“Probably not,” I admit.
He closes the bottle and puts it away. “There’s other cool stuff in there, too, you know.”
“Like that?”
He shrugs, walking over. He hands me a glass. “Proof of aliens.”
I gape.
He laughs, sipping his whiskey.
“I’m just kidding. As far as I know, there aren’t any aliens.”
I grin at him. “You ass.”
“I’m not the one that just believed in aliens.”
“Come on, is it really so farfetched?”
“Yes,” he says seriously.
“How?”
“The government is huge. Do you know how many people would leak that info immediately if it were real?”
“Good point.”
“Anyway, how’d we end up talking about aliens?”
“You brought them up.”
He sighs. “Okay, fair point.”
I sip my drink. It’s actually pretty good, smoky and warm but not bitter.
He sighs, massaging his eyes for a second. “It’s been a long day,” he says.
“Probably more like a long few months for you.”
“Good point. It never stops.”
“That’s what you signed up for.”
He grins. “I guess I can’t complain.”
“You are the most powerful man in the free world.”
He gets up. “What’s that mean, anyway? The free world?”
“As opposed to, I don’t know. China?”
“The Chinese are plenty free,” he says, shaking his head. “You try policing billions of people and see how that goes.”
“They try.”
“They fail.” He sits back down, but next to me this time. “No, the free world is just a pretty story we tell ourselves.”
“You’re in a cynical mood.”
“I guess so.”
I lean toward him, despite myself. He looks so human right now. Tired, overworked, but still…
Handsome. Gorgeous. Perfect.
“We need more people like you in government,” I say softly.
“What, handsome men?”
“No,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Especially no to the man part.”
“Then what?”
“People that want to help people.”
He shrugs. “Every politician says they want to help people.”
“But you’re actually doing it.”
“Trying, at least.”
I watch him carefully as he sips his drink. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead. But it better not be about aliens.”
I smile a little. “Why did you hire me? I mean, really.”
“I read your blog,” he says.
“Come on. That can’t be it. There are a million pollsters just like me, and some of them are probably smarter. You could get any one of them. Why me?”
He hesitates. “You really want to know?”
“I really do.”
“I saw you speak once.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How?”
“On YouTube,” he admits. “You posted a video of a conference you attended.”
“You watched that?”
“One of ten others, I believe.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Okay, now I think you’re obsessed.”
“I wasn’t,” he says. “Honestly, not at first.”
I stop, going still. “At first?”
“Now, though?” He smirks a little. “Maybe I am obsessed. Okay, that’s overstating it. But when I saw you speak, I just knew…”
I take a breath. “Did you hire me because you find me attractive?”
“Yes,” he says plainly.
I stare at him, not sure if I should slap him or kiss him.
“But not just that,” he says, more softly. “You were whip smart, quick to answer questions. I could tell you knew what you were doing and were above and beyond everyone else. I hired you because you’re talented. But also because I think you’re fucking attractive.”
I lean close to him, heart hammering. I should be angry that he brought me on because of my looks.
But that’s not what he’s saying. He’s saying my looks are what separated me from a ton of other qualified candidates.
I’m smart. I’m talented. He admits that freely, and I know it.
But he also thinks I’m attractive.
He puts his glass down, shifts himself closer.
“I know I shouldn’t admit that to you,” he says gently. “Power imbalance and all that. But I can’t help myself.”
“Power isn’t everything,” I say.
“No, it really isn’t.”
He leans closer. I don’t move. I don’t think I could move if I wanted to.
His lips come near mine. I tilt my head.
And I kiss the President.
At first, I’m too busy freaking the fuck out that I’m kissing the President. I mean, the freaking President!
Thousands of women would die just to do what I’m doing right now.
But it’s me, I’m the one kissing him. I’m the one on his couch.
And then it hits me all at once. His taste, his hand against my neck, his body so close. Suddenly he stops becoming the President.
And he becomes a man.
A really, really hot man.
The hottest man I’ve ever kissed, by far. And a really fantastic kisser.
Everything about him drives me wild. The amount of tongue, the taste, the pressure, his lips. I let him pull me closer and kiss me deeper, let myself drop into this deep dark hole of desire.
I let myself go to a place of need that I know I shouldn’t.
The kiss doesn’t last long. Maybe ten seconds, maybe fifteen. It feels like longer though.
The sound of knocking at the door interrupts us. I pull back like he’s a hot iron.
He smirks at me. “Yes?” he calls out.
Charles steps in through the back. He looks at me for a moment, his eyes scrutinizing me, and looks back at Adam.