. “Tastes really good,” I say on the heels of a groan.
She drops into the chair across from me, pulling her bowl into her lap. “So, how was your weekend?” she says casually. “…I missed you.”
I think my heart stopped, just hearing her say that. To think that I crossed her mind over the weekend. While she was out with the Pretty Boy Politician, she was thinking about me, the beast.
I clear my throat. “It was fine.”
She looks at me, probably waiting for me to elaborate. But there’s no way I’m admitting that I spent the weekend drinking and popping sleeping pills until I fell into a nightmare-riddled sleep only to wake up after a few torturous minutes and jerk off to the faint scent of her skin still lingering on my sheets.
So, instead I say. “Tell me about your weekend. What did you do with Pretty Boy Politician?”
She crinkles her nose at me. “Pretty Boy Politician?”
I smirk at her but don’t apologize.
She rolls her eyes before she proceeds to give me a rundown of the weekend. Brunch at the country club. A picnic at some park. A play at the theatre. My insides twist with jealousy.
Then she laughs nervously, her brow frowning with worry as if she’s anxious to see my reaction. “And would you believe that he asked me to marry him?”
My hand twitches and the meatball falls off of my fork onto my blue tie and down into my lap.
“Shit! Liam!” She jumps out of her chair and rounds my desk with a sheet of paper towel in hand. “He was only joking,” she says defensively as she snatches the water bottle on my desk and dampens the towel.
She’s in my space, blotting away at the tomato sauce on the soiled fabric. She seems oblivious to the effect that she’s having on me. She continues to fuss over the stain and all the blood in my body rushes to my center. My dick is getting hard as concrete. It takes everything in me to keep from grabbing her by the waist, pulling her into my lap and kissing her so hard that she’ll never ever think of that asshole again.
And just then, as if on fucking cue, there’s a quick tap at my office door before it swings wide open. Both of us snap our attention in the direction of the door and are met by a wide-eyed Senator Fucking Chester Davidson.
“Ch-Chess,” Jasmine stutters, dropping the paper towel into my lap and jumping back as if she’s just been electrocuted.
“Jasmine.” His gaze volleys from Jasmine to me and back again. After standing frozen for a moment, she launches into action, making introductions. “Chess – this is Liam Cartwright, managing partner of the firm.” Her eyes come to me. “Liam – um, Mr. Cartwright – this is Chester Davidson, the next president of the United States.”
The asshole gives her a wink before stepping forward and extending his hand to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liam.” I ease out of my chair at an angle to hide the hard-on struggling to burst the seams of my pants. Without a word, I give him a firm, quick shake then pull away.
For someone running for president, he sure has a lot of free time on his hands , I think exceedingly annoyed.
Jasmine’s attention is focused on Chester – who the fuck calls their kid ‘Chester’, by the way? “What are you doing here?” she asks still somewhat breathless.
“I’m on my way to the airport. Back on the campaign trail today. The secretaries in the hallway told me you were in here. Just wanted to say goodbye.”
She smiles at him. “Aww. It was really nice of you to drop by,” she says sweetly. “Have a safe trip.”
He braces her by the shoulders and an
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