I'm sitting behind my desk in the oval office with my fingers laced behind my head, but I might as well still be sitting in the cool leather seat of my limo with Ashley nuzzled by my side.

It's like a scene playing on a continual loop in my mind. A scene I can't pause or shut off.

Her words, her smell, and her gestures—everything—it all haunts me.

If I'm being honest, the fact that Ashley's still a virgin excites me, like uncharted territory just begging to be conquered. I'm a competitive person, and now I'm determined to be her first.

It's amazing, given her line of work—the amount of men she comes in contact with. Don't you think?

She's smoking hot, head to toe. Her tits are some of the most perfect pair of breasts I've ever seen … and I've seen, held, licked, and sucked on a lot of tits.

How she's managed to stay a virgin is beyond all comprehension. I can't even wrap my head around it, as hard as I try to.

Now I'm trying to focus on today's meeting, but that's proving difficult.

"Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?" Tracy asks me, and I snap back to reality.

"Good, I guess," I say, although I'm not really sure that it matters at the end of the day.

"The good news is that the press has dropped the 'President Player' angle," she replies. "They love Ashley. That's definitely a good thing."

I sigh and think to myself, of course they do. What's not to love?

"But that's the only good news I'm afraid," Tracy says, looking at me with a serious gaze. When I see that gaze, I know she means business.

"And the bad news?" I ask, bracing myself for whatever Tracy is going to throw my way. At this point, I figure it must be pretty bad.

"The bad news is Bob Walker, as usual," she says, "he's trying to block you at every turn."

"No surprise," I reply, shaking my head. If that's the worst thing she tells me today, I can live with that. That guy has always been a bastard, and a thorn in my side. "What's he doing now?" I ask, although I hardly care.

"He's trying to lobby the opposition to your new jobs bill," she says.

I scoff at her comment. "Walker doesn't have the numbers. He's just blowing a bunch of hot air, and I'm not buying it."

I pause for a second. “Besides, what kind of politician doesn’t like jobs? Give me a fucking break.”

Tracy shrugs and gives me a look.

I know that look. The truth of the matter is that politicians can now say whatever they please and then do what they please once in office. The public’ forgetfulness is something that good politician cultivate.

"I don't know, Austin," Tracy says. "I'm worried that Walker can sway just enough votes. He's owed a lot of favors. I've crunched the numbers myself."

No fucking way. Not on my watch, I think to myself.

"I'm not having it," I say, pointing a finger at no one in particular. I'm just trying to get my point across. Suddenly, I'm feeling fired up. "Walker's not getting away with this."

"What do you think we should do?" Tracy asks, her eyes skeptical and hopeful at the same time.

"I intend to make Walker look like an ass," I reply. "So here's what I need you to do."

I watch as Tracy pulls up a task app on her cell phone. I swear, she's one of the most organized people I know.

I continue, "Plan a Town Hall in Walker's home state."

"Why in his home state?" Tracy asks.

"Because I'm going to pitch the damn jobs bill directly to Walker's fucking constituency," I reply.

"You do realize that Walker's going to go ballistic," Tracy says. Her hands are on her hips, and I know she's trying to think this through from every angle.

"I'm not even remotely worried about Walker," I say, waving one hand in the air, trying to give off a casual air. "In fact, I want Ashley to accompany me."

Everyone nods in agreement, and we wrap up. The meeting ends, and each of the staff members go about their daily duties at various end of the White House.

But I ask Tracy to stay behind.

And now that we're alone, I speak to her frankly.

"I want Ashley to move into the White House," I say.

Tracy looks at me wide-eyed, and her lower jaw seems to nearly drop to the floor. "I don't know," she replies, but I can tell that's an understatement. She's thinking I've lost my fucking mind.

"You don't know what?" I ask.

"Austin, I just don't think it's a good idea. I mean having her move in is pushing it a bit, don't you think?"

"Why?" I ask. "She's my fiancée isn't she?"

"Fake fiancée," Tracy clarifies.

"Of course I know that," I say, almost embarrassed at the slip. "I just meant that to the public, she's my fiancée. Wouldn't it seem more real—the relationship I mean—if Ashley moved in?"

I can still see the disbelief in Tracy's eyes.

"Is this for the public," she asks, "or for you?"

"Oh come on!" I say, trying not to feel irritated. "Think about it. If she moves in, we won't have to assign a Secret Service detail to her."

Tracy glares at me, trying to decide whether or not this is a good idea.

"She can sleep in a separate wing," I say, trying to win Tracy over. "And we'll be saving taxpayers' money."

That idea seems to win her over because now Tracy is nodding in agreement.

"That does make a lot of sense," she says.

"Of course it does!" I reply. "And I don't want to give the opposition any ammunition to use against me."

"Okay, okay," she replies, raising a hand as if she's heard enough. "I see your point."

"That's the spirit," I smile, grinning from ear to ear and patting her on the shoulder. "I told you it was a good idea. And besides, those are the only kinds of ideas I have."

I'd say that's going a little too far, Mr. Cocky," she laughs. "But I'll give this one to you."

Just as I'm about to leave the office, I turn to Tracy and say, "I'll handle Ashley."

Tracy just grins.

"Sure you will."