Reagan presses her breasts against my chest and rubs her thigh against my dick as she moans. My dick hardens, even though I know she’s playing a game, I can’t stop my reaction. Three weeks away from Reagan was almost unbearable, and just when I was about to hit my breaking point, I came home.
She whimpers as my mouth leaves her and drifts to her throat, licking the softness where her rapid pulse beats underneath. I release her hands, setting my palms on her hips and tightening my hold. Hunger builds inside me, gnawing at my insides as everything around us seems to disappear. I’m consumed with my wife…with the feel of her body, the smell of her skin, her ragged breathing as I grind my cock against her.
I think the issue’s dropped because she’s just as lost in the moment as I am. Her hands roam my body, groping my ass roughly through my pants. “What are you hiding?” she says with her head tipped back right as I’m about to lick the top of her breasts.
I pull back, moving my mouth away from her skin, and peer down at Reagan. “You have five minutes to ask me questions, and then we’re done talking about my trip.” I growl the words as the anger that had started to dissipate returns full force.
She licks her lips, and the corner of her mouth turns upward. “Okay, well…”
I close my eyes, holding back a growl because she always does this shit to me. “Time’s tickin’.”
“Who did you meet with yesterday? It wasn’t on your itinerary, and I couldn’t reach you when I called.”
“That’s what this is all about?” I raise an eyebrow, still stalling because she’s asking about the one person I don’t want to discuss with her.
“Yes.” She raises her chin.
I rub the tension out of the back of my neck, and my raging hard-on disappears because the battle hasn’t even begun. I know as soon as I say his name, she’s going to go from agitated to pissed off in a heartbeat. There’s no reason to keep stalling. Reagan will find out one way or another once my campaign donors become public. Dragging things out will only make the end result that much worse. “I met with Dominic Marino,” I say, ripping off the Band-Aid quickly and readying myself for the blowback.
She’s quiet for a moment. Her eyes widen as she stares at me, nostrils flaring as her breathing speeds up when the name I just spat soaks in. “You didn’t,” she whispers before stepping away from me and shaking her head. “Of all the dumb shit you’ve done…”
My head jerks back at her words. “Dumb shit?” I rarely do dumb shit. Maybe when I was younger and didn’t have so much at stake, I’d dip my toe across the line, looking for trouble. I’m not that guy anymore. As a United States Senator, I can’t risk my entire career or my name on dumb shit, as my lovely wife likes to call my actions.
“He’s the one person I told you to steer clear of, Jude. What the fuck were you thinking?”
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest as she starts to pace like a caged animal. Keeping my mouth shut, I watch as her arms flail about and she mutters to herself something about me being a fucking idiot, but I let her words slide.
She spins around on her heels, straightening her arms at her sides. “Say something,” she grinds out with her jaw clenched so tightly only her lips move.
I stay still, careful not to make any sudden movements because the wild look in her eyes hasn’t disappeared. “I didn’t schedule the dinner, but I had to at least make an appearance.”
“You should’ve declined. How many times did I tell you…”
I lift my hand, stopping her from continuing that sentence because there are a few things we need to get straight. “First, I’m your husband, not your employee.”
She blinks rapidly, and her eyes widen even more, but I start talking before she can.
“Although I love your input, I do not and will not do as I’m told when it comes to my career.” I shake my head as she opens her mouth. “I let you say your piece about Mr. Marino, but beyond that, it’s my call on whether or not I allow him to contribute to my campaign. When I’m home, I’m home. I don’t want our life to become about work or the campaign. Can you understand all I wanted to do was spend time with my wife and feel like a normal person again?”
Somehow. I remain calm, not raising my voice for a single word even though I’m so aggravated with my wife and her constant meddling in my career. She treats me like a child, pulling out her daddy card and always explaining to me as if I don’t understand how the seedy part of Chicago politics works.
Reagan drops her head and lets out a shaky breath. “I do understand, Jude.” She pauses, and I’m hopeful for a moment that the conversation is over. But again, I’m wrong. She raises her head, lifting her chin high, and crosses her arms to match my posture. “But sometimes you need to remember while you were out fighting in a war, I was sitting in my father’s office listening to him cut deals with mobsters.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.” I run my fingers through my hair and try to keep my voice even. The last thing I want to do is ruin the rest of the time I have left before I have to go back on the road again. “I’ve been in politics long enough to know that if I take his money, I’ll owe him a favor.”
“You can’t,” she says and takes a step toward me, completely ignoring everything I just said.
I push off the counter and turn my back to her. I can’t fight with her anymore about this. I can’t jeopardize the entire weekend over something as silly as a single meeting. “I’m done talking about this, Reagan.”
“Where are you going?” she asks as I grab my keys from the hook near the door.
“Out,” I grunt with my back to her and my hand on the doorknob.
“Wait!”
I hear her footsteps on the tile as the bottom of my shoes touch the landing, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
