31.2
Nathaniel slides his fingers under my jaw, turning my face up to him. "You're not the idiot girl we're fucking."
"We royally screwed up by not telling you," Adriano says, his hand going up to my hair, tucking an errant strand behind my ear before grazing my neck with his palm, sending goose bumps over my skin. "I screwed up as much as he did. You should have known from the beginning, gone in with eyes open."
"It's just– this whole thing has been insane," I say, my words already breathy. I close my eyes as Adriano's hand moves down my arm, as my body responds immediately to their touch. "You're backstage here– at a charity event where my parents are going to show up any second. You can't be here. And I don't think I would have even risked it if I knew you were just leaving and–"
They don't let me finish talking. Nathaniel puts his hands on the sides of my dress, hiking it up over my thighs as I let out a little squeal, then picks me up and carries me to the nearest wall, pushing my back up hard against it. The mic pack digs into my back, but I don't care.
My breath catches in my throat as he puts his lips against mine, and my body responds to his touch. I let out a moan as he slides to his knees in his tuxedo, pushing my thighs further apart. His fingertips graze the fabric covering my pussy. "Your panties are all wet," he whispers, but it's more like a groan.
"I'm wet, and I have to go in ten– eight– minutes," I whisper. "And neither of you should be here."
"We want– no, we need– to apologize," Adriano says. Standing beside me, he turns my face toward his to kiss me hard on the mouth, his tongue seeking out mine as Nathaniel slides his finger under the fabric of my panties. I let out a long, desperate moan into Adriano's mouth.
"I need to apologi
ze on my knees," Nathaniel growls. "I need to smell you. I need to taste you. I need to make you come."
Oh my God.
It's wrong– so wrong– that I'm even considering doing this right now. I'm minutes away from needing to be out there on stage, and I'm going to go out there disheveled and reeking of orgasm? And I'm in here with them when I could so easily be caught and- oh, shit, Adriano is slipping his fingers down the front of my dress, covering my nipple, and Nathaniel is pushing my panties to the side, his warm mouth between my legs.
How in the world can I think rationally when they're doing what they're doing right now?
I can't. I spread my thighs wider for Nathaniel, groaning as he thrusts his fingers inside my slick pussy before covering my clit with his mouth. "Oh my God," I breathe. My body responds instantly– so quickl– to the sensation, the fact that it's been two days since I've felt either of them between my legs made instantly obvious.
I'm so quickly near climax I can hardly stand it.
"This is just a preview," Nathaniel says as he flicks his tongue over and over my clit. I'm so wet I think I'm dripping down my legs as Adriano reaches around my back, fumbling with the zipper to my dress. He yanks out the mic pack.
"I'm taking this off," he growls. "I want your tits in my mouth."
"You… can't," I breathe. "Oh my God. You can't. I have to go out there and you can't make me look like I've been…"
"Fucked?" Adriano growls. He throws the mic pack on the ground.
"Fucked. Yes," I breathe. "Holy shit."
Adriano pulls the loosened fabric of my dress down over my breast and tongues my nipple as Nathaniel fucks me harder with his fingers.
"When you finish with this political bullshit, you're going to come straight to our bed, Georgina Aschberg, and I'm going to come in this sweet–"
Nathaniel thrusts inside me with his fingers.
"Oh, God."
"Tight–"
Thrust again.
"Perfect little pussy of yours," Nathaniel says, the tips of his fingers pressing against the sensitive spot inside me.
"And I'm going to come in your tight, little, almost-virgin asshole," Adriano says.
"Oh, fuck," I breathe. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me." Adriano stifles my moan with his mouth, but it hardly does anything to mute me as I come so hard with Nathaniel's face between my thighs.
The door bursts open.
I'm still coming as Blair, David, and Vi run into the room. Nathaniel's fingers are still between my legs, my pussy still contracting around him and I'm dizzy, so completely out of it, I don't even understand what's going on.
"Vi! What's wrong with you?! Get out of here!" I shriek.
"Don't say anything!" Vi orders, her voice shrill. "Don't say another word!" She slides in her skirt and heels, grabbing the mic pack off the floor and yanking the cords from it before she tears across the room and tosses the entire thing in a pitcher of water.
"Ma'am, you need to come with us," Blair says, her voice measured, as if it's every day she walks in on the president's daughter getting it on with two football players.
"Fuck," I whisper, panic rushing through me. "Turn around!"
They all spin around, and Nathaniel slips his fingers from between my legs, standing and pulling down my skirt as total chaos erupts. Vi and I are whisked out of the room by Blair and David while Nathaniel and Adriano are immediately escorted behind us by other Secret Service agents.
I can hardly catch my breath, my heart beating furiously. "What the hell is going on?" I ask the question, even though I have a sinking suspicion based on Vi's behavior with the mic pack.
But I don't want to say the words.
Blair and David push us toward the SUV, but Vi puts her hand up. "Like hell that's happening," she says, her voice tight. "Someone's already got the valet pulling my car up, Georgina."
"Ma'am, we need you to come with us," Blair says firmly. "Your father–"
"My father wants me to get in the car?" I look behind me for Nathaniel and Adriano, but I don't see them. I look at Vi. "Where's your car?"
"Come on," Vi says, taking my hand and pulling me behind her. The valet pulls up in her car just as we reach it, and Vi is peeling away from the building as soon as she shuts her car door. "Your security will follow us, but it beats being trapped with your parents on Air Force One or something."
"Nathaniel and Adriano–" I start, looking in the side mirror behind us.
Vi shakes her head. "Out of there in the opposite direction," she says.
I exhale heavily. "Please tell me what I think just happened didn't just happen," I say, my voice trembling.
"I'm sorry, Georgina."
"How?"
"The campaign manager had some dumb intern running the live feed, and the girl turned it on early, I guess. Your mic pack didn't even look like it was working when I left, so I'm not sure how I even missed something like that–"
The image of Adriano tossing the mic pack on the floor flashes into my mind. "Oh, God. It must have jarred something loose when he threw it or hit the on button… Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no." The full realization of what everyone must have heard hits me all at once and I collapse heavily back against the seat.
"They only heard part of it– thirty seconds, maybe. But it was the last thirty seconds when Nathaniel and Adriano were telling you–"
Oh, God. Telling me exactly what they wanted to do to me.
I think my heart actually stops beating.
Everyone heard that and… the rest of it…
I'm going to be sick.
"No," I whisper.
Vi's hand flies to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Georgina," she repeats. "The room heard a live feed of two football players giving the president's daughter an orgasm."
Everything spins. I think I'm going to faint. Vi is saying something now, but it sounds like she's speaking from far away, like she's in a tunnel. My phone is ringing and ringing and ringing, interspersed with Vi's ringtone over and over and over.
"Georgina?" Vi asks. "Georgina?"
Everything goes dark.
