First Lady (22 page)

She tossed her shoes into the corner, shucked her blazer, and began unbuttoning her green silk blouse. As it fell to the floor, she attacked her skirt, visions of Lauren’s flushed, soapy body surrounded by steam spurring on her actions. "Stupid clothes," she growled, tugging furiously at her skirt’s zipper.

Just as her skirt passed her hips, the water stopped. "No," Dev cried, closing her eyes. She opened the bathroom door, clad only in her bra and pantyhose. The steam poured out and it took a moment for her to spot her quarry.

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars to get back in the shower,” Dev begged, a puppy dog look on her face as Lauren wrapped a towel around her body.

Lauren laughed lightly. Her blonde, wavy hair was slicked back, her skin flushed a bright pink from the hot water. She wrapped a large blue body sheet around herself, tucking the end between her breasts.

Dev whimpered.

“Sorry, can’t do it, darlin'. I have to meet your mom and Beth in about 20 minutes.”

“They’ll understand,” Dev promised. She took several steps forward and laid warm hands on the hot skin of Lauren's shoulders. “They remember what it’s like to be young and in love.”

“Oooo.” Lauren squealed as she squirmed away. “I’m going to tell your mom you called her old.”

“I never said that." Her hands reached out again. "You’re misquoting me. You should go to work for the Times; they’re always misquoting me.”

“They hate you,” Lauren said crossly as she picked up a wide-toothed comb from the bathroom sink and began tugging it through her hair.

“Here." Devlyn plucked the comb from her hands and gently set to work on Lauren's hair.

The smaller woman smiled, utterly charmed by the affectionate gesture.

"Tell me about it. They’ve done everything but print that I’m a card-carrying member of the Nazi party and out to destroy the American family with my evil lesbian ways. Ultra conservative doesn’t even begin to describe that rag.”

Lauren closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle attention. “Uh oh. They did another article, didn't they?”

“Oh, yeah.” Regretfully, she passed the comb back to Lauren after getting the worst of the tangles. She still needed a shower herself. But it would have been so much more fun with you, her mind grumpily supplied. “This time they attacked my DNA Registration Act.”

Lauren just bit her lip and toweled off her face.

Dev’s head tilted slightly to one side as she tried to catch a look at Lauren's face in the steam-covered mirror.
 
“That sucks, honey. I’m sorry,” Dev mimicked in a slight Southern drawl.

“Okay.” Lauren nodded reluctantly. “That’s good. I could have said that.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Lauren set the comb down and turned around. Her voice was soft and warm, and she hoped it would take some of the sting from her words. “Devlyn, darlin’, do we have to get into another debate over this? You know how I feel about it. I love you and I’ve never made my opinion public, and I never will," she reminded her firmly. "But you know there are a few issues where we differ politically. And that's one of them.”

Dev made a face. “If I lose re-election by one vote you’re in trouble.”

Lauren just shook her head and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Devlyn to strip out of her bra and hose. She didn't miss the President's sigh of relief. She went over to the bed where she'd laid down her garment bag. “Are you going to?”

"Am I going to what?" Dev called from the bathroom.

"Run again."

This brought the President back into the bedroom. They'd talked generally about this. But they’d never given it the attention it needed.

“I don’t know." Dev's expression grew thoughtful. "There are days when I think yes, and then there are days when I wonder why in the hell I’m here in the first place.” And what living like this is doing to you.

Lauren shed her towel and walked purposely back to Dev, wrapping her in a warm, skin-on-skin embrace. Reflexively, her eyes closed at the delicious sensation. “Listen to me good, Devlyn Marlowe, because I’m only gonna say this once. So don't forget it." She pressed her lips to Dev's ear, feeling warm hands splay across her back, holding her tight. She sank deeper into the embrace. "It’s in your blood, Devlyn. This insanity that is the presidency. And more importantly, you're a good president." The hands on her back increased their pressure. "Even the people who don't agree with everything you do trust you. They are smart for doing so, Devlyn."

Lauren drew in a deep breath. “You need to do what's going to make you happy. And I'll support you no matter what that is.”

Dev smiled and pulled away, reaching up to cup Lauren’s cheek with one hand. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Lauren kissed Dev’s palm. “We'll talk about this more when we have time, all right?"

"Deal." Dev’s brow rose as Lauren moved back to the bed and unzipped her garment bag. “You wearing that to the party?” she squeaked loudly.

“I am." Lauren grinned. "It’s a tropical themed party, Devlyn."

Dev's mouth was still hanging open at the sight of Lauren's bright purple, flowered bikini top and the loosely fitted, wraparound skirt.

"You know, beach theme.”

“Oh, yeah. Can I come?”

Lauren chuckled. "You know you can't. Besides, I know for a fact David has been planning you a really nice party." Lauren wriggled into her top, much to Devlyn's dismay. "Do you know anything about it?"

“All I know is that we're watching a boxing match. It's not televised but David spoke to the promoters and we're getting a private satellite feed.”

Lauren grimaced. “Sounds bloody.”

Dev shrugged. She'd always enjoyed that particular sport, but knew her weak-stomached partner wouldn't make it past the first bloody uppercut. “Could be. It's supposed to be a good one. They're the two top-ranked heavyweights.”

Shimmying into panties and the skirt, Lauren examined herself in the mirror. After a month of hard dieting she'd taken off 12 pounds and was nearly back to her normal weight. “Well,” she kissed Dev on the cheek. “How do I look?”

"Fabulous. Let's stay in the room."

"Devlyn," Lauren scolded, but she eagerly absorbed the praise. "You won't miss me. You'll have fun watching two idiots pound each other silly."

"I always miss you," Devlyn said seriously.

Lauren just smiled. "Have fun."

Dev smiled back. "You too."

“We will.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Lauren let a thousand easy retorts ease their way from her mind before promising, “I won’t.” She stepped forward and laid warm palms on Devlyn’s cheeks, feeling the flesh beneath her hands ease into a genuine smile. On tipped toes, she brushed her lips against Devlyn’s.

Dev turned her head and kissed Lauren’s palm. “I love you.” Then she kissed her again, sinking into the moment.

Warm breath tickled Lauren’s face and she relished their closeness and the undercurrent of passion that crackled between them. “I love you, too.”

*
 
*
 
*

The sensual rhythm of tropical drums and the smell of roasting pork and fish floated down the hallway that led to the indoor White House pool, causing Lauren to sniff appreciatively and her hips to pick up the beat of the music as she walked. A relaxed smile eased across her face, and she tried not to think about how badly she needed this. An evening of fun and relaxation, where she could truly be herself and laugh and drink rum punch to her heart's content. There would be no worries about protocol or minding every word that she said. The only photographs would come from the small 35mm camera slung around her neck, and they would end up in her personal scrapbook instead of the tabloids. The only missing ingredient was Devlyn, who she fully intended on coaxing into her bed after their respective parties anyway.

She smiled as she walked across the thick carpeting in flip-flops she hadn't worn since college. Beth hadn't told her much about her party other than giving her specific instructions on what to wear and to come hungry. The latter, Lauren admitted wryly, would not be a problem after her crash dieting.
 
She only hoped Beth had ordered enough food.

Gremlin and his mate, Princess, trotted alongside her, apparently finding the prospect of 15 children under the age of 10 too daunting to face, even with the prospect of eating up the mountains of food that would be dropped on the floor. "Cowards."

Her pug lifted his head at her and snarled, baring his tiny crooked teeth.

"Don't whine," Lauren chastised, giving her a pet a dismissive wave of the hand. "You know it's true."

She stopped in front of the doors that led to the pool and bit her lip to keep from laughing at the agents who were standing guard. It was Jack and Brendan. Both men were wearing their suit coats, but Jack had on a pair of bright orange swimming trunks and Brendan was wearing a red bandana over his head and sporting a tie covered in gaudy palm trees.

"Ms. Strayer," both men greeted, barely able to keep a straight face.

"Agent Kieser. Agent Wochowski," Lauren replied just as formally, her gray eyes twinkling with mischievous delight. She'd been itching to see a great many of the men and women who worked for the Executive Branch in a more relaxed setting. Tonight, she would get her wish.

Lauren rocked back on her heels. "Are you going to let me in?" She could hear laughter and music behind the door, which was actually vibrating a little from the raucous sounds behind it. Apparently, the party had started without her. She tried to peek inside; black construction paper had been taped over the glass windows in the doors.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We'll have to take that camera." Brendan gestured towards Lauren's chest.

Lauren blinked at them. "What are you talking about?"

"We have our orders, Ms. Strayer."

"Orders?" Lauren very nearly stamped her foot. "Christ, this is my party. Shouldn't I be allowed to take photographs?"

Jack and Brendan looked at each other and then back at Lauren as they both shook their heads.

Lauren's eyes narrowed.

Wordlessly, Jack opened the door, and a blast of wonderful-smelling food and pulse-pounding music nearly blew Lauren off her feet. She peered inside, her eyes growing wider with every second. "Oh, my God." Three dancers were bumping and grinding away alongside the pool, while onlookers hooted and howled their approval. Is that Beth? For a second Lauren was rendered mute, then a dark blush stained her cheeks and she quickly handed her camera to the smirking agents.

Smiling, she walked in, and Jack shut the door behind her. "When is someone coming to relieve you so you can go to the party?" He lifted the camera.

An enormous grin split Brendan's cheeks. "Half hour. Same as you. Heh. It's gonna be great."

Click. The flash went off as Jack took the picture of his smiling fellow agent.
 
Both men then faced forward, and their smiles disappeared as they projected their normal stoic demeanor, guarding some of the nation’s most interesting people.

*
 
*
 
*

After her shower, Dev killed another hour checking on the kids’ party and looking at some paperwork before she wandered into the multimedia room to find about two dozen of her friends and colleagues. A large table of food was set up; it looked like it had all her favorites. Pure, unadulterated junk. She had sympathetically been staying away from fattening foods while Lauren was dieting; she figured that David knew she was near the breaking point.

David placed a cold beer in her hand and patted her on the back. “Hiya, boss.” He waved a hand over the delectable spread that contained enough calories and grams of fat to end world hunger. “What’s your pleasure?”

“She’s having her own party by the pool.”

“I meant food.”

Dev lifted her chin. “I was speaking of dessert.”

“Dev…” he growled playfully, glancing around to see who might have heard.

“David,” she growled back with a grin, “cut me some slack and don’t mother me tonight. Let me relax. These people are my friends or else they wouldn’t be here.” She stepped closer to David. "Except for Michael Oaks. What the hell is he doing here?”

“I had to invite him, Devlyn,” he answered in a hushed voice. He chewed on his thick, red mustache unhappily. “It would have looked bad to the other staff members if I hadn’t.”

“I know.” Devlyn sighed. Then she had a thought. “Has he seen the food?”

David thought about that for a minute. “I don’t think so. He’s been over in the corner sulking because I wouldn’t let him plan this with me. He hasn’t been over here at all.”

“Hehehe. Good. This will give his Mr. Proper ass a heart attack.”

“Great idea!” David gestured towards the young social secretary. “Oh, Michael,” he called out. “Can you come here for a moment?”

Michael nodded and slowly got up from his seat. Everyone else was in casual clothes; he was still wearing a three-piece suit.

“I’ll bet he’s really hot.”