I trail into the Le Méridien behind Mateo and Poppy. This evening, she’s exquisite in a figure-hugging white dress. Demure upon first inspection, it’s cut high in the front, revealing nothing of her chest, but the back is low-cut, showing off every creamy inch. Her heels are a nude color and make her closer to my height. Long, blonde hair is curled, but she has it pulled off to one side and hanging over her right shoulder. Everything about her outfit screams sex. Too bad her personality screams dud.

Plastic smile.

Fake laughs.

Rigid back.

She plays the part so well. Politician in the making. I know because I am her. We do what has to be done to get where we want to be. She wants to be lieutenant governor. I want to be more.

She and Mateo stop to talk to the birthday boy, and I hang back, clasping my hands together behind my back and watching passing people with smiles and nods. Eventually, they all turn to regard me, and I stride over to them.

“Mike,” Poppy purrs, “meet my intern, Camden Pearson. You better watch him, he’ll take your job one day.”

They all laugh, and I stretch my lips into a smile. “Governor. Pleased to meet you.”

We shake hands and discuss some local policies he ran on. Poppy pipes up on some of the policies she’d like to help with if she gains the lieutenant governor position. They sound rehearsed, but everyone listens with rapt attention. Five bucks says all three of us are more focused on her pouty red lips than what’s coming out of them. She’s in her element, though, and not giving off any vibes that she’s uncomfortable. Her chin is lifted and she smiles frequently. Her blue eyes shine with focus and intensity, catching the eyes of everyone in this place. Passion looks good on her.

I watch every detail about her while not bringing attention to myself, picking up on her ticks and cues—cues I will use to my advantage—cues that will help me further my agenda when it comes to her. When she feels nervous about a topic, she starts to twist her hair, looking every bit as young as when she sat on my kitchen island attempting to figure out math problems. Beautiful. Sexy, but unsure. It’s distracting as fuck. I try not to focus on her sex appeal, and instead, turn my attention to her nervous ticks. When she’s feeling uneducated about a certain topic, she pretends. Always the motherfucking fake. She casts her eyes down during those moments, flutters her lashes in an innocent way, and changes the subject. They’re all immune to her abilities as she steers them back into familiar territory. But I see. I see all. And, as the night wears on, I catch her rubbing at her temples at points.

All that pretending gave poor little Poppy a headache.

When she excuses herself and slips away to the ladies’ room, I also take my leave, bored with Mateo and Mike discussing properties Uncle Trevor has for sale. I stride after Poppy and step into the women’s restroom. Casting my gaze around, I ensure we’re alone before pushing the lock into place and walking over to where she fumbles around in her clutch purse.

I reach into my pocket and hold out my palm. “Looking for these?”

She jerks her head my way, blinking in confusion. “What are you doing in here?”

“Saving your ass. Looks like I’ll need to get used to doing that if I’m to spend my free time assisting you.” I nod at the migraine pills in my hand. “Take these.”

All the hardness in her features melts away as relief flashes in her big blue eyes. Where my eyes are icy blue with steely hints of gray hidden within, hers are the color of the ocean waters she so desperately craves to wade in. Her fingertips graze against my palm, and she shivers. As if the sensation never happened—as if I created it in my mind—she turns back to the mirror and chokes the pills down dry, gagging.

I raise a brow before gesturing toward the sink, and she scrambles to turn on the water. Moving to stand beside her, I gather her silky tresses in my grip so they don’t get wet as she drinks from the faucet. When she finishes, she turns off the tap and our eyes collide in the mirror, my fingers still wrapped around her hair. It would be so easy to yank up her dress, tear her panties from her little ass, and bend her back over the sink. I’d show her what it feels like to well and truly get fucked.

“You can let go now,” she breathes, her lashes fluttering. She doesn’t want me to, though. Her eyes plead with mine, and she probably doesn’t even realize it.

“I don’t want to.” My lips quirk up on one side. Flirtatious. Playful. I will let go of her. I won’t fuck her. But she doesn’t need to know all my cards. “I really don’t want to.” When I step closer, pressing my cock against her back, she lets out a mewl.

“Camden…”

I press a soft kiss to her exposed neck before letting her hair go. She remains frozen as I adjust the locks back into their original position off to one side. She clutches the strand of pearls around her neck, another nervous move, and I stifle a smirk.

One day, I’ll give her a pearl necklace…

“Pearls,” I say lowly. “I imagined you as more of a sapphire girl.” Like her eyes. Like her motherfucking birthstone. Like the fun, chunky fake jewelry she wore as a college kid. Now, she’s a pearl-clutching bore.

“They were gifts,” she mutters, backing away from me. It’s cute how she thinks distancing herself in the small bathroom will keep me away.

I track her with my eyes, drawing the same effect as my touch without not needing to touch her to have the same effect. Her flesh is red, and I fucking love it. “From your fiancé?” I taunt.

Her plump lips press together. “And my father.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With a wink, I turn, unlocking the door, and she rushes into a stall just as I open it. A pretty brunette goes from being annoyed to batting her eyelashes in a matter of seconds.

“I think you’ve stepped into the wrong bathroom,” she says before biting on her bottom lip.

“My mistake,” I rumble. “Would you be a doll and show me to the right one?”

I offer my arm, she takes my elbow, and away we go.

* * *

“You’re home late,” Hayden grunts from the sofa, his girlfriend Katie sleeping with her head in his lap. He changes the station to the news and nods at the recliner beside him.

I shed my tuxedo jacket and yank off my bowtie before settling in the chair. Schmoozing with some of the biggest players in this city wasn’t difficult. That shit is second nature to me. Fucking with Poppy? Easy.

It was him.

Seeing him was fucking difficult.

“Everything okay?” my brother asks. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

I flash him an easy grin. “Just thinking about a girl.” Not a total lie.

Hayden snorts. “Better than a guy.”

If Nixon were here, he’d knock Hayden on his ass for that comment. It’s not like Hayden knows how much it bothers me, though. My mind drifts to my early teenage years.

Am I gay?

It’s a question that eats me alive each day. That man did those things to me. Did he see something I don’t?

I open my Tumblr app and look up gay porn. My dick doesn’t twitch. If anything, I start to sweat and get that creepy feeling that sometimes shudders down my spine as I remember him. It’s not that these people are grossing me out. It’s what he did. It’s how he made me feel. Bile rises in my throat as a familiar panic attack rears its ugly head. I breathe in and out, trying desperately to slow my racing heart. He didn’t give me a choice. He didn’t ask.

I quickly exit the search and go back to the stuff that does get my dick hard. Blonde-haired beauties with jiggly tits and smooth pussies. My cock rises, and I let out a breath of relief. I’m not gay. Nothing against them, but I prefer women.

“Dude,” Hayden says softly, jerking me from my memory. “I’m just kidding. You know I love you no matter what. Brock’s bi and we support that shit.”

I laugh, but it feels hollow. “I’m fine. Just tired. I’ve got an early morning. I’m going to head to bed.”

“Class or your new internship?”

Rising to my feet, I stretch and yawn. “I have to run in and turn in an assignment, but then I’ll be at the law firm.” With little perfect Poppy.

“I’m here to talk. If you ever need me,” Hayden says, his tone serious. “I’m not your dad, but I’m your big brother. I can help you if you’re ever in trouble or need to talk.”

I groan. “Are you about to start your period, man?”

He throws a couch pillow at me, but I dodge it. “Fuck off, kid,” he shoots back, smiling. Hayden is much happier these days. His girl has changed him for the better. When she finally moved into our loft, my brother began smiling more and lightening the fuck up. Katie is good for him.

Speaking of her…

It’s now or never.

“I’m moving out.”

Hayden’s smile falls. “What the fuck? Why?”

“Because it’s time, Hay.”

He eases her head out of his lap and stands before stalking my way to grip both my shoulders. “No.” Stubborn as fuck this brother of mine.

Gently, I push him away from me. “Yes. Then, you can have the alone time you two desperately need. To plan weddings and make babies and shit.”

“We’re not exactly making babies and shit. This condo is big enough for the three of us,” he says, practically fucking pouting.

Not making babies, but planning a wedding for sure. Or at least soon. I went with him to pick out the giant rock he plans to give her. It won’t be long. “I know,” I say with a sigh. “And I’ll be over here all the time to eat because we all know I can’t cook for shit. I just want my own place.”

He spears his fingers through his hair and scowls. “I don’t know…”

“It’s not your decision. You’re not my guardian anymore. I’m an adult and have my own money. I need to do this, okay?”

Reluctantly, he nods. “Fine, but I expect you over for dinner every weekend, asshole.”

“As long as I don’t have to watch you and Katie make out, it’s a deal.” I grin.

He grumbles, and I leave him to call my other brother. Dropping onto my bed, I dial Nixon. He picks up on the first ring.

“Yo,” he grunts.

“What’s up?”

“Just watching my girls sleep.”

“That’s creepy,” I utter.

He laughs. “One day, you’ll get it. It’s not fucking creepy, I know that much.”

“I’m moving out.”

“Do we need to make up the guest room?”

I shake my head. My brothers are more of a father than mine ever was. They make up for where he lacked. “Not with you, dick. On my own.”

“Tampa?”

“Yep. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I’m not ready to lose you to DC yet,” he says, chuckling. “Plus, a kid will need his uncle.”

“You know, I’m technically Erica’s brother.”

“But Erica’s baby brother is still your nephew.”

A pregnant pause fills the line.

“Wait…are you and Rowan expecting?”

He chuckles, sounding happy as fuck. “She wanted to wait to tell anyone until we knew the sex.”

“Congratulations, man,” I say, grinning. “Way to spread that Pearson seed everywhere.”

He snorts. “You just keep your seed to yourself for the time being. We don’t need you getting distracted, Mr. President.”

My thoughts drift to Poppy in her form-fitting dress and swollen red lips.

“I’m laser-focused on my goals,” I assure him.

And when I destroy them, I’ll get back on track with what I was born to do.

Take over the world.