CHASE: Complete Series (3 page)

He plucked a strawberry from the bowl and took a bite out of the luscious fruit. He savored it for a moment before he swallowed. He leaned over me and his lips fell softly over mine. The taste of strawberry on his tongue made my stomach flutter as he cupped my face in his hands.

“Stand up.”

I obeyed his command immediately, the feet of my chair squealing as he kicked it across the tiled floor. He slunk behind me, running his hand down my arm as his lips grazed my neck.

I began to panic. What was he doing and how long would it take? How much longer did we have before our meals were ready and the waiter returned?

“I’ll pay off your debts, you’ll get a company car, and I can offer you…” he whispered a number in my ear that nearly made my heart stop. “Is that sufficient, Larissa?”

His hands slid down my waist and over my hips. He tugged the skirt of my dress up and I had a moment of panic as his hand glided up my thigh.

“No panties?” he remarked. “I like that.”

Jack was the one who suggested no panties. That was the “carefree” part of the outfit.

Chase’s right hand slid between my cheeks as his left hand reached for a folded napkin on the table. “Put your hands behind your back,” he whispered. I obliged and he immediately tied the napkin around my wrists. “What is your answer, Miss Jacobs?” He turned me around so I was facing him then he grasped both my arms and forced me to sit in my chair. “Just relax.”

He knelt down on one knee and propped my legs on his shoulders as his tongue explored my slick nether regions. The pleasure burst through my center all the way to my limbs and I tossed my head back. His finger curled inside me, stroking my spot as his tongue caressed my bud with increased urgency. My hips bucked uncontrollably as he brought me to the brink of orgasm and stopped.

4

“What’s wrong?” I asked breathily.

He raised his eyebrows. “What is your answer? Can I welcome you to the campaign?”

“Oh, god!”
I thought, as I pulsated with a need for him to finish me off. This wasn’t fair.

Then I considered his offer. With my debts paid off and the salary he was offering, plus the car, I wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not this director thought I was ten pounds overweight or that casting director thought my face was not symmetrical enough. So much of my daily worries would disappear with a single word. Then there was the issue of his wife. Would she know? Did she already know?

“I don’t know,” I said before his blue eyes could sway me toward a premature
yes
.

He smiled as stood up and untied the napkin around my wrists and helped me push in my chair just before the waiter arrived. My insides were aching to have him inside me, but we would have to wait.

The waiter placed two plates laden with steaming seared tuna and vibrant grilled vegetables. The smell was intoxicating.

“Dig in. You’re going to need your strength for when I attempt to convince you later.”

I gobbled up my food as fast as I could without making a mess or looking like a complete pig. When I was done, I patted my mouth with my napkin and took a sip of water, nearly spilling the drink on myself as something prodded its way between my legs. I looked at Chase and his expression was intense as I realized it was his foot fondling me.

“Are you ready?” he asked and I nodded frantically. “Good. Stand up.”

As I stood from the table, he also stood and swiped all the plates off the table, sending a bowl of raspberries careening off the side of the cliff to the rocks below. My heart raced as he glided across the distance between us. He grasped my arms and turned me so I faced the now barren tabletop.

He pulled my dress up and over my head and tossed it to onto the tiled floor. I felt completely exposed worrying if our waiter or the kitchen staff were watching from beyond the tinted glass wall separating us from the interior dining space.

“Bend over,” he ordered me, and I did as he pleased.

My breasts pressed against the cool glass tabletop as he leaned against me, his weight pressing my belly against the glass as his tongue explored the folds of my ear. He entered me as he bit down on my shoulder and I gasped loudly.

“You are going to accept,” he grunted, his arm wrapped around my waist. He pulled me closer so he could enter me even deeper. “Aren’t you?”

His other hand reached around and caressed my clit, alternating between a soft and urgent touch. I screamed with pleasure and my cries echoed over the cliffs. My body quaked, my legs turning to jelly, as he brought me to orgasm, but he wasn’t finished.

He pulled out of me and continued to rub my bud as he aimed to make me come again. I was almost there when his finger slid back and eased between my ass cheeks. He massaged and stroked gently until his thumb slid into the hole and I panted with bliss. He pulled out his finger and my juices guided him into the place no man had ever gone.

“Oh, my god!” I screamed. “Yes!”

He licked my neck as he pounded into me. “Is that ‘yes’ for me?”

The table shook beneath us as he stabbed me over and over again. The warm sensation of an inevitable orgasm spread through me.

“Fuck, yes,” I breathed. “Don’t stop.”

His warmth filled me as he came inside me and collapsed on top of my back. My breasts squeaked against the glass tabletop as he kissed my neck while he was still inside me.

Does he want to go again? I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.

Just as this thought crossed my mind, he pulled out. I turned to face him, feeling utterly exposed with the ocean breeze accentuating the wetness on my neck and between my legs.

“I’ll take you home so you can pack a bag. We’re hitting the trail tomorrow,” he said, as he zipped up his pants and tucked his polo back into his jeans. He picked up my dress and handed it to me.

“What about your wife?” I asked. I had to ask. If I was going to accompany him on the campaign trail I had to know if I was risking having my name and dress size plastered across the covers of tabloid magazines.

His eyes bore into me, probably trying to figure out the subtext beneath my question. “My wife and I haven’t so much as breathed on each other the entire time we’ve been married. My wife has been in love with another man since before she even met me, rather, before she was hired by my campaign manager.”

I began to wonder why such a handsome, powerful man had to hire a wife and an escort. Then I realized it probably had to do with the fact that you can buy silence. Is that what he wanted me for: my silence?

“Don’t let all those questions brewing inside your mind stand in the way of the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said, as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I’m not going to be the president forever.”

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Chase

Part II: Disclosure

1

Carrying on a secret affair with the most wanted politician in America was tricky at best. At it’s worst, my affair with presidential candidate Chase Underwood would be a racing nightmare of primping and prepping for one publicity event after another. At it’s best, our affair was the naughtiest, most pleasurable relationship I’d ever been in.

Relationship
.

Chase’s word, not mine. The word was plastered all over the nondisclosure agreement he had presented to me last night, right after giving me multiple orgasms with his talented tongue.

“That’s not fair,” I had said, as he insisted I read aloud sections fifteen through nineteen while he lightly kissed every inch of my body. “‘Number fifteen: Recipient shall submit to Candidate’s requests, whether related to the Campaign or sexual in nature, in a timely manner; preferably, as soon as such request is made.’” I paused and reread the sentence to myself to make sure I had read it correctly. “What is this?” I asked, as he kissed the inside of my knee.

The hotel lamp cast a soft, golden glow over his brown hair and reflected brilliantly off the few gray hairs he refused to dye.

“I just want to make sure we’re clear on the terms of this relationship,” he said, his lips moving lightly over my knee to the top of my thigh. “Keep reading.”

He slid his hand over my abdomen until he reached my breast. My back arched as my fingers clenched tightly around the sheets of our hotel bed and the contract in my other hand.

I swallowed my pleasure and continued. “‘Number sixteen: Recipient shall submit to regular mental, physical, and dental health examinations. Recipient shall also maintain her physical and mental health through regular exercise, healthy diet, therapeutic spa treatments, and, if necessary, regular sessions with a clinical therapist.’” I stopped reading and Chase chuckled, as if he knew what I was about to say. “Therapy?”

“Come now, Larissa. I see a therapist. I’m not implying you need one, but it gets pretty stressful when the campaign is running at full tilt. I want you to know that if you need to talk to anyone, other than me, I can provide that. All my staffers get full health benefits.”

“Of course, they do. What would the press think if you didn’t provide your employees health care when you’re out there stumping for single payer?”

“You’ve been doing your homework.” He kissed my hipbone, sending a shiver through me that stiffened my nipples. “Keep reading. I love listening to your voice.”

“‘Number seventeen: Recipient shall address Candidate respectfully at all times, in public as ‘Sir’ and in private as ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. President’.’” My mouth went slack with shock. “In
private
? Are you kidding?”

His tongue traced a ring around my nipple and the cool air in the hotel room made my entire body shiver.

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Larissa.” His erection grazed my thigh as he slithered up and kissed my collarbone. “You’re being a very bad girl.”

“Don’t you mean I’m being a very bad recipient?”

“Don’t make me bring out my paddle.”

Something about this sentence threw me over the edge. “Put it in,” I murmured.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Put it in, please… Mr. President.”

He slid into me and I moaned as I tossed the contract to the floor.

“Say it again.”

“Mr. President,” I said, relishing the feel of the word on my tongue as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Faster, please, Mr. President.”

The air inside the private jet was too warm and smelled too strongly of leather and French roast coffee. Three days spent with Chase and I already knew his favorite brand of coffee, his shoe size, and the password to his Facebook profile. He gave me a long list of his internet passwords, which I would be using to check his emails, Tweet for him, and post status updates on his behalf. I had gone from rookie escort to Senior Personal Assistant to the future president of the United States in less than a week.

I kept going over the five extra clauses tacked onto my nondisclosure agreement in my head and wondering what I’d gotten myself into. The last clause in the NDA was obviously the most important.

19. Recipient agrees all aspects of her relationship with Candidate, whether related to Campaign or sexual in nature, must be kept confidential, unless Agreement is declared null and void by Candidate. In the event of the Candidate’s untimely death, Recipient shall remain bound by this Agreement for not less than seven years.

Chase came back to our cabin after his chat with the pilot, adjusting his tie and looking very pleased with himself. “The pilot says we have nothing but clear skies ahead of us. Maryland, here we come.”

He sat in the seat next to me and immediately pulled out his iPhone to check his emails.

“I can do that,” I said, pulling out the new iPhone he purchased for me two days ago.

He smiled at me as he tucked his phone into his coat pocket and leaned toward me. “You can do that…?”

“I can do that, Sir,” I murmured, as he kissed the corner of my mouth.

He planted a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and sat back. “Fasten your seat belt, Larissa. I’m a strong believer in the old adage safety first.”

I’ll bet you are.
After all, that was the whole point of the NDA, wasn’t it?

My heart hammered as the plane roared down the runway. I hated airplanes. As soon as we were at cruising height, Chase removed his seat belt then reached over and undid mine.

“Come with me.”

I followed him through a locked door toward the rear of the plane. We passed through a cabin where twelve staffers sat in equally luxurious accommodations.

As we passed, Chase squeezed the shoulder of a young fellow with curly hair hunched over a computer. “Don’t work so hard, Isa. Relax a little or you’ll scare off the young ladies.”