Caught by the Chief of Staff (A Presidential Affair Book 2) Page 6
“Fine,” he clips out, his jaw tight.
“Fine,” I repeat.
“I see you’re scared, and you want to run, but know this,” he warns. “If you do, if you run from me again, I’ll just have to track you down and fuck it out of you. And I will find you. I have more resources, and I’m not tied down to an enlistment contract this time.”
“Rick—” I start, but he’s already gone, and my bedroom door slams behind him, followed shortly by the front door. And as I lay there, naked in my bed, feeling my body used in a good way and also bad ways too, I let the tears roll unchecked down my face and think my life couldn’t possibly get worse than this.
It’s too bad I would find out later how very wrong I am.
“President Openly Opposes New Bill”
Chapter 6
What happens in Vegas
“Let’s do it.”
Rick and I are naked in his bed. Our legs are tangled together, and he keeps twisting a lock of my hair around his finger over and over again.
“What?” I ask, distracted. Rick has a way of making all thought fly out of my brain with just a look or a touch. I’m so wrapped up in this man that it’s ridiculous. I am so in love with him.
“Run away with me,” he whispers on a smile before he presses his lips to mine.
“I already did, silly,” I tell him the truth. This trip was not planned, but after I met him in a bar on the east coast a few months ago, we haven’t been able to stay away from each other. So when he asked to buy me a plane ticket to San Diego for a little sex on the beach before his next deployment, I said yes in a heartbeat. “I flew to California at the drop of a hat for a booty call.”
“Is that all this is to you?” he asks me seriously. “A booty call?”
“No,” I whisper softly. “And you know it.”
“I do,” he agrees, folding my hand in his and pressing it against his chest. I can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. “So marry me.”
“What?” I ask, surprised. That’s crazy, right? We’ve only known each other a few months. And we live on opposite coasts. This can’t possibly work.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says quickly. “And it is crazy, but it’s not. If you really think about it, you know we’re meant to be together. You’re meant to be mine.”
“What about my life on the east coast?” I ask, not that there’s much tying me down there. I have no family left.
“You can go to school here and move when you’re ready,” Rick answers. “I’m going to be gone for a while, but I’d like you to be here when I get back. As my wife. So what do you say?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?” he asks, a huge smile spreading across his face.
“Yes,” I answer him. “I’ll marry you.”
“You’re mine,” Rick says as he rolls me to my back.
“I’m yours,” I repeat just before he slides in deep.
I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold on tight as he slowly rocks in and out of my body, bringing us higher and higher together. And it’s together, in each other’s arms, that we fall over the edge.
Rick and I hold on to each other; we breathe each other in. I have never felt this close to another human being before. I am Rick’s, and he is mine, and there will never be anything that will tear us apart. Yes, this is crazy. No, we haven’t known each other for very long. But in my heart, I know Rick is the only man I am ever going to love, and I know without a doubt there will never be another. And the way Rick holds me just as tight tells me he feels the same way about me. It tells me everything.
“What do you need?” he asks me when our hearts slow and breathing evens out.
“Not a thing,” I answer him honestly. “Just you.”
“What about a dress?” He toys with a sweat-dampened lock of my hair near my temple.
“It’s not important.” I shrug one shoulder, because in the grand scheme of things, it’s not. It’s just a dress.
“I thought every girl dreamed of their wedding dress,” he says thoughtfully. Rick is always thoughtful where I’m concerned. He is so attuned to me and my needs that it’s uncanny.
“I’m not every girl.”
“Don’t I know that,” he growls before rolling me to my back again and grinding his hips into mine. “Other girls don’t make me this hard.”
“I thought you wanted to get married?” I ask him and giggle.
“I do.” He sighs before sliding from the bed with his regret written all over his face as if he didn’t just come ten minutes ago.
“I think you’ll survive,” I tease him and then squeak when he grabs me by my ankle and yanks me out of bed. “Rick!” I shout as he throws me over his shoulder and runs to the bathroom.
“I think you’ll survive,” he mimics my words as he steps under the freezing water of the shower, and then I really scream, making him laugh.
“You are a dead man, Rick Donovan!” I shout as he soaps me down.
“And you’re about to be a very happily married woman.”
“You’re just lucky I love you so much,” I say before he shoves me under the frigid spray again to rinse off. “And you’re good in bed.”
“I love you too.”
“You better,” I snap, even though I’m clearly enjoying myself watching him soap up his body as I inch as far away from the cold water as possible.
“Oh, I do.” He winks at me before giving his cock an extra stroke and a squeeze for my benefit.
“Why are we taking a polar bear plunge right now?”
“Because my dick could drive nails right now, and you so helpfully reminded me that we have a wedding to attend,” he says, eyeing his dick and then looking pointedly at me.
“What did I do?” I ask, wondering what I did to earn the glare and the cold shower.
“You make the dick hard,” he says like I should know the answer.
“You should control it better,” I tell him. I can barely get the words out before I’m laughing so hard my belly hurts and I can’t catch my breath.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?”
“Maybe.” I eye him suspiciously.
“Then you’ll find this hilarious,” he says just before he hauls me into his arms and crushes his mouth to mine.
And then we were an hour later leaving San Diego than we had originally planned.
• • •
“I don’t need a dress.”
“You need a dress,” Rick presses as we walk through another shop in the Forum.
“I don’t.” I let out a frustrated sigh before looking down my body. I’m in a flowy, white eyelet tank and frayed denim shorts. Brown leather flip-flops show off the coral nail polish on my toes. I don’t look any worse than Rick, who is wearing tan cargo shorts and a gray T-shirt that displays his ripped forearms and the frog feet tattoo on his inner bicep.
“You do,” he says with more feeling than I would have thought a dress warranted. “I want you to have every girl’s dream, but I can’t get you that on short notice, so I want you to have a dress and flowers and a ring. I want you to remember today as the best day of your life, free of regrets.”
“I think this one is nice,” I say, pointing to a white tea-length dress hanging on a rack after I swallow the huge lump in my throat. “Besides, I already have every girl’s dream, because I have you.”
Rick pulls me into his arms and kisses me long and deep, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and leaving me breathless. It’s over far too soon. And then he plucks the dress I’ve chosen off the rack, the hanger looking small and delicate in his large hand before he turns back to me.
“What else?”
“Shoes,” I tell him before walking over to a wall of heels and selecting a box in my size.
“What about the hat thing that covers your hair?” he asks, making me laugh. Rick always makes me laugh when I need it most, reminding me what’s really important.
“A veil?”
“Yeah
,” he answers me. “That. But don’t cover your beautiful face. I like to look at you.”
“This one.” I grab a bag with a picture on the front that looks like it fits the bill. “I think that’s it.”
Rick takes all my selections up to the register and pulls out his wallet, paying for them. The saleswoman looks disappointed that it isn’t a bigger sale, but I think this is perfect. I don’t think I would want anything fancier than this. I have never dreamed of what it would be like to have a big wedding with a dad who looked proud to walk me down the aisle. Mostly because I never knew my dad. When I was eleven, my mom died, and then I was all alone. I wasn’t mistreated, and for the most part I was pretty lucky with how it played out, but even in the best scenarios, the foster care system isn’t the place for fanciful dreams.
“So now that I have a beautiful dress and you’re in shorts and a T-shirt, how is that fair?” I ask, laughing.
“I packed my dress whites,” he answers. “I want everything to be special for you.”
“It is,” I whisper, feeling suddenly choked up.
“No, but it will be,” he says before grabbing my hand and leading me to the next shop, where he buys us matching gold bands.
And then Rick leads me back to our suite in the Paris Hotel that overlooks the Eiffel Tower and the Strip. I sit at the dressing table, curling and pinning my hair and touching up my makeup so I look like a bride, while Rick showers.
I strip out of my shorts and tank and pull on the white lace panties and matching longline strapless bra. I place the clip of the veil above my chignon and arrange the fluffy tulle behind me before unzipping my dress and pulling it from the hanger. I step into it and pull the zipper up my back as far as I can, but the back remains open.
“Shit,” I bite out, not noticing the water had been shut off until I feel warm hands slide into the opening of the dress, tracing my spine.
“Can I help you?” His voice rumbles in my ear.
“I can’t get the zipper all the way up,” I admit.
“Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” he says.
I regret the loss of his hands on my back when he slips them from my dress before expertly sipping it up. When I look back at him, I see his crisp, white uniform with his perfectly rolled neckerchief and a ton of medals on display. He cuts a striking figure of pure masculine perfection.
“Thank you,” I tell him, letting my fingers slide across the brightly colored ribbons and medals before stepping into the shimmery nude heels on my feet.
“I’m not gonna lie,” he says, his voice sounding rougher than before. “I’m going to prefer taking it off you more.”
“Me too,” I whisper before shooting Rick a saucy grin over my shoulder. “We should go before we miss our appointment.”
“Now we wouldn’t want to go and do that,” he says on a cheeky grin before putting his white sailor hat on his head and pulling open the door for me.
Rick holds out his arm for me, and I take it, letting him escort me into the elevator and then down to the valet and cab lines. A yellow cab pulls up when it’s our turn, and Rick holds the door open for me before sliding in beside me.
“To the Little White Wedding Chapel, please,” he says to the cabbie before taking my hand in his.
Rick silently toys with my fingers while we ride to the chapel. I look down to where they sit intertwined with his on his muscular thigh, when I feel the cool metal slide down my ring finger. A slim gold band with tiny diamonds all around it glitters on my finger, and it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s also not one of the plain gold bands we bought today.
“I wish I could give you something bigger, fancier, but this is all I could afford right now—” Rick starts to explain the beautiful token of his love as if it’s not enough, when it’s so beyond anything I ever dreamed of. I can’t let him keep going, so I interrupt him, placing my free hand on the side of his jaw and pressing my mouth to his.
“It’s perfect. I love it.”
“I’m glad.” He smiles just as the cab pulls up to the front of the chapel. “I would give you the world if I could.”
“You already have.” Just then, the cabbie opens the door and we step out onto the curb.
“You must be Rick and Cara,” an older man dressed like Elvis in the rhinestones and cape phase says, and I barely hold in my amusement. Rick’s eyes twinkle with merriment. I’m glad my dress has pockets and my credit card is stowed away, because we’re definitely going home with the photo package now.
“Yes,” he answers. “We are.”
“Excellent. Right this way.” Elvis leads us into an office at the front of the chapel, where he takes Rick’s credit card and hands me a small bouquet of pink roses and baby’s breath tied up in a black satin ribbon.
“Thank you,” I say as I smell the sweet roses and wonder what I could have done in this life or the last to deserve a man as loving and wonderful as Rick. He is everything I could’ve ever wanted and then some.
“Right this way,” Elvis says, leading us into a small sanctuary where he stands at the podium and picks up a small binder. He looks very official for an Elvis. “You may take her hand.”
An older woman with a camera snaps pictures, and we smile and pretend she’s not there as Rick takes my hands in his. The way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. I can only hope I make him feel this special. Fortunately, I’ll have every day of the rest of our lives to prove it to him.
“Dearly beloved,” Elvis begins, “we are gathered here today to unite Cara Cataldo and Richard Donovan in holy matrimony.”
Rick doesn’t take his eyes off me through the entire ceremony. I love you, he mouths the words, and I whisper them back. The moment is so beautiful it’s seared on my heart.
“Rick, do you take this woman to be your lawful wife, to have and to hold for all the days of your life?”
“I do.”
“Cara, do you take this man to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold for all the days of your life?”
“I do.”
“Rick, please place the ring on Cara’s finger and repeat after me.”
Rick slides the solid gold band down my finger to sit next to my diamond band. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness. As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you. I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”
“Cara, place the ring on Rick’s finger and repeat after me.”
I slip the ring down past his knuckle and speak from my heart, hoping he hears how important these words are to me. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness. As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you. I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”
“And now, by the powers vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Before Elvis ever speaks his final words, Rick sweeps me into his arms and dips me back as he crushes his lips to mine. It’s as if he was waiting for those little words to be spoken before he could act, and he waited so patiently. Almost.
Elvis and the older woman chuckle at our passionate display that is over too soon. She gives us a card to collect our photos tomorrow, and Rick leads me out into the night while they throw rice at us.
It’s by far the best day of my life, and as I look at Rick as we run out into the Vegas night, I know it will only get better from here.
“Maternity Jeans Worn by FLOTUS at Soup Kitchen Sell Out in Minutes”
Chapter 7
Stay away
“Hello?” I pull out my phone from my jacket pocket and answer.
I’m sitting at a small desk in Grace’s offices. She has a few important events coming up that she has to be styled for, so I’m pulling ideas from various designer catalogues online. She’s risen so high in popularity that everyone is watching w
hat she wears, even if it’s just to the gym. And I love the clothing budget. I have definitely given Jake’s black AmEx a workout lately, and he couldn’t care less.
“What a pretty little girl you have,” a robotic voice says after a series of clicks and beeps. And the altered voice takes me back to another time and place. Even though I can’t recognize it, in my heart of hearts, I know who it is.
No. This can’t be happening. I worked so hard; I have sacrificed so much, all to keep the monsters at bay, but somehow, they followed me home after all.
“Who is this?” I demand. I refuse to believe this is happening again. It can’t be. The unfairness of the situation hits me like a slap across the face.
“You know who this is,” they answer after a heavy pause that has my stomach sinking into my toes.
“I did what you said,” I say in a broken whisper. It feels like all the blood has drained from my face, and I feel lightheaded. The only thing keeping me grounded right now is the knowledge I have to stay strong for Rachel. “You said you would leave me alone if I did what you asked, and I did.”
“She looks so happy playing in the schoolyard,” the voice says. “So carefree and innocent. She has no idea the things her parents have done.”
“No,” I whisper, looking around to make sure I haven’t drawn anyone’s attention. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s a lovely blue ribbon in her hair.”
“No.” The sob that threatens to rise up from my chest is audible in my whispered protest. I know if I can hear it, he can too.
Rachel was just given that hair bow by her new bestie Becky over the weekend. Becky’s mom, Amber, made matching bows for the girls of bright blue ribbons mixed with soccer-ball-patterned ribbons. But she hasn’t had it long, so whomever this is, is watching her now.
“It would be such a tragedy if something happened to her. She has her whole life ahead of her…” the voice trails off, but the threat is there. It’s like a living, breathing thing that stands between us. And I know without a doubt he will follow through on his threats if I don’t tread carefully.