I tell her the short version of the story. By the time I finish, the shock has left her gaze, replaced by a reptiliangleam that always makes me hard. God, I love watching her in work mode.
“He could help me tailor the my message and figure out how to snag conservative heartland voters.”
I slowly nod. “He probably can. He’ll make a damn good chief of staff, too.”
“If he’d even want that. Might be better as press secretary.”
I shrug. That’s not where I want him, but she doesn’t need to know that right now.We’re still a long way from that point.
Still have to get her elected. And that is something I am positive he can do. Probably not this first time around, but give him a few years, and yeah. I think he could.
“How do you want to approach him?” she asks.
I close out the picture and folder and shut off my phone, tucking it back into the duffel bag. “Let’s give it a few days,” I suggest. “I bethe goes to his house in Florida. We should approach him once he’s there and has had time to…reflect.”
Now she arches an eyebrow at me.
“What?”
“His house in Florida?”
“Hey, I haven’t talked to him in twenty years. I didn’t say I haven’t researched the hell out of him during those years.”
She uses finger quotes. “‘Research.’ That’s a funny way to spell ‘stalking.’” She studies me, her expressionguarded. “What do you want in return?”
There’s always an ask. ThisisDC, after all. Even between us, in this thing we share, there’s always an ask, a quid pro quo.
That’s the only way it works. It’s not just a power exchange we have, it’s a trust exchange.
I focus on her. “Him. I want him. You want to run for president, you’ll need him. Give him to me, and I’ll guarantee you your campaignmanager.”
Shae chews on her lower lip for a moment. This is as close to true emotional vulnerability as she’s ever shown me. “What about me?” In the past, she’s told me she wouldn’t mind if I wanted to see others outside her, but that’s never been an issue for me. So I know she wouldn’t object on those grounds.
I shrug. “I don’t see why this has to change between us.” I mentally calculate things.“We just have to be careful with my job. If you’re going to run, then I’ll retire before the general election instead of after it, like I’d originally planned.”
“He’d be okay with…us?” she asks.
“He’llhaveto be okay with it. He won’t have achoice.” I lean in. “You and thatboyshare a fewneedsin common. Besides,girl, you said you always fantasized about being spit-roasted. We bring himin, that won’t be a problem anymore. Outside of work, he’ll have permission to play with you. And he’ll be spending a lot more time with you than I can, especially during the campaign. He can fuck you, I can fuck him, and we all get what we need.”
Another of those shivers washes over her, making her run her hands up and down her arms.
She’s hooked, I can tell. “He interviewed me Wednesday evening,down in Tampa,” she says. “It was a good back-and-forth. He’s quick, sharp. Knows his stuff. Can pivot fast and keep up.” Another of those slow, sneaky smiles curls her lips. “He’s cute, too.”
“Cute?” I snort. “He’s fucking gorgeous and you damn well know it.” I sit back and sip my coffee. “You should see his O-face.” I smile. I know he interviewed her, because yesterday morning, while I wason the plane ride back to the States, I watched it and the interview he did earlier that same day with Governor-elect Susa Evans.
She leans forward, playing with her coffee cup for a moment before meeting my gaze. “Only problem with running for president is that I’m going to need a husband before the general, and preferably before most of the primaries are held. Ideally before the DNC. I’ll almostbe forty-eight. Hard to convince a lot of the far-right to vote for me if they think I’m gay. Because, ofcourse, if a woman is single at my age, and she’s not divorced or widowed, and she’s never been married, shehasto be gay.” She rolls her eyes.
I smirk. “You proposing to me, Senator?”
Her gaze drops to her coffee again. “Maaaaybe.” She eyes me. “You’d be bored with retirement, anyway.You know you would. It’s a chance to see what it’s like to actually live in the White House instead of working there.”
“True.” I reach over and trail a finger down her arm. “Not jealous, are you?”
“Why?”
“That I want Kev.” Regardless, Kev is mine. He’s at rock-bottom, and I won’t waste time being coy to get him back in my bed.
I just need Shae to want him so I can get him.
