Phoenix (24 page)

“What was that, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Don’t stop.”

“You have an expansive vocabulary but those are two of your favorite words, aren’t they?”

She pushed his hand toward her clit, gritting her teeth. “Please.” She was so fucking close she could barely stand it.

He grinned. “Message received.” He rubbed against her clit. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.” She shifted forward and he pulled her down roughly, impaling her on his cock. She cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Isn’t this better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Much.”

He stroked her clit. “Are you close?”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I want this.” She rose slowly and he pulled her back down.

“No.” Jack thrust inside her. “I like this better.”

She lifted herself up and he pushed her back down, over and over, until she was crying out his name and clawing and biting at him. She could see the marks on his neck from her teeth. He stopped, starting to stroke her clit again.

“You first,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking close and I want to watch you come. I want to feel it.” He caressed her gently and she nipped at his neck once more, convulsing against him. Short, sweet, and spectacular. She hadn’t needed a giant orgasm. She just wanted him inside her. Her body slackened and Jack smiled as she ran her fingers across his cheek toward his lips, slipping them inside his mouth.

He bit down before pulling them out and kissing them lightly. “Okay?”

“Give me a minute,” Caroline mumbled.

“Not a chance. My turn.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and guided her to the floor. “One of my favorite positions,” he grunted. “Yours too.”

Did he want her to talk? “I-”

“Do you know what it feels like when you come when I’m inside you? All hot and wet and tight?”

Oh, God. Was he going to keep talking while he was fucking her? She hoped so. She whispered his name and he clutched her hands in his, raising them above her head.

“I want to make you come again,” he whispered. “How many orgasms can I coax out of you tonight?”

When he said that he usually tried for double digits. She wasn’t sure she had the energy for that. Jack moved inside her and she screamed.

“Do that,” he said. “Be as loud as you want, and I’ll keep going.”

He would keep on saying those things, staying inside her, waiting for her to react to his voice. She didn’t know how much she could take.

“Please,” she choked out. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He tugged at her hair. “Anything you say,” he groaned, thrusting in and out, harder and harder, until he spurted inside her in a shudder.

It took her a minute to recover. She thought he’d hold out longer, maybe give her another orgasm or three, but his stamina was far from gone. Caroline ran her hands down his back as he trailed kisses from her neck to her ear.

“Those groupies are no competition for you, Caroline,” he panted. “None.”

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around him and laughed, looking to her side. “We’re like a foot from the bed. You couldn’t have dragged me there first?”

“I like fucking you on the floor better. The floor, the wall, the chair, the bathtub, the shower, the couch…don’t even get me started on our house in Philadelphia. Although the bed is occasionally nice.”

Jack pulled her to a sitting position on the floor and Caroline glanced down at his pants. “That’ll be an interesting visit to the dry cleaner,” she said.

“She’s a wonderfully discreet woman.” He kissed her, slow and gentle. Soft. The kind of kiss that meant he’d want more later. “I love you, sweetheart.”

Caroline smiled as he withdrew from her and stood up. “You’re saying that because I give you blow jobs any time you want.”

“You’ll also do me on the carpet.”

“No rug burn this time, though.”

“No. But we can always try again.” He pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Are we going to sleep?”

He laughed. “What do you think?”

*              *              *              *              *

Caroline rolled over, trying to figure out what was going on. Why was it so hard to move?

Oh, because she had her fucking hand down her shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, running her other hand through her hair. When was the last time that had happened? Not in months. Maybe over a year. Why was it happening now, of all times?

Don’t think about him. Don’t. Think about something, anything else.

She flashed to her cell at The Fed.

Except that. Don’t think about that.

She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around her pillow, hoping she’d be able to get back to sleep. Hoping she wouldn’t dream of Jack, or anyone else. Hoping she could stop thinking about all the things that hurt.

*              *              *              *              *

“When I told you to ask Jack to put me on a statewide task force, I was kidding,” Christine said.

Caroline smiled. “Are you saying there are things you’d rather do with your day than sit through a three hour meeting on crime statistics and hot zone mapping?”

Christine made a very unladylike face. “You’re the one who loves that wonky stuff. Next time make me a figurehead or the grand marshal of a parade or something.”

“You love it,” Caroline said. “And you wore the same color as me. Nice.”

They were both sporting navy blue suits and white blouses, though Caroline’s had faint red stripes. Along with two stunning pairs of red patent leather heels. Totally unplanned.

Kathleen laughed at the two of them as she snapped a picture. “You forgot to send each other the memo about matching outfits,” she said. “I’m posting this on Twitter. Just need to think of a tasteless hashtag first.”

“You’d better check with Chrissy,” Caroline said. “You know how picky she is.”

Her chief of staff gave her the most innocent look she could manage. Very impressive. “About hashtags or about photos?” Kathleen asked.

Caroline grinned. “What the fuck do you think?”

“Language, Caroline. Really.” Christine pointed at the phone in Kathleen’s hand. “Did you at least get my good side?”

Kathleen studied the image. “I think so. Your hair looks phenomenal.”

“Then it’s fine.”

“Good. I was going to post it no matter what you said.”

Christine turned to Caroline. “I find your chief of staff a wee bit obnoxious.”

Such remarkable restraint. “Just a wee bit?”

“I’m trying to be polite.”

“Please don’t be polite. I need you to be snarky today. In your zone, if you will.”

“Snarky? Zone?”

Kathleen chuckled. “The intern. Oh, the intern. Caroline, give it a rest.”

“Intern?” Christine asked. “You mean that young woman I saw on the way in here? The one in the skirt?”

Caroline turned to Kathleen. “See? It’s not just me.”

“Senator Sullivan is a square. Are you sure you want to be on the same page as her? No offense,” Kathleen said to Christine.

“None taken.” Christine frowned. “I had no idea they sold pleather miniskirts anymore. Or that anyone would think they were appropriate business dress.”

“Yes!” Caroline exclaimed. “Exactly.”

Christine picked a stray hair from Caroline’s suit jacket. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about an intern. Honestly, Punky. You think she’s any competition for you? Jack would never do anything like that.”

“I know,” she said, touched that her best friend had such faith in Jack. Caroline knew she could trust her husband but was glad Chrissy had gotten on the bandwagon too. “I just find Kelsey annoying. I wanted someone to kvetch with.”

“Oh, I’ll kvetch,” Christine said. “I’ll kvetch until the cows come home. I might have done it even if you said you liked her.”

Chrissy was always a good blend of loyalty and frank honesty. Caroline patted her arm. “You don’t need to kvetch per se. Just be yourself.”

“How’s that?”

Oh, Christine was begging for Caroline to return the favor. “You know. Intimidating. Bitchy. Unapproachable. Catty.”

“Such nice things for you to say to the bestie you haven’t seen in almost a month.”

Caroline gave her a little hug to reassure her a little. “I live to give.”

“What is going on with this Kelsey girl?”

There was no time to tell the whole story. It might be better to let Christine do her thing without much guidance. “Just pay attention. That’s all I ask.”

Kathleen cleared her throat. “We should probably head over there. We don’t want to be late.”

That was definitely a hint that they were running behind. “Then let’s go,” Caroline said.

Christine scooped up her purse. “Jeanine is waiting for us.” She had retained her campaign manager as her chief of staff, an interesting decision since Jeanine had never served in that capacity with anyone else. But the two of them seemed to be doing all right.

“I’m hurt that she didn’t want to see my office,” Caroline said.

“She’s recovering from all the time she spent with you during the campaign. But her therapist says she’s making a significant amount of progress.”

“Good. Snark it up, Chrissy. Use it. Feel it. Be it.”

Christine laughed as they entered the conference room. “We’re the first ones here. I’m not sure that’s ever happened before.”

When they were in Congress, the two of them often sauntered into meetings late. A habit that Caroline blamed entirely on Christine. She saw Chrissy’s chief of staff in a chair near the back of the room. “Hi, Jeanine.”

Jeanine nodded her hello and resumed checking her email.

“You weren’t kidding,” Caroline whispered.

Christine raised her eyebrows. “Of course I wasn’t.”

“Katie, are you going to hang out here during the meeting?” Caroline asked.

“I very well might,” Kathleen said. “Although I do want to finish that paper clip sculpture I started yesterday.”

Christine took one of the chairs at the table. “You two are bored out of your minds, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes.” Caroline slid into the seat next to Christine. “But we have a decent amount of fun.”

Christine pulled a copy of
Vanity Fair
out of her purse. “Have you seen this yet?”

“What is it?”

Christine handed the magazine to her. “It’s a lovely profile of the Governor and First Lady of Pennsylvania.”

She’d forgotten about that interview. “Is it any good?”

“See for yourself.”

Caroline examined the cover. A breathtaking image of the two of them, with Jack sitting down and her standing next to him. He had his arm around her while she kept her elbow perched on his shoulder. They looked stunning, if she said so herself. Definitely more Hollywood than Harrisburg. It was mesmerizing. Would it be rude to contact the photographer to ask for a print? “I know this sounds shallow and anti-feminist, but God bless the man who invented the airbrush.”

“How do you know it wasn’t a woman?” Christine asked.

“You’re right. That was presumptuous of me. God bless the man or woman who invented the airbrush, and the man or woman who invented smoky eye makeup. I look sexy.” Caroline flipped through the pages. She caught a few images of her and Jack – her giving the keynote address at the Democratic convention, a shot of the two of them at their wedding, one from Jack’s inaugural, pictures from his years at Villanova and Wharton, a family portrait taken the previous spring, and a fantastic photo of Jack spontaneously lifting Caroline up in the air after he’d won the governor’s race.

Christine laughed. “There are some great older pictures of you in here too, including when you were a federal prosecutor. But this is by far my favorite. I’d never seen it before.”

She pointed at the page and Caroline looked closer. A grayscale photo of her and Nicky from the night she scored her upset win in the Democratic primary during her first election, captured at the precise moment she realized her victory. The surprise and elation on her face was priceless. Nicky looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“I was so young,” Caroline said. “Wow.”

“How old were you, anyway?” Christine asked.

“Hmm, thirty-one? Katie was like twelve.”

“I was twenty-two,” Kathleen said. “That’s the only reason you let me drink.”

“You looked about twelve back then. Too bad you’re not in the picture.”

“Don’t you remember what I was doing?”

Caroline laughed and turned to Christine. “Nicky had been holding Sophie but passed her off since she was getting a little fussy and Katie was a total toddler whisperer. Feef then promptly pooped her diaper.”

Kathleen grimaced. “That was unnatural. Jen had to help me out because I had no idea what I was doing. Toddler whisperer my ass. Nick knew she was ready to blow and wanted to abdicate responsibility.”