“Those weren’t compliments. I deal in facts, Bell. We’re not stupid men.”
He flushed a darling shade of rose and glanced toward the door. Oh, had I gotten to him already? “In the plaza. I thought we had a moment—”
My laugh had him snapping his mouth shut again. “No, you let me know something about you, namely that you’re a fuck toy, and I decided I might want to partake. That’s the world, there are givers and takers. I’m a taker. We clear?”
He recoiled slightly, and I held in a laugh, though I was still impressed by his poker face. “Crystal. Uh… what can I do?” He glanced at the ceiling for a second, as if he might find some answers written up there. “I’m always top of my class.”
“Pass. Boring. So is everyone. Need something useful.”
He huffed out the smallest breath, but his control was like steel. Not often did I meet people so hard to shake, especially not someone new and green like he should be. How had he learned to be this way? What experiences had jaded this little plum? Curiosity wiggled through me, but I knew better than to show it.
“I’m good at getting things done,” he said, giving his words a smarmy edge I could appreciate on general principal. We were in politics, after all. Every team needs a Watergate Squad.
“Oh yeah? What kinds of things.”
He waggled his eyebrows and slapped his hand over his mouth. “Anything,” he mumbled and then let his hand drop to his side.
“My moral compass has been missing for years.” I stepped forward and kept going until I got into his space. Bell was so short he had to look up at me, and a sharp thrill careened through my chest. I loved men who were smaller than me, especially toffee-sweet ones I could put on their belly and fuck full of cum. He seemed like a nice combination of feisty and giving. His eyes widened a smidge, and there was a warmth in his gaze that had my groin tightening and my dick plumping, even though I’d only meant the power move as part of laying the trap of our mental chess game. “I do my own dirty work.”
“I believe you,” he said, but this time his words edged toward a squeak. He cleared his throat and furrowed his brows, which was fucking adorable.
“You have nice hips.”
“Excuse me?” He flushed and looked away to stare at the thick gray carpeting on the floor. I nudged the tip of his shoe with mine and he pulled it back. “I work out, but it’s my bone structure. I had a… thing about it when I was a teenager.” He sent me a long look, and I could tell maybe there was a story there, but he wasn’t about to share. “Most people tell me it’s not noticeable when I ask about it.”
“Oh, it is.” His pale skin tinged nearly red as I held his gaze. “A lot of men are so… flat. Lifeless. But you have—” I shaped my hands in the air.
“I thought the thing I could do to be your intern couldn’t be sex,” he said, a bite in his reminder.
“Eh, it probably shouldn’t be.” I laughed, but he didn’t seem amused. “So are you useless, then? That’s disappointing.”
His nostrils flared, and I thought maybe that was real anger hardening his jaw. “Far from it.”
“I’m waiting. Dazzle me.” I gave him the smirk that had gotten me yelled at a time or two during press conferences.
He glanced down to stare at my tie pin and his shoulders stiffened. “I can figure out how to do anything you want. I know how to change oil, rotate tires, run dry-cleaning equipment, mix drinks, mow grass, replace windshields, format Excel sheets. I have a list of local printers. I know all the union heads. I know when all the school board meetings are. I’ve memorized nearly every street in New Gothenburg.”
“Hell of a resumé you’ve got there.”
The blush in his cheeks finally died away and he lifted his chin to glare. “My parents took me with them to work when I was little, and they werealwaysworking. Had an upside-down mortgage they should never have taken. Our house was always falling apart and never getting paid off.” He bared his teeth in a wince after he said that, like maybe his mouth had run away with him.
“American dream.” I nodded.
He shook his head. “American nightmare.”
“Yet, you’re into politics and not driving an Uber?”
He narrowed his eyes but pasted on a bland smile. “I’m into a career that will let me make changes and let me make a killing.” He snapped his mouth shut and his eyebrows flew toward his hairline. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say that last part.
Finally I relaxed. I knew this kid, not personally, but I related. It had been a while since I’d felt like I was in… maybe not good company, but safe company, and by that I thought maybe Bell, here, might be more my kind of person than he even realized.
“Campaign organizer,” I said and took a step back. Fuck, walking was awkward with the tight squeeze of my flawlessly tailored trousers on my uncomfortably hard dick. “You’ve obviously got the skills for it. That’s what I’ll tell people. Kayla Doughtree usually starts the preliminary wave of campaign garbage, but she just had a baby, so she’s not going to do the early legwork.”
“You seem confident I’ll take the position.” His eyes had gone wary, and I wasn’t sure what had caused the shift in him.
“I am.”
“I’d love to.”
