Mr. President
Page 36“Me? It’s you they love.”
He chuckles, slowly shaking his head. “If that’s true, then you’ve won them over just as much; otherwise why would they ask me to kiss a girl if it’s not someone they’d want to see me with?” He smiles and leans back, eyeing me. “See, kids aren’t affected by norms and rules. They just see what is and know exactly how they’d like it to be.”
“It made me laugh that you indulged the kids but not the nosy reporters.”
“They threw it as bait, I’m not giving them that. At least, not willingly.” He looks at me then, and the understanding of the risks weighs down the silence between us.
Wilson pulls into a smaller hotel just a few blocks away from ours.
It’s more low-key, not exactly one-star but not five, either. A place where Matt wouldn’t be expected to stay.
“I’m right behind you. Power off your phone,” Matt instructs.
I’m so nervous that I’m chewing on my lower lip as I take the room key Matt gives me before I open the car door.
“Don’t play too hard with that lip—that’s for me to do later.”
I pause.
Release my lip.
Watch his lips curve into a slow, satisfied smile.
And I smile back.
Then I quickly turn off my phone, exhale, tuck the key into my side pocket, and head to the elevators.
This is so reckless. So reckless, but the prospect of his touch is too thrilling.
A woman in a red sweater boards the elevator with me.
I keep my head down, busily staring at my Mary Janes. My pulse throbs with adrenaline, anticipation, and fear. Down the hall, I slide the key into the slot and enter the room.
Spacious, simple, modern, and elegant.
I hurry to the bathroom, shake my hair loose, pinch my cheeks, and then head outside, pacing.
I wait for minutes, until . . .
The door opens.
His tall form fills the doorway. Still dressed in black—except for a cap on his head.
The only guy I’ve ever wanted.
He steps in and shuts the door with one elbow.
I exhale. “Did anyone see you?” I ask.
He takes off the New York cap. “No.”
“I was sure to keep my head down, I—”
Large and agile and gorgeous, he crosses the room, takes my hand, lifts it to his mouth, and skims a kiss over the back of my fingers.
I watch, transfixed, when he starts to suck the tips ever so exquisitely in his warm mouth. His gaze is like a missile of heat aiming straight for the hot spot between my legs as he licks me. Watching me with heated eyes as he nibbles and sucks carefully on each one. I groan softly.
He releases my hand, his warm fingers curving around my hip. I feel his nose at the top of my head, against my scalp.
The stroke of one hand on my hair, from the top of my head to my back.
I’m so undone, a shudder wracks me. Making him tighten his hold more.
I know I shouldn’t want these things.
He won’t be the kind of man to kiss me goodnight every night. He might have so much that it’d even be understandable if he forgot your birthday. He’s not the guy you can have your happy life with; he’s the guy women throw themselves at, he’s the guy who wants more than what you can give and he will always restlessly pursue it.
I know all this, but I cannot stop from moving closer and feeling his heartbeat through the cotton of his shirt.
We’ve been working tirelessly for months.
He feels too good right now.
And it feels too good to feel his eyes quietly caress me as his hands slowly stroke my hair and he tells me, “Have you thought about this?”
I nod.
He grabs the back of my neck and holds me still and kisses me.
The next few minutes, I’m trembling under his kisses and caresses. His hand running from the top of my head down to my feet as he removes my shoes. I feel protected, cherished …
What we’re doing is risky, but how can it be wrong when it feels so right?
Matt eases back and cups my face, and he looks so hot right now, I could be staring at the sun. He’s staring at me as if I dazzle him too, and the smile on his lips softens a little as his eyes start pulsing like a living, breathing thing. We’re both high from the adrenaline, the forbiddenness of finally, finally giving in to this attraction between us.
He scoops me up by the hips and lifts me in the air, just a few inches, so that my lips are exactly where he wants them.
And he takes them. Hard.
His lips forcing mine apart, his tongue plunging, his head angled for the best, most instant access.
It feels as if every day since I joined his campaign, I’ve been waiting for this. To feel Matt’s hands around me, holding me to his hard chest. Engulfing me in his strong embrace.
All my resistance vanishes as his tongue strokes mine, and I suck and lick and rub his tongue back in a whirl of heat and passion and recklessness. I tighten my arms around his neck, and he makes a low sound from deep in his chest, as if he approves of my wild kiss.
He’s breathing fast, but I’m breathing faster. He sets me on my feet, and his hand covers my cheek and his fingers stroke along my temples. “I’ve been trying to do the right thing. I fucking can’t,” he says.
“Don’t.”
I turn my lips to nip at the heel of his palm. He releases a sound I’d never heard him make before, like a growl that contains one word inside it: Charlotte.
His lips smash down on mine.
We kiss madly for about thirty seconds, then pull free to study each other.
I look into his face, and he stares down at me, still the guy I craved when I was younger, but now so much hotter, and more unattainable than ever.
Nothing matters, it doesn’t matter.
All I know is I want him. My body is so on fire I could splinter any second.
I take his hand and put it on my shirt and drag it lower, lower, beneath the fabric of my blouse, then upward, pressing it to my breast—over my bra.
Matt rewards me with a slow, languorous, sensual smile as he cups me fully in his warm grasp.
He leans in and kisses me slowly this time, stroking his thumb over my nipple. I let his hand remain on my breast, thrilled when he flicks open a button with his free hand and steals it under my shirt. Now both my breasts are getting fondled.