9.2
"Oh God," Georgina breathes. I have the sudden image of her, underneath me and breathing the phrase in the exact same way. Fuck, I just agreed to two weeks of professional behavior when this woman can utter a single phrase and have me rock hard. "I'm sure we can all agree that the blow-up dolls and the um… nakedness… are not appropriate?"
"I'm not sure Adriano is capable of keeping his clothes on for two weeks," I note.
Georgina blinks. "Yes. Um, you can't really take your clothes off –"
"I'll agree to keep my shirt on, as long as Nathaniel stops ripping your dress off."
Georgina's hand flies to her mouth. Is it my imagination that the breath she lets out might betray her sexual frustration? I can barely suppress the growl that rises in my throat. I'm definitely not making any promises when it comes to not tearing this girl's clothes right off her body.
"There's no reason for anything unprofessional to happen," Georgina says, her voice trembling. "We're adults. Professional adults. There's no need for anyone's clothing to come off, right?"
She laughs nervously.
That laugh. It's warm and awkward and makes her more likeable than she was before. Oh, hell. Getting her clothes off is absolutely the only thing I want.
When I look up, Adriano grins at me. Screw professional behavior. May the best man win - and there's no fucking way that's going to be Adriano Jackson.
Georgina
"Um, yes. I just need a few minutes before the meeting, please?" My words are coming out rushed, like I've just downed four shots of espresso, and I can't seem to make them slow down so I sound like a halfway normal person. Is Jane looking at me weird? She's totally looking at me weird.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" Jane asks, her brow furrowing. "You look a little flushed. I heard there's something going around. I can get you some Vitamin C if you'd like. Or maybe a cup of tea?"
"Okay. I'm okay. I'm totally fine. I think it's allergies. It must be allergies. I just need a minute. Sixty seconds. A few minutes, maybe." I turn around and dart back into my office before she can say anything else, closing and locking the door behind me before collapsing back against it.
“Oh my God.” I hear myself breathe the words aloud. They sound like they're coming out of someone else's mouth, throaty and hoarse.
I stand there, my back against the door, my chest heaving. Every cell in my body seems like it's on high alert, every inch of me so turned on that I don't think it's possible for me to catch my breath. My arms are dotted with goose pimples, my nipples hard inside my bra.
I don't even think about what I do next before I do it. I yank the sides of my skirt up over my hips, completely disregarding the nagging little voice inside my head that asks me what the hell I'm about to do right now in my office, when Jane and Secret Service agents are right outside and I'm already late for a meeting.
I practically stumble as I walk to my desk, drunk with lust, my palm landing flat on a pile of papers that slips forward, sending pages scattering to the floor on the other side. Normally, I would care about the fact that I just sent what are probably important documents hurtling to the ground. Of course, normally I would have better control of myself. Normally, I wouldn't be so consumed with lust for two men – two men! – that I yank my panties down over my hips in the middle of my office.
It's just that Adriano – lighthearted Adriano with his inappropriate humor and playful charm - showed up at my office offering to attend the summer camp, looking like he was daring me to object as his eyes drank in every inch of me. And Nathaniel – brooding, gruff, intense Nathaniel – stood so close to me that if he wanted, he could have pulled me against him and finished what he started that one night.
And Heaven help me, that's exactly what I wanted him to do.
My panties around my thighs, I reach between my legs, stifling the moan that threatens to escape my lips as my fingertips press against my clit. I imagine Adriano giving me that cocky, sure-of-himself grin as he looks up from between my legs, before his mouth returns to its work. I rub circles around my clit, my movements frantic not just because I'm in a totally inappropriate place to be touching myself but because I'm already nearly driven to the edge by how badly I want Adriano.
I want to feel his tongue inside me, to collapse as he brings me to orgasm, his mouth pressed between my thighs. I want to run my hands over his muscled chest, down his chiseled abs, to wrap my fingers around his hard cock and guide it into my mouth. I practically salivate thinking about the taste of his pre-cum as it touches my tongue and the way his hard cock feels between my lips.
And then there's Nathaniel…
With one hand firmly on the desk, I bend forward, biting down hard on my lip as I thrust two fingers inside my slick pussy. I imagine Nathaniel letting out a low growl under his breath as he grasps my ass cheek with his hand, his other hand guiding the tip of his cock to my wet entrance. I picture him thrusting inside me, his dick filling me up in one swift movement, the head of his cock pressing on the spot that sends arousal coursing through me in waves.
Bent over with my skirt bunched up around my hips and my panties halfway down my thighs, I fuck myself with my fingers, gathering momentum as I picture myself being filled up by Nathaniel at the same time that my lips are wrapped around Adriano's cock. When I imagine them coming inside me – Nathaniel letting go as he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper into my wet pussy, Adriano's hands in my hair as he fucks my mouth – I crash over the edge. My orgasm overtakes me, leaving me standing there taking short erratic breaths.
My office phone rings as I'm standing there with my fingers inside me, trying desperately to compose myself. With my free hand, I press the speaker button. "Yes?"
I recognize the voice of one of the White House operators on the other line. "Please hold for the President of the United States."
Fuck. I barely have time to slip my fingers from between my legs and compose myself before my father is on the line. "Yes, Dad?"
My heart still races, pounding so hard it threatens to beat out of my chest. I can feel how flushed my face has become, and I struggle to sound normal when I've just been interrupted in the most disheveled, completely undone state I've ever been in.
