Aunt Gladys had never married or had children, but from the moment Zora had been born, she’d claimed her as the granddaughter of her heart. She exposed Zora to art and culture, paid for her college. She always supported Zora and her activist zeal, which is why she’d been dumbfounded at Zora’s decision to go work for Ethan.
“Be careful, baby. Power corrupts people. And it casts a wide net. Don’t get complacent and forget what you went there to do. Always remember who you are.”
That morning, surrounded by family and Aunt Gladys’s friends, Zora had believed she’d make it through the meeting emotionally sound. But when the attorney had uttered those words, a tsunami of tears had burned the back of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
She had forgotten who she was.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“You know who you are,” he said, his tone hesitant and confused.
“I know I do. Do you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you agree with what President Thayer said today? What he’s been saying since he announced his bid for the presidency?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why don’t you do something about it?” she pleaded, wishing she could infuse her conviction into him.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. You’re a member of a co-equal branch of government. You don’t work for him. You don’t have to stay silent when you don’t agree.”
“If I break from my party, how does that help me? I’d never get a seat on the Appropriations Committee.”
There it was. Ethan’s holy grail. The Senate Appropriations Committee. On his first day in office, Ethan had informed his key staff of his goal of acquiring the committee seat his father had declined because of his illness.
“And when you get it, what will you have?”
“I’ll have a seat on one of the most powerful committees in the world. I’ll be in the room.”
“Then what?”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Yes, you’ll be on the Senate Appropriations Committee. But Thayer may still be president, daily eroding the people’s confidence and respect for our institutions. What good will being on the committee be if no one respects the government anymore?”
“It’s not going to be like that, Zora,” Ethan said, leaving his seat and moving to sit next to her.
“Did you think it’d be like this? That we’d see these things? That after our first black president we’d be in a position where white nationalism would become mainstream?”
He shoved his hands through his hair. “You know how important that seat is to me and my father.”
“Ethan, your father’s mind is stuck thirty years ago. And I’m truly sorry about that. But you’re the senator now. You can’t afford to be so myopic in your thinking. Your actions affect more than you and your father. Your silence condones what Thayer says.”
“You know I hate what he says. We all do. You hear it every day in the hallways.”
“But the American people don’t hear it. All of your colleagues talk ‘off the record’ to reporters and it turns into this…incestuous little pool of policymakers whining, ‘Poor us, we’re trying to govern with a lunatic.’ Meanwhile, the real world is feeling the effects of your silence. People are being killed, parents are being separated from their children and now, he wants to round up brown people and place them in internment camps. And you can’t speak up because it’ll cost you a seat on a committee?”
Her breath came in short, rapid puffs as her heart slam danced in her chest. She closed her eyes and turned away from him, not wanting to see such carelessness overlaid onto the man she loved.
“Well, when you say it like that…”
“I don’t know any other way to say it,” she said.
“I can’t change anything by myself.”
“Why not? Throughout history, people have had tremendous influence on our world by standing up and doing what was right.”
“You expect too much from me,” he raged, shooting to his feet. “I’m one person. I just want to serve my constituents and give back. I’m not trying to start a movement.”
She tilted her head back to stare up at him. “Are you doing what’s best for your constituents or what’s best for your father?”
Her words landed like the verbal equivalent of the ice bucket challenge.
“Excuse me?” he said, his voice turning ominous, his gaze frosty.
“You keep talking about getting on the committee and what that would mean for your father. But you need to be re-elected to claim that seat. And Virginia has changed. It’s become more liberal. You’re the odd politician out. Your constituents want someone to stand up and fight. And if they don’t see you doing that, they’ll elect someone who will. Someone they can believe in.”
“So that’s why you’re leaving? Because you don’t believe in me anymore?”
“You don’t get it. That’s why I stayed. Because I believed. I waited, I hoped, and it didn’t bear out. I…I think you’re a wonderful man, Ethan. I have since the first day I met you. But I’ve made my decision. It doesn’t matter how much I lo—respect you. I hate what you’re doing even more.” She had to get away from him. She didn’t regret her decision, but saying this to him and knowing soon he wouldn’t be a part of her daily life? It was killing her.
She stood. “I think you should leave.”
When she started past him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to stand in front of him. His grip was strong, his fingers clasping her flesh. Tingles jolted up and down her arms, throwing her senses into a tizzy. God, she hated how her body responded to such a simple touch by him.
“What are you doing?” she managed to get out.
“What I should’ve done all those years ago.”
Her heart started beating. “Don’t do this.”
His thumb smoothed over her flesh “That night, at the party, I wanted to kiss you. But I was scared. I knew what it might mean and I…I had plans, and—”
She couldn’t take this. Couldn’t take his words. Couldn’t know that he depended her on so much he’d say anything to get her to stay. Especially when he didn’t mean it. “Please, Ethan. You need to let me go.”
“I can’t,” he said, the words wrenched from him as if he’d suddenly realized what he was feeling. He tugged her close.
She could’ve resisted.
She should’ve resisted.
But she didn’t.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. His hand cupped the back of her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair. She pressed Record in her mind; telling herself to remember all the small details of this moment. The way he tilted his head, the way his lashes fluttered down to rest thickly against his skin, the way his mouth parted.
And then there was no more thinking as his lips touched hers and she gave herself up to the sensation of being in his arms again. No matter what she’d ever imagined—and she’d imagined some hot shit—it couldn’t compare to reality. His lips were firm against hers and her body began to melt. She opened up and his tongue swept inside her mouth, tangling with her own.
One of them groaned, she wasn’t sure who, and he pulled her closer, his body large and strong and hot. Her hands itched to delve beneath the fabric separating them. To feel his hot skin over his muscles. To run her hands and her tongue over it all.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, allowing her to feel the thickness of his erection between them. She whimpered, her pussy clenching, it too wanting to know the feeling of fullness of joining with this man.
It was that thought that gave her the strength to push away from him. Because having sex with Ethan would only make this situation worse. Leaving him would be damn near impossible.
She pulled back. “You should go,” she said, crossing her arms across her middle.
He cupped her cheek, and his thumb brushed across her lower lip. “I can’t lose you, Z.�
�
She shook her head. “It’s too late.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth and, cursing softly, he kissed her again. Heat swirled in her lower belly, warming her, tempting her to lower her inhibitions. When he raised his head, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek.
“We’ll see about that,” he murmured.
And then he was gone.
5
“It’s too late.”
Was Zora right?
Ethan sat in the well-appointed reception area, one of several rooms that comprised the Majority Leader’s suite of offices, thoughts tumbling through his mind. Four wingback chairs and a matching settee were arranged around a marble fireplace topped by a large mirror gilded in gold. Above him hung an ornate chandelier, known to be the oldest in the Capitol. Aides whirled in and out of the office, taking calls, typing on computers, discussing legislation. The Majority Leader was a powerful man and his offices were a hub, of sorts, not only for Republican senators but for Democrats looking to get deals made and bills passed.
Ethan knew he should be more aware of his surroundings, more prepared for his meeting, but all he could think about was Zora. The thought of never seeing her again, of never hearing her voice or being in her presence, caused bile to rise in the back of his throat. He clenched his jaw so tightly his molars objected.
She was wrong. It wasn’t too late.
He wouldn’t let it be.
From the moment his lips touched Zora’s, he’d known he wouldn’t rest until he had her in his arms again. Why had it taken him so long to realize what he wanted? To acknowledge how he felt about her? The strong connection they’d had back at UVA—the one he’d been afraid to act on—had only matured in the three years they’d worked together. They’d spent hours together daily, until he knew her better than anyone else, cared for her more than anyone else.
He’d wasted so much fucking time. He was such a cliché. Only when he was at risk of losing her did he comprehend what she meant to him.
And those feelings weren’t one sided.
“It doesn’t matter how much I lo—respect you.”
She’d been about to say “love.” But he didn’t need to hear what she hadn’t allowed herself to say. Ethan could tell from the way she’d melted against his body, her eyes softening as she stared up at him, her tongue darting out to moisten her full lower lip…
Blood rushed to his cock and he shifted in his seat, crossing his legs in an effort to hide what was happening and prevent it from going further. He’d been in a constant state of arousal since last night and no amount of jerking himself off was going to ease him.
He needed Zora.
But for that to happen, he needed his brain fueled, not his dick.
Because while he knew she cared for him, he also believed her when she said she could no longer work for him if he continued to keep quiet about the president’s behavior. He hadn’t spent sixteen-hour days with her for years without learning to recognize when she’d made up her mind. If he didn’t do something, and fast, he was going to lose her.
The Majority Leader’s receptionist cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry, Senator. The Leader is finishing up his call. It’ll only be two more minutes.”
Raising a brow, Ethan checked his watch and uncrossed his legs. It had already been twenty-five minutes. What was another two?
As the receptionist predicted, a couple of minutes elapsed before a man hurried over to him. “The Leader will see you now.”
Ethan followed the staffer into an office larger than the other two rooms of the suite combined. Robert Webster stood in front of his chair, an older, slender man with unremarkable features and of average height. But his non-descriptiveness belied the influence and clout he wielded. He’d been in the Senate for thirty-five years and one didn’t remain in DC that long, let alone get to the position of Majority Leader, without knowing where the bodies were buried.
Especially since he’d put his fair share in the earth himself.
Webster waved Ethan over, then shook his hand. “Sorry about that, Humphries. As you can imagine, the past twenty-four hours have been a bit of a shit show.”
Ethan nodded and took one of the two seats across from Webster’s large, sturdy desk. “I understand.”
“Coffee? Water?”
“No, thank you.”
“How’s your father doing?”
It took everything Ethan had not to flinch. Back before the disease had taken over, his father would’ve loved to know where Ethan was. The idea that his son would finally get a seat on the committee he’d yearned to be a part of…
These days, his father didn’t recognize him, and if he did, he thought Ethan was a cousin Edward had grown up with. His chest tightened and his eyes burned. What was so wrong with a son wanting to do something to honor his father?
“He has his good days and his bad.”
Though the good days were few and far between, that was none of Webster’s business.
The majority leader shook his head. “Such a shame. He was a fabulous politician.”
Ethan’s grip tightened on the arm of his chair, but he nodded. “That he was.”
“Now, the reason I called you here.” Webster slapped his desk with his palm. “You’ve done good work. You’ve put your head down and made smart decisions. You’re a rising star and we’ve all noticed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’ve been clear about your desire to sit on the Appropriations committee, but I haven’t had a spot open…until now.”
Ethan’s pulse took off like a prize thoroughbred going for the Triple Crown. “Oh?”
“Hanley is retiring,” Webster said, his tone and the ticking muscle in his jaw suggesting he wasn’t pleased with the development.
David had called it!
Though filled with euphoria, Ethan forced himself to remain calm and drew his brows together, as if confused. “That’s too bad. Do you know why?”
Webster’s lip curled. “Why are ten other Republican senators considering retirement? The moron in the White House.”
Ethan couldn’t hide his shock. He’d never heard the Majority Leader say or do anything other than exhibit his support for President Thayer. In the two years since the president had been elected, Webster had never wasted an opportunity to publicly defend the man, whether it was speaking on TV or the Senate floor, or even going as far as to refuse to put up certain bills for a vote if he knew Thayer wouldn’t sign them. Hearing Webster call the president a moron—though true—was like hearing Barney Rubble disparage Fred Flintstone.
It just didn’t compute.
“Close your mouth, Humphries. I’m loyal to my party, but I’m not an idiot. That man—and his administration—is a farce.”
Zora’s voice filled his mind. “All of your colleagues talk ‘off the record’ to reporters… Meanwhile, the real world is feeling the effects of your silence. People are being killed, parents are being separated from their children…”
Anger began simmering along his nerve endings. “But you put the fear of God into anyone who even thinks of speaking out against the president.”
“It’s not about the man; I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. But he commands the base right now. And as long as that remains true, he’ll have my public support.”
“You weren’t elected to support him. You were elected to represent the people of your state.”
“And the Republicans in my state voted for him overwhelmingly.” Webster exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “I’m the Senate Majority Leader. Do you know how powerful that is? How long it took me to get here? Opposing Thayer means losing my job, and I’m not about to let that happen.”
“But his rhetoric is tearing this country apart.”
Webster waved a dismissive hand. “He’s crazy, but we’ve made major gains. We now have the majority on the Supreme Court, meaning we’ll finally have a Court who will enforce all the limits on governmental power and control contained in
the Constitution. Plus, we’ve passed the biggest tax plan in years. That’s happened because of him.”
“Or in spite of him,” Ethan muttered.
“Politics isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon. You’ve got to bide your time. I thought you understood that. If you don’t…” Webster shrugged. “Look, I’d like nothing more than to welcome you on the Appropriations committee if you win the election.”
Ethan eyed him. “I’d like nothing more than to accept.”
But—
“You need to do something for me,” Webster said.
Ethan offered up a silent prayer. Don’t ask me.
“I need you to appear on a couple of TV shows in support of the president.”
Fuck!
“Sir, I don’t—”
“The president made a few statements yesterday that were a bit…insensitive,” Webster said, rushing in before Ethan could finish. “I can’t send Cox out there after the scandal about his affair with his nanny and her abortion, and Clark took one for the team after the president’s comment about pulling troops from the Middle East. We need a fresh face, someone who screams trustworthiness and earnestness, and that’s you. You’ve managed to avoid it, but now we need you to do your part for the party.”
Webster didn’t care about the party—he only cared about his own power. Maybe Ethan could appeal to him that way. Explain how this could be bad for both of them.
“Mr. Leader, I’ll be walking a fine line as it is. I’m the only Republican senator in Virginia. If I explicitly support the president, I could lose the election. You’d lose my seat to a Democrat, lose control of the Senate, and no longer be Majority Leader.”
Again, Webster only shrugged. “Do you know how many fires I have to put out? Budget bills aren’t the only things I have to ‘kick the can’ on. I’ll very well have to deal with the possibility of losing the majority, but that’s further down my list. Right now, I have to do damage control because of our toddler commander in chief. That’s my primary concern.”
Son of a bitch!
Rogue Ever After (The Rogue Series Book 7) Page 4