28
Georgina
I refused to attend the Fourth of July celebration at the White House and didn't go on the blind date set up by my mother. It's the first time I've dared to defy them even a little bit. I know that's pathetic, at twenty-six years old, but I've always been the conscientious and dutiful daughter, doing my part to support my father's illustrious career.
My father called to give me a lecture about loyalty to the family – and to my country. "Not coming to the July Fourth celebration was a slap in the face to us – to me, personally. How can the country be united, if we're not united? You know that I still have great things left to do, things that will help people. That's why I need you to be onboard a hundred percent."
"A hundred percent," I echoed. I wondered if my father had always sounded so self-righteous and if his desire for power had always been so transparent. Did I just miss it, all of these years?
But I didn't defy him. I didn't tell him what I wanted to say, that I couldn't always put his campaign – his presidency – first. That I wanted my own life.
Instead, I played the dutiful daughter.
The daughter who's too afraid to rock the boat and stand up to her parents.
My mother called to tell me that she needed me to be committed to the campaign. Instead of trying to guilt me into compliance, though, she went straight for the jugular: "We'll make sure the board of directors votes to remove you from your position with our foundation."
Their foundation. That's what she called it, and for the first time, I realized that she's right. It's my family's foundation, not mine. I might have put in blood, sweat, and tears, but it's theirs. How sad is that? I've convinced myself that I'm a grownup, doing something important, but I'm still just a kid, blindly obeying orders.
Yet I didn't tell her to go fuck herself the way I should have. I chickened out. Instead, I simply told her that I wasn't going out with the suitor she had selected and she could find a different way of publicly redeeming me.
That's as much rebellion as I had in me.
Then I went to Nathaniel and Adriano. I put all of the outside bullshit out of my head and went to the only people I feel like I can be myself with.
When I'm not working, I've been spending virtually every waking minute with Nathaniel and Adriano. We don't go anywhere because we can't. Instead, we hole up in one of our houses hanging out, reading the newspaper (I discovered that Nathaniel loves newspapers as much as I do, but on his tablet), or watching movies (Adriano secretly loves romantic comedies).
And we talk. We talk about inconsequential things and our favorite things and I slowly divulge more about my parents and how hard it was to grow up in the public eye. We talk about music and our favorite TV shows and movies and books, and I learn that Nathaniel does the crossword in the newspaper every Sunday morning and that Adriano geeks out on model planes and cars.
We talk about all of the little things, but the little things are important. It's the sum of those little things that fill in the blanks about someone, that help you know who they are and where they come from and where they're going.
And I find myself wanting to know all of those things about Nathaniel and Adriano.
When I knock on their door tonight, Adriano gives me a look like he's hiding something and he's more than pleased with himself.
“What are you up to? You look very… smug.”
“God, you can’t keep a secret,” Nathaniel calls as he walks into the living room.
“I didn’t spoil it."
“If you’re about to gift me another sex toy, I’m going to slap you.”
“Ooh, th
at would be kinky. I might like it.” Adriano grins.
Nathaniel glares at Adriano. “We figured… you’ve been here a lot and we’ve been at your place and we wanted to take you out…”
“Like on a date,” Adriano interrupts.
“I can’t," I say softly. Panic rises in my throat. "You know I can’t go anywhere or be seen-”
“We know that,” Nathaniel says. “But we still wanted to, I don’t know, do something special.”
“We wanted to take you on a date,” Adriano says. “But here.”
“Since our romantic gestures thus far have involved sex toys." Nathaniel gives Adriano a dirty look.
“Sex toys and blow-up dolls,” I add.
What I don't add is that I like the fact that they haven’t tried to win me over with dinner and flowers and a chauffeur and all of the things that guys who want to date someone like me do – a night at the symphony, tickets to the opera, private helicopter rides.
What I don’t add is that I like that since we can't go out in public, we've been forced to spend time doing normal things, that I've gotten to know them outside of the media and public perception and all of that crap.
“It’s not like super romantic or anything, though. I mean, it's me and Nathaniel, so don't expect much.”
I laugh. “You're really selling this date business."
“Just come with us,” Nathaniel says, sighing in exasperation. “We obviously suck at this.”
“You really do. It makes me wonder how either of you have ever dated someone."
“I haven't," Adriano says automatically.
“Is that what we’re doing?” Nathaniel asks.
I stop dead in my tracks. “I don’t know. Are we –"
Dating. Up until now, nothing has been defined, not outside of bed anyway.
“I want to be dating,” Adriano says quickly.
“We told you that you were ours." Nathaniel scowls.
“You said that when we were in bed,” I start, my face flushing warm.
"And in the shower," Adriano points out.
“We want to be dating you,” Nathaniel says, his brow furrowed. “When I said you were ours, that’s what I meant. You’re ours.”
“So, then… you’re my boyfriends,” I say hesitatingly. I listen to the word roll off my tongue. Boyfriends. Plural.
"Say it again," Adriano orders.
“Boyfriends.”
Adriano pulls me against him and kisses me hard, my lips throbbing when he pulls away.
"Say it again," Nathaniel commands.
“Boyfriends,” I whisper.
Nathaniel brings his lips to mine, his tongue finding mine immediately. Then he stops and looks at me. “Damn straight,” he says. Before I can protest, he bends down and picks me up, slinging me over his shoulder and gripping my ass cheek as he walks toward the back patio.
When we're outside, he sets me down facing him. My hands go to his chest, sliding down his abdomen and my breath quickens. “Close your eyes and turn around.”
I do what he says, my heart beating faster. His hands are on my shoulders, his palms warm on my skin, and the heat of his breath wafts over my neck. But he doesn't put his lips to me the way I ache for him to do. “Open your eyes now.”
My hand goes to my mouth when I see what they've done in the yard. "It's… I don't know what to say. What is all of this?"
There’s a tent in the middle of the yard, but not just any tent. This looks like it’s been lifted from a hotel in Morocco, all billowing rich-colored fabrics and warmly lit lanterns. The tent is open in the front, and it’s filled with large patterned cushions and draped fabrics, and even more lanterns. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“We just wanted to take you camping,” Nathaniel says.
“This is definitely not roughing it,” I say softly. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.
“Well, we know you’re a princess and you can’t sleep on the hard ground,” Adriano jokes.
“This is really… nice.” I don’t have any other words for it. Nothing I can articulate right now anyway because my heart is too full.
Nathaniel stands in front of me, taking my hands in his. “This isn’t just… we didn’t want you to think we’re just…”
“We didn’t want you to think you’re just any girl,” Adriano says, coming up behind me. His hands trail down to my waist, and his breath wafts across my neck, making all of the hairs on my neck stand up.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. But I don’t have to say anything because Nathaniel’s lips cover mine, making words pointless now. Adriano’s lips are on my neck and he kisses his way down my shoulder, his hand sliding around my waist to the front and pulling me close against him. When I feel his hardness against my ass cheek, arousal rushes through me.
They undress me, working in unison with what’s becoming practiced skill, a rhythm that we’re all developing together. Nathaniel slides his hand under my legs and carries me to the tent, laying me down in a pile of pillows and kneeling beside me to survey me. “You are just so fucking beautiful."
Nathaniel and Adriano are fucking beautiful. They’re like chiseled Greek statues, perfect and hard and… they’re both mine.
My boyfriends.
My boyfriends who kiss every inch of my body. My boyfriends who move slowly, on either side of me, teasing me until I’m writhing underneath them. It seems like forever until they reach the lower half of my body, each putting a hand on my thighs to spread them.
