For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend (3 page)

“Time
to get up and at it,” he said as he carried her.
 

“Put
me down!” she said with laughter as she kicked her legs and hit him on his
broad shoulders to get out of his grasp.
 
But she was laughing so hard and still too surprised for her efforts to
have any effect whatsoever.
 
He easily
carried her all the way into their massive master bathroom and then, once fully
inside, stood her back on her feet.

He
looked at her.
 
“I’ll bet you’re awake
now,” he said.

She
hit him playfully on his massive bicep.
 
“I was born awake, buster,” she said, heading for the vanity.
 
“And don’t you forget it,” she added, looking
back.
 

He laughed.
 
“Tub or shower?” he asked her.

“What
time is it?” She yawned again and looked at him through the vanity mirror.
 

He
looked at his watch.
 
“Eight
thirty-seven.”

“Better
make it a shower,” she said as she grabbed her toothbrush.
 
“I’m late already.”

“Late?”
Dutch asked.
 
“You of all people?
 
No way!
 
I wonder how in the world did that happen?”
 
Then he smiled a hunched-shoulder smile and
reached into the shower stall to turn on the tap.

Gina
brushed her teeth quickly and then opened the bottle of mouthwash.
 
When she looked back up, gargling, she saw
Dutch in the mirror, standing at the shower stall with his hands on either side
of his hips, staring at her.
 
And not
just staring in general, but staring specifically at her naked ass.
 
She looked down too, at his mid-section, and
saw that he was already beginning to tent.
 
She knew where this was headed.
 
Especially as he began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

She
spit out her mouthwash, wiped her mouth with a cloth, and then turned toward
him.
 
He was dropping his pants and
briefs down along his ankles as he sat in front of the dressing table on the
cushioned bench.
 
Ready for her.
 

She
smiled, shaking her head.
 
“Honestly,
Dutch, do you ever get enough?” she asked him.

“Of
that body?
 
Not a chance.”
 
He began rubbing his already aroused
member.
 
“Come here.”

She
wasn’t exactly a reluctant participant as she walked over to him and straddled
him, with her face facing his, and sat on his lap.

“Now,”
he said, giving her short kisses on the lip, “I want to properly welcome you
into this good morning.”

“But
didn’t you say,” she said playfully, wrapping her arms around his neck, “that I
was already so late?
 
Didn’t you say time
was not our friend?
 
Didn’t you insist I
get out of that bed and get showered and dressed at once?”

Dutch
smiled.
 
Gina always had a quick
comeback.
 
“All the more reason,” he
said, still kissing her, “to shut the hell up and let me do you.”

She
laughed, leaning her head back, and it was just the opening Dutch was
after.
 
He began kissing her on that
long, brown, beautifully exposed neck, moving downward and lifting her as he
did, until he was kissing her breasts.
 
And as he kissed and sucked her there, his finger moved even further
down, between her firm thighs, as he began to rub her.

Gina
felt that sensual feeling overtake her entire body as his finger massaged her
clit and his mouth ravaged her breasts.
 
No better way to wake up, she thought, as he did her in that masterful
way she loved.
 
He was known the world
over as Mister Cool, a man who never got too high or stayed too low.
 
But Dutch was anything but cool when he was
doing her.
 
He was a man on fire.

He
didn’t stop fingering her, or kissing her breasts and neck and mouth, until she
was so moist she felt as if she had already cum.
 
And she would have if it had been any other
man.
 
But Dutch gave her levels of
cum.
 
What used to be the final stage
with all those other men in her past, was only the first stage with Dutch.

Dutch
felt the intensity too as he fingered and kissed her.
 
No better way for him to welcome a new day
than with his wife naked on his lap, her firm ass rubbing against his dick, and
his mouth and fingers massaging her.
 
And
when he took hold of his fully aroused penis and began guiding it into her now
saturated folds, and they both felt that friction of first contact that made
him tremble every time, they both closed their eyes.
 
To experience it all over again.
 
To experience that unbridled joy of being
with the one they loved as if it was their very first time.

Dutch
especially felt the power of their sensual connection.
 
It always made him want to rush it.
 
But he maintained control and moved into her
with great care.
 
Her vagina remained the
perfect fit for his penis, leaving him with zero wiggle room, as he continued
to push in.
 
Then he began his
strokes.
 

Although
they both knew they didn’t have a mountain of time, he still took his
time.
 
He filled every scintilla of space
inside of her as he expanded and stroked.
 
Gina laid her head on his shoulder, and kept her eyes closed, as she
enjoyed the ridge of his dick-head glide along her vaginal wall with repeated
swipes.
 
He kept pushing further and
further in with every stroke, filling her with his size and his ability to make
full use of that size.
 
He made her feel
every inch of his penis, every vein, as he fucked her.

Dutch,
too, felt every inch of her as he put it on her.
 
His muscular arms were around her naked body,
warming her and holding her with his strong grip, as his dick couldn’t get
enough of her pussy.
 
He kept putting it
on her.
 
He couldn’t stop pushing in, he
couldn’t stop stroking her.
 
Even the
friction between her tightness and his expansiveness made him fully aware of
every fiber of her being.
 
Of
their
being:
 
her breasts against his chest.
 
Her stomach against his stomach.
 
The back of her thighs against the front of
his.
 
Her fantastic scent.
 
The softness of her hair against his
neck.
 
This was his woman.
 
This was his woman’s body.
 
And he loved loving every inch of it.
 

But
as he continued to thrust into her, into that wondrously constricted space
between her legs, his heartbeat started quickening in direct proportion to his
strokes.
 
And soon, after so many
strokes, it was impossible to maintain now.

He
began to fuck her hard.

She
kept her head on his shoulder and held onto his muscular body as he thrust into
her vaginal juices and his pre-cum with such increasing ferocity that she felt
as if he was going to pound her raw.
 
It
felt just that good.
 
It felt just that
intense.
 
It felt as if her saturation
wasn’t going to be enough if he kept on any longer.

But
to her great delight, he kept on.
 
And on
and on.
 
His reddening dick thrust into
her and thrust into her.
 
She held onto
him as it thrust even more.
 
And it
started feeling like a magnificent catch-22.
 
The more he thrust, the tighter she became.
 
The tighter she became, the bigger he
became.
 
The bigger he became, the more
intensely sensual it felt to both of them.
 
The more sensual it felt, the harder he thrust.
 
The harder he thrust, the tighter she
became.
 
And on and on and on.

Until
it was too much going on.
 

She
gave in first, as usual, and came with a thundering burst of spasms.
 
She clamped down so hard around his penis,
and with such uncontrollable pulsations, that he found himself unable to hold
back either.
 
He came within seconds of
her.
  

They
both grunted out as the feelings intensified and his valve released.
 
They both realized that this was beautiful, that
they were so fortunate, as he throbbed and thrashed and she constricted and
arched.
  
Even their cum took time, as he
kept thrashing into her and she kept constricting around him in that powerful
Gina
way that made him unable to stop
pouring.
 
The throbbing was so strong he
had to strain it out.
 
He flooded her
with his love.
 
Until they were both so
poured out, and so drained and emptied, that even the drips stopped dripping.
 

They
didn’t realize how tightly they were holding onto each other until they opened
their eyes.
 
Both had that look of sheer
astonishment on their faces.
 
It happened again
, their amazed looks
seemed to say.
 
And they hugged again,
holding each other tighter.

Never,
not with any other partner before they met each other, had they ever had it
this consistently fantastic.
 

It
felt good.
 

It
felt right.

It
felt as if it couldn’t get any better than this.

CHAPTER THREE

Jade
Redding walked down the gorgeously appointed halls of Hammersmith Gardens as if
she was a woman in love with life itself.
 
She had pep in her step.
 
She had
a song on her tongue.
 
She was going home
today.
 
Today was the day she would be on
leave from this so-called “resting” place for the wealthy and well-connected,
and she couldn’t wait to get started.

Once
she arrived at her psychiatrist’s office, she didn’t wait there either.
 
She knocked once and then walked on in.

“You’re
late for your appointment, Jade,” said his secretary, as Jade hurried toward
the inner door.

“They
kept us late in Group,” she said as she hurried.
 
“Couldn’t be helped.”

When
Jade entered the office, the secretary shook her head.
 
“I’ll bet,” she said beneath her breath, and
then went back to her typing.

Reyza
Golan, one of three psychiatrists at Hammersmith, was seated in the wingback
chair flanking the couch.
 
Some patients
preferred to lay down during their sessions with him, others preferred to
sit.
 
The president’s daughter, however,
was another story entirely.

“You’re
late,” he said to her as he looked up from the stack of folders he was
reviewing.

“It’s
not my fault,” Jade insisted as she made her way toward him, her beautiful
hazel eyes bright with joy.
 
“It’s that
therapist.
 
She kept us overtime in Group
again.
 
We told her she was messing with our
schedules, but she doesn’t care.
 
You
need to talk to her.”

Jade
stood in front of him, waiting for him to remove the folders on his lap.
 
When he did, she knelt down and began
unzipping his pants.

“What’s
her name?” he asked her.

“Who?”
she replied as she pulled it out.

He
shivered when her hand touched him.
 
“The
therapist who conducted Group this morning,” he managed to say.
 
“What’s her name?”

Jade
gave him one lick.
 
“Dunlap,” she said,
and licked him again.
 

He
tossed the folders onto the side table and braced himself.
 
“This is most inappropriate,” he said the way
he’d been saying for months.
 
“We
shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Doing
what?” Jade asked as her tongue circled his fully aroused member.

“This,”
the doctor said with strain in his voice.

Jade
smiled.
 
“You just do your job and give
yet another glowing report to my father,” she said, licking him up and down the
line.
 
“This is my job.
 
You do your job, and I’ll do mine.
 
Then I’ll leave this prison of a place and go
on with my life.
 
You’ll stay in this
prison of a place and find yourself another willing participant.”
 
She looked at his handsome face, and then at
his large member.
 
“Easily,” she added.
 

And
then she inhaled, opened her mouth wide, and took him in full.

Brandy
smiled when they brought DeAndre into the visitors’ booth inside the Jail, but
DeAndre couldn’t pull it off.
 
A glass
wall separated them.
 
They had to
communicate by picking up a telephone.
 
The other inmates were already giving him all kinds of grief, thinking
they could intimidate him because he wasn’t a hardened criminal like them.
 
They had nicknames for him already.
 
Schoolboy.
 
Sissy.
 
Half-breed.
 
Any name but his own.
  
There was nothing, he felt, to smile about.

“What
did he say?” DeAndre asked as soon as he sat at the table and picked up the
phone.

“Good
morning,” Brandy said.
 
“They’re treating
you okay, Dray?”

“It’s
okay,” he lied.
 
“What did he say?
 
Did you call him?”

“Did
I call who?”

“The
man you said could help us, Bran, what’s wrong with you!”

She
frowned.
 
“Don’t you talk to me like
that.”

“Whatever.
 
Did you call him, Bran?”

She
hesitated.
 
Sometimes she wondered why
she bothered.
 
Yeah, I called him.”

“What
did he say?”

Brandy
hated lying, but she couldn’t add to her brother’s burdens.
 
“He’s looking into it.”

“Into
my case?” DeAndre was suddenly hopeful.

“Yeah.
 
He’s . . . looking into it, Dray.”

“Good,”
DeAndre said.
 
“But tell him to come and
talk to me first.
 
Those cops believe I
did it and they’ll make him believe it too.”

“What
about the video?” Brandy asked.
 
“It’ll
back up your story.”

“But
they claim there are no cameras inside that store.”

“That’s
a lie,” Brandy insisted.
 
“Why wouldn’t
they have cameras?
 
I don’t believe that
for a second!”

“I
don’t either,” DeAndre said.
 
“But that’s
what they’re claiming.”

Brandy
already knew this was going to be an uphill battle.
 
But if the cops were willing to pretend
evidence didn’t exist to get a conviction, she now realized just how steep the
climb was going to be.
 
But she couldn’t
let her brother know that.
 
“I found you
a lawyer, Dray,” she said with another smile.
 
“A good one.”

“But
I thought you said that rich dude was going to look into it?”

“He
is.
 
But you’ll still need a lawyer for
right now, rather than just some overworked public defender.
 
He’ll be here to see you later today.”

 
“The rich guy?”

“The
lawyer, Dray.
 
He’ll be here later
today.”

“But
what about your rich friend?
 
When will
he let us know something?”

“Soon,”
Brandy said.
 
“Real soon.”

“Tell
him everything Will and Eddie are saying are lies.
 
I didn’t shoot anybody and they know it.
 
Tell him to come talk to me first.”

Brandy
nodded.
 
“I will, Dray.
 
I will.
 
But what about you?
 
They’re
feeding you okay?”

“I’m
fine.
 
I just wanna get out of here.
 
I didn’t do anything.
 
I didn’t shoot anybody and I didn’t try to
rob anybody.
 
But none of the cops will
believe me.”

“I
told you not to talk to them.”

“I’m
not talking to them!
 
I said I didn’t do
it, that’s all I said.
 
But they keep
talking to me.
 
They keep claiming they
have all this evidence against me.
 
But
that can’t be true, Bran.
 
I never did
anything wrong.
 
But they won’t believe
me.”

Brandy
knew.
 
They didn’t see this honor student
with the good grades and the clean record.
 
To them he was just another statistic.
 
Another thug in jail.
 
“Don’t you
worry, Dray,” she said, to reassure him.
 
“I’ll get you out of this.
 
I
promise you.”

And
although DeAndre still couldn’t pull off a smile, he did manage to appear less
anguished.
 

It
was his sister who was inwardly agonizing.
 
It was his sister who had phoned Harber Industries nearly ten times
already, only to be told each and every time that Mr. Harber was not
available.
 
They wouldn’t even let her
talk to one of his assistants.
 

Not
that she didn’t expect the resistance.
 
She did.
 
The man was a former president, after all.
 
But she had to get through.
 
And she knew ten thousand phone calls wasn’t
going to get her through.
 
She’d made up
her mind this morning that she had to go to Harber Industries herself and give
him no choice but to see her, and to hear her out.

Desperate
times, desperate measures, she thought, as she asked her brother once again if
they were treating him right.

Dutch
and Gina sat in the backseat of the SUV as Addison, Dutch’s assigned Secret
Service Agent and Driver, and Mitchell, Gina’s assigned Agent and Driver, both
sat up front.
 
Addison, the special agent
in charge, drove.
 

After
their intense round of lovemaking, which placed them further behind than Gina’s
late sleeping had done, they managed to finally be on their way.
 
Dutch was holding Gina’s hand while he
completed a series of calls on the car phone.
 
Gina was reviewing paperwork for BBR.

When
Dutch ended his final call, he hung up and looked at his wife.
 
Then he looked at the amount of paperwork she
had to review.
 
“Hectic day ahead?” he
asked her.

“I’d
say,” she admitted.
 
“But it’s a good
thing.
 
We’re helping a lot of people
now.”

Dutch
moved his tie, that had slanted to the side, back to the front.
 
“What kind of people is the question,” he
said.

Gina
agreed.
 
“They can be some unsavory
characters, sure they can.
 
But they’re
trying to turn their lives around.
 
We’re
trying to facilitate that turnaround.
 
It’s a messy process, but it works.”

They
used to argue with great regularity about the less-than-ideal location of
Gina’s Block-By-Block Raiders organization, but after she agreed to let his
security people fully upgrade the security around the place, and maintain a
presence there, he stopped beating a dead horse.
 
But if anything went wrong and one of those
unsavory characters tried anything, that would be the last time Gina stepped
foot into that building.
 
He’d already
made it clear to her that that would be the case.
 

Not
that she would have to give up her passion for helping the less fortunate.
 
He wouldn’t do that to her.
 
But what she didn’t know was that he had
already purchased a building to be used if needed, and it wasn’t all that far
from her current location.
 
The
neighborhood, however, was a world of difference.
 

He looked
at Gina as she continued to review her paperwork.
 
She was tastefully dressed, he thought, in a
conservative gray business suit and heels, and that soft hair of hers was cut
in a bouncy, super-short bob.
 
His job
now was to keep her happy, and he aimed to do his job masterfully.
 

“Do
you have any plans for this weekend, Mrs. Harber?” he asked her.

Gina
looked up.
 
She had to think about
it.
 
“Not really.
 
Other than finally unpacking those boxes in
the guest room.
 
Why?”

“Save
the date.
 
We are going to drop Little
Walt off with Crader and Loretta at Crader’s estate in Florida, spend the night
there, and then Saturday morning you’re going with me.”

Gina
smiled.
 
“Where are we going?”

“For
me to know and for you to eventually find out.”
 
Then he turned serious.
 
“Save the
date.”

Gina
nodded.
 
“I will,” she said.
 
“Gladly.
 
I’d go to the ends of the earth with you, babe, you know I will.
 
A weekend?
 
Piece of cake.”

Gina
said this with a shake of her own shoulder, imitating a move Dutch habitually
made, and Dutch laughed.
 
And squeezed
her hand.

Then
his phone rang again, he fielded another call, and Gina went back to reviewing
her paperwork.
 
But when he ended his
call, and he began looking out of the window at the crowded city around them,
she exhaled.
 
She could tell he had
heavy-duty issues on his mind.