Chapter Twelve
I rose early, feeling the pulsing headache emanating through my forehead. I brought my legs over to the side, leaning my head into my hands. Every limb throughout my naked body seemed to quake. What the hell had happened last night?
I stood, feeling my nakedness reveal itself to the sunlit room. The open window presented a chorus of birds’ songs that lifted my spirits so readily, making me jump to the coffee machine and begin the brew. I couldn’t believe the previous night had happened. I stood naked in the kitchen, doing a slight dance for myself, my eyes closed.
I took a quick shower and dressed for work, seeing myself in a whole new light. I knew that the president understood the secrecy of the previous night, and for some reason, I wasn’t worried. This was always going to happen. There was something in us that couldn’t resist each other. Why should we fight it?
I took a taxi to work, like normal, and found myself in a sea of phone calls, of flying papers. I smiled to myself, loving the chaos once more. I reminded myself that this was all for the man of my dreams: that each day of my life, I worked to propel his life forward. And in turn, he propelled me forward, as well. We were the perfect political team. Except, of course, that we were completely off the record.
I was sure it had happened before.
I was sitting at my desk, rifling through various memos, when I received the call. I grabbed the phone and sighed into it, knowing that even he couldn’t make me feel strange this day. “Hello, Jason.” I waited for my second-in-command to speak.
His voice was strained. “Listen, Amanda. I need you to come into my office.”
I grew a bit haughty in these moments, admittedly. “I’m sorry, Jason. That will have to wait. I have a phone meeting with Atlanta in 20 minutes.”
But Jason was persistent. “No, Amanda. This is very urgent. I need you to reschedule all of your phone calls for the day. Get in here. Now.”
I raised my eyebrow, growing angry. I was first-in-command; he was second. A solid second. But something in his voice forced me to agree. I gathered a few of my papers, wondering what had gone wrong. Perhaps some rating in Texas or Alaska had fallen. Something was always happening somewhere. We couldn’t control a group of people bigger than 25.
As I walked to Jason’s office, my mind dwelled on a million other Xavier-related things. The touch of his hand on my spine; the way his tongue had felt on my pussy, on my nipples. I bit my lip as I walked, feeling so horny, even there at the office. I wondered if I could just sweep off to his Oval Office, only for a moment—
I opened Jason’s office, and he stood up, his eyes brimming with anger.
“What is it?” I asked him, raising my eyebrow once more. I realized, in that moment, that I really didn’t like Jason. He’d asked me out, and he hadn’t taken my refusal well. He was a sore loser as both a potential partner and a second-in-command. “Make it quick. I still didn’t cancel those phone interviews.”
Jason stepped forward. “I have a few questions for you, Amanda.”
His voice was so harsh, forcing me into a seat in front of his desk. I’d never sat there before; in fact, I’d never been to his office before. I’d always assumed it was below my pay grade. One of those Big Mouth Bass singing fish sat on his desk with a big sign that said, ‘HIT ME’ on it.
“I’m sorry? You have questions for me? Because I think the only questions we need to ask are to the voters,” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest. His aggressiveness was outrageous.
Jason reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and leafed out a manila envelope. He tapped the edge of it against his lip. “What the hell is this about?” he asked. His voice was coy, almost excited.
I was tired of playing his game. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, obviously,” I said, smacking my hand on my lap. “You won’t give me a single hint. Is it—I don’t know. Ratings from the week?”
He shook his head, his eyes glowing. “Guess again.” His voice was brimming with laughter.
I shrugged once more. “Fuck. I don’t know. A picture of your new laser hair chest removal?” I hated that the words came out of my mouth, but there they were. I watched him flinch, but only for a moment. Why didn’t this bother him more?
“All right. Give me the envelope,” I stated, swinging my hand over the desk. I twitted my fingers a bit. “I’m tired of playing your game.”
“Oh, no. I’m certain the entire federal government will be tired of playing your game in time,” Jason said, his eyes dark. “How’d you do it, Amanda? You sleep with the head boss? With everyone’s fucking boss?”
I flung my body over the desk now, growing so hot and angry. All thoughts of my supreme happiness from the previous evening had fallen to the ground, and I now sat in a pit of rage. I grasped the envelope out of his hand and I brought it toward my chest, huffing. My nose flared. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Look at the goddamned pictures,” Jason said haughtily. He wrapped his hand around his throat, feeling at a red rash that was growing. Nerves, I thought.
I opened the envelope, noticing that my hands were shaking. I hated that I was shaking in his presence. I cleared my throat and I removed the pictures, one by one.
In my lap sat three photos. All of them were of Xavier and I, making love throughout my apartment.
My heart sank. I felt the tears forming in my eyes—tears of shock, tears of anger. I couldn’t believe this was happening. One featured him behind me as I was positioned on all fours, on the table. A look of supreme pleasure rested on my face, and my breasts were open, so wide to the camera. In another, we were featured on the couch, my legs up around his neck and his dick thrust deep inside of me. His mouth was open in fits of pleasure. In another, I was straddling him, placing his dick in my mouth.
I brought my earnest, angry face toward Jason. “Who gave these to you?” I rasped. I felt my heart beating so fast in my chest. “Where the fuck did these come from?”