Yippee!
Chris drops his hands. “Why doesheget to be Prophet, and I’m Pumpkin or Princess?”
John finally breaks down laughing, shaking his head. “Guys, sorry, I can’t. Yes, we’re just fucking with you, buddy. Your wife put us up to it, though, so blame her. You’re ‘Priest.’”
“Oh, jesusfuck, you assholes.” But Chris looks relieved and finally laughs with them. They all hug him, clapping him on the back and giving him congratulations.
Once the agents finish with us and step out of the room to do a complete survey of the headquarters building, Chris turns to me. “I’m going to kill those assholes.” But his wistful smile reveals the truth—he misses their camaraderie.
It’s obvious they miss him, too.
“Hey, like you said, any moment to laugh. Right?”
“True.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “Why Priest, I wonder?” he muses.
I snort again. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
I slowly shake my head, knowing my smile will earn me probably another five strokes, if I’m lucky. “Because you put her on her knees and make her say, ‘oh, God,’ on an almost daily basis.”
“Ohhhh.” He grins. “Clever girl.”
“Yeah, she can be.” Secretly, I’m pleased with my code name. I know normally I wouldn’t have protection, especially before the general election, unless there was a credible threat against me. Not until after the election, at least. But since Shae’s a senator, and the candidate,andI’ve been profiled as a “close family friend” of theirs—add my celebrity status,and my official job title with the campaign, and the volume of crazy hate mail I get—and they decided they wanted me to have coverage, too.
Which is moot, because, literally, I’ll always be with her or with him. I’ll be covered by default. No one says anything about me living with Chris and Shae. Sharing rooms in DC is common, considering the price of housing and the fluctuating populations.Unless someone’s rich, like Shae, they usually have to stay in the suburbs and fight a daily commute, or share digs with someone.
It’s not unusual for government wonks to keep futons or air mattresses in their offices to save them a daily drive, and to take showers in the fitness center.
It means I still won’t have to worry about a car in Washington, either. I’ll get a driver assigned to me,even for errands, which is fine. COS doesn’t really have a life of their own outside work. Not at first, during the transition and at least the first hundred days.
Best I get used to that now, because I honestly don’t think there’s any way she can lose.
Then again, it won’t exactly be a hardship spending my life with the two of them.
* * * *
After lunch, I’m ready to rejoin Shae. Chris ismeeting with Leo and our pollsters to go over some new data. A Secret Service detail escorts me to a service elevator in our building and whisks me downstairs to a waiting car to drive me to the studio where Shea will have her next interview. They gave her a small dressing room, and I’m let inside, the door closing behind me, just to find we’re alone.
“Prophet, hmm?” I ask as I pull her intomy arms.
She grins. “How’d he take the joke?”
I let my hands slide over her ass and give her a light swat they can’t hear through the door. “Expect sitting to be interesting tomorrow.”
She wiggles against me, hardening my cock. “Oh, goodie!”
Had you told me a couple of years ago I’d be here, right now, feeling this way aboutthiswoman?
I’d have told you to go take your meds.
Now?
I can’timagine any place I’d rather be, except in bed with the two of them.
“Why Prophet?” I ask.
Her gaze softens, the real Shea in the house for a moment—myShae. “Do you like it?”
