Inferno Anthology

by Gow, Kailin

  “I’ll take you home so you can pack a bag. We’re hitting the trail tomorrow,” he said, as he zipped up his pants and tucked his polo back into his jeans. He picked up my dress and handed it to me.

  “What about your wife?” I asked. I had to ask. If I was going to accompany him on the campaign trail I had to know if I was risking having my name and dress size plastered across the covers of tabloid magazines.

  His eyes bore into me, probably trying to figure out the subtext beneath my question. “My wife and I haven’t so much as breathed on each other the entire time we’ve been married. My wife has been in love with another man since before she even met me, rather, before she was hired by my campaign manager.”

  I began to wonder why such a handsome, powerful man had to hire a wife and an escort. Then I realized it probably had to do with the fact that you can buy silence. Is that what he wanted me for: my silence?

  “Don’t let all those questions brewing inside your mind stand in the way of the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said, as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I’m not going to be the president forever.”

  Part 2

  Disclosure

  Chapter 1

  Carrying on a secret affair with the most wanted politician in America was tricky at best. At it’s worst, my affair with presidential candidate Chase Underwood would be a racing nightmare of primping and prepping for one publicity event after another. At it’s best, our affair was the naughtiest, most pleasurable relationship I’d ever been in.

  Relationship.

  Chase’s word, not mine. The word was plastered all over the nondisclosure agreement he had presented to me last night, right after giving me multiple orgasms with his talented tongue.

  “That’s not fair,” I had said, as he insisted I read aloud sections fifteen through nineteen while he lightly kissed every inch of my body. “‘Number fifteen: Recipient shall submit to Candidate’s requests, whether related to the Campaign or sexual in nature, in a timely manner; preferably, as soon as such request is made.’” I paused and reread the sentence to myself to make sure I had read it correctly. “What is this?” I asked, as he kissed the inside of my knee.

  The hotel lamp cast a soft, golden glow over his brown hair and reflected brilliantly off the few gray hairs he refused to dye.

  “I just want to make sure we’re clear on the terms of this relationship,” he said, his lips moving lightly over my knee to the top of my thigh. “Keep reading.”

  He slid his hand over my abdomen until he reached my breast. My back arched as my fingers clenched tightly around the sheets of our hotel bed and the contract in my other hand.

  I swallowed my pleasure and continued. “‘Number sixteen: Recipient shall submit to regular mental, physical, and dental health examinations. Recipient shall also maintain her physical and mental health through regular exercise, healthy diet, therapeutic spa treatments, and, if necessary, regular sessions with a clinical therapist.’” I stopped reading and Chase chuckled, as if he knew what I was about to say. “Therapy?”

  “Come now, Larissa. I see a therapist. I’m not implying you need one, but it gets pretty stressful when the campaign is running at full tilt. I want you to know that if you need to talk to anyone, other than me, I can provide that. All my staffers get full health benefits.”

  “Of course, they do. What would the press think if you didn’t provide your employees health care when you’re out there stumping for single payer?”

  “You’ve been doing your homework.” He kissed my hipbone, sending a shiver through me that stiffened my nipples. “Keep reading. I love listening to your voice.”

  “‘Number seventeen: Recipient shall address Candidate respectfully at all times, in public as ‘Sir’ and in private as ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. President’.’” My mouth went slack with shock. “In private? Are you kidding?”

  His tongue traced a ring around my nipple and the cool air in the hotel room made my entire body shiver.

  “Say it.”

  “No.”

  “Larissa.” His erection grazed my thigh as he slithered up and kissed my collarbone. “You’re being a very bad girl.”

  “Don’t you mean I’m being a very bad recipient?”

  “Don’t make me bring out my paddle.”

  Something about this sentence threw me over the edge. “Put it in,” I murmured.

  “What’s the magic word?”

  “Put it in, please… Mr. President.”

  He slid into me and I moaned as I tossed the contract to the floor.

  “Say it again.”

  “Mr. President,” I said, relishing the feel of the word on my tongue as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Faster, please, Mr. President.”

  The air inside the private jet was too warm and smelled too strongly of leather and French roast coffee. Three days spent with Chase and I already knew his favorite brand of coffee, his shoe size, and the password to his Facebook profile. He gave me a long list of his internet passwords, which I would be using to check his emails, Tweet for him, and post status updates on his behalf. I had gone from rookie escort to Senior Personal Assistant to the future president of the United States in less than a week.

  I kept going over the five extra clauses tacked onto my nondisclosure agreement in my head and wondering what I’d gotten myself into. The last clause in the NDA was obviously the most important.

  19. Recipient agrees all aspects of her relationship with Candidate, whether related to Campaign or sexual in nature, must be kept confidential, unless Agreement is declared null and void by Candidate. In the event of the Candidate’s untimely death, Recipient shall remain bound by this Agreement for not less than seven years.

  Chase came back to our cabin after his chat with the pilot, adjusting his tie and looking very pleased with himself. “The pilot says we have nothing but clear skies ahead of us. Maryland, here we come.”

  He sat in the seat next to me and immediately pulled out his iPhone to check his emails.

  “I can do that,” I said, pulling out the new iPhone he purchased for me two days ago.

  He smiled at me as he tucked his phone into his coat pocket and leaned toward me. “You can do that…?”

  “I can do that, Sir,” I murmured, as he kissed the corner of my mouth.

  He planted a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and sat back. “Fasten your seat belt, Larissa. I’m a strong believer in the old adage safety first.”

  I’ll bet you are. After all, that was the whole point of the NDA, wasn’t it?

  My heart hammered as the plane roared down the runway. I hated airplanes. As soon as we were at cruising height, Chase removed his seat belt then reached over and undid mine.

  “Come with me.”

  I followed him through a locked door toward the rear of the plane. We passed through a cabin where twelve staffers sat in equally luxurious accommodations.

  As we passed, Chase squeezed the shoulder of a young fellow with curly hair hunched over a computer. “Don’t work so hard, Isa. Relax a little or you’ll scare off the young ladies.”

  Isa grinned sheepishly. “Just checking the latest polls, Sir.”

  “Larissa, this is Heather Rodin,” Chase said, as we came to the back of the cabin where a mousy girl was busy typing a message into her phone. “Heather works for the Times. She’s doing a feature on my visit to Maryland. I told her she could speak to you tomorrow, after you’ve become more acquainted with my staff and the campaign. I thought you two should meet before we land and they whisk us all off to separate hotel rooms.”

  Heather cocked her eyebrow as she held out her hand to me. Her hand was tiny and a bit clammy. “Nice to meet you, Larissa. I look forward to speaking with the newest, closest member of Chase’s campaign.”

  “Likewise. Pleasure meeting you, Heather. By the way, I love your shoes. I have a pair just like those in the nude color. Had to leave them at home to conserve space in my luggage. You have great taste
.”

  Heather smirked at my compliment as I turned to follow Chase back to our private cabin. As soon as he closed and locked the door he cast a sly grin in my direction.

  “Very smooth complimenting the reporter. Thank you.”

  “Thank my acting coach.”

  “I already did thank your acting coach.”

  “Shut up!” I said, playfully punching him in the arm.

  He laughed as he took a seat on the leather sofa and began loosening his tie. “Truth be told, Heather is something of a thorn in my side. She contacted my publicist yesterday at the last minute and we couldn’t really say no after that big speech about transparency last week.”

  I took a seat next to him and reached across to help him with his tie. “She seems a bit nosy and suspicious, if you ask me. I mean, what makes her think I’m the closest member of your campaign? I think Teddy qualifies for that position.”

  Teddy Holt was Chase’s bullish campaign manager, known for making staffers weep with his quick abrasive wit and impossible deadlines. He was already in Maryland waiting for us. Just the thought of meeting him today made me want to cry.

  Chase pulled me onto his lap as I slipped his tie off. “Right now, I think you’re much more qualified for that position.”

  He kissed me hard as he clutched my hair, which was newly cut and dyed at Chase’s request.

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good girl,” he replied, as he slid me off his lap. “Now bend over so I can show you what will happen if I ever catch you wearing panties with a skirt.”

  18. Recipient shall be subject to occasional light physical punishment from Candidate. Punishment will be issued with Recipient’s safety in mind and may include, but is not limited to, spanking, whipping, choking, and application of physical restraints. Should such punishment become too much for Recipient to handle, Recipient agrees to use safe words. Recipient will use the safe word “yellow” when punishment should slow down or ease up. Recipient will use the word “red” when punishment should stop immediately.

  I bent over the sofa with my feet planted firmly on the floor. He yanked my skirt up, exposing my cheeks. The first two spankings were light and I could feel my lips becoming slick with my juices. The third smack stung quite a bit.

  “More?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Later,” he said, as he bent over me and kissed the sensitive spot behind my ear. He turned me around so I fell back onto the sofa then he spread my legs and gazed at me hungrily. “Now it’s time to reward you for being such a fast learner.”

  Chapter 2

  The flight landed in Maryland ahead of schedule, which gave me less time than I wanted to fix my hair and makeup after my romp with Chase. The ride to the hotel was awkward. His driver, George, had to take a later flight out of L.A. due to personal issues. We had to take a government-issued motorcade to the hotel, which had to be swept for explosives four times. Inside the car, we had to keep our interactions strictly business.

  I kept glancing across the leather seat of the limousine at his perfectly shined shoes, his soft manicured hands, his strong shoulders, and that freshly shaven chiseled face. I wanted to tell him how hot he looked. I wanted him to tell me how beautiful I looked. I never felt more beautiful.

  From the stylish haircut and mani-pedi to the expensive designer clothes Chase’s stylist handpicked for me, I looked like a different person. I looked like the person I had always dreamed of becoming since I left Florida to make it in Hollywood. I should be ecstatic, but something felt off and I knew exactly what it was.

  Mrs. Katherine Underwood.

  Chase’s wife was still his wife and, even if Chase and my old roommate (and the tabloids) claimed they had never been intimate together, I found this hard to believe when I looked at pictures of them kissing on the lips and holding hands. Maybe Chase was just a better actor than I was, but I couldn’t imagine pretending to be in love with someone.

  “Katherine will be flying in tomorrow,” Chase said, breaking the silence in the limo and delivering a painful jolt to my heart. “Please set up a reminder to have George pick her up at the airstrip at 10:30.”

  I slipped my phone out of my purse and punched in the reminder. “Done.”

  He could have told me this in the airplane when there wasn’t a ten-ton elephant named Katherine sitting between us. He probably only mentioned it now to keep up appearances with the stranger driving the car.

  The Secret Service agent opened the door for me and I was immediately taken with how handsome he appeared in his crisp suit and dark sunglasses. As I exited the limo, I brushed past him and caught a whiff of his clean aftershave. Maybe I should just give up on Chase and go for someone more in my league, someone not destined to break my heart.

  The hotel was one of the newer, more understated and modern hotels in the center of Baltimore. Chase refused to stay in places like the Four Seasons because he didn’t want to be seen as stodgy or pretentious. The sparkle of the glass revolving doors made me dizzy.

  As his new assistant, I had to pick up Chase’s room keys, make sure his baggage was delivered to the room, and tip the bellhop very well. All this had to be done while Chase raced to a meeting with the mayor of Baltimore to discuss arrangements for tomorrow’s rally.

  “Let’s take my luggage to my room first,” I told the bellhop as we entered the elevator. “We’ll deliver Ch—we’ll deliver the senator’s bags after that.”

  Someone jammed her arm through the elevator doors just as they were about to close. Heather Rodin entered the cabin and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

  “Oh, hi, Larissa,” she said, feigning surprise at finding me in the same elevator. “A lot of luggage you’ve got there.”

  I smiled at her thinly disguised attempt to rattle me. “The senator is in a meeting with Mayor Johnson. Just doing my duty and making sure his luggage arrives in his room.”

  “Your duty.” She pursed her lips as she glanced at my hair then she reached up and smoothed down a piece of my hair. “I always come out of airplanes with my hair in disarray. Did you cut your hair recently? I’m looking for a new stylist and I love this new look of yours.”

  New look? How did she know this was a new look for me?

  I tried to regulate my breathing, but my heart was beating too quickly.

  “Sorry. I don’t know the name of the stylist. Senator Underwood’s personal stylist made the appointment for me. I merely showed up and sat my butt in the chair.”

  A victorious smile tugged at one corner of her lips as I nervously blurted this reply. The elevator stopped at the fifth floor and she turned to me. “Relax, Larissa. The campaign’s only going to get more intense from here on out.”

  She exited the elevator and disappeared down the corridor as the elevator doors closed. I glanced at the bellhop, who could surely sense the tension, but he was staring at the flashing floor numbers above the doors.

  Why were elevator rides with strangers so awkward? So you had to stand next to a stranger for a few seconds in a confined space. Did we really need to completely avoid eye contact?

  “She’s a reporter,” I said, breaking the silence as the elevator climbed toward the seventeenth floor.

  “Yeah, I got the academic vibe from the awful shoes she was wearing,” he replied with a grin and I laughed as I thought about how I’d lied when I told her I owned the same pair in a different color.

  I would have to tip William the bellhop extra for helping me loosen up a little. After we delivered my luggage to my room, we got back in the elevator to head for the penthouse. The elevator doors opened and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  The penthouse looked like an ultra-swanky apartment that would be featured in Modern Home magazine with a gleaming kitchen, a floating staircase, and a wall of windows that showed off a mind-blowing view of the Atlantic Ocean. I stepped inside and my eyes widened at the sight of the waterfall that seemed to come out of the wall
and disappeared into the floor. My heels clicked against the concrete flooring.

  William rolled the luggage trolley into the room and began unloading the luggage as I gravitated toward the view. Most of what I saw from this vantage point was rooftops and traffic jams, but somewhere out there inside one of those buildings Chase was shaking hands with the mayor and discussing things no doubt beyond my pay grade. I glanced to my left and saw a bed clothed in sumptuous white linens and suspended above the floor by steel cables. Would Chase and Katherine be sleeping there tomorrow night?

  “Ahem. Miss Jacobs.”

  I shook off this dreary thought and joined William near the elevator door where I handed him two hundred-dollar bills from the wad of cash Chase gave me for “incidentals”. Suddenly, I was beginning to feel more and more like a prostitute.

  The elevator door opened and William scurried inside as if he were afraid I would discover I’d given him too much money. “Are you going down, Miss?”

  I stared at him for a moment as he held the door for me. “Oh, yes, of course. Seventeenth floor.”

  My phone vibrated as I entered my room. It was a text message from Chase.

  Chase:

  Make dinner reservations for two

  at Dillon’s Steakhouse for 8 p.m.

  I quickly pulled up my reservations app and made the reservation before I responded.

  Larissa:

  Done… Sir.

  I waited four minutes for a thank-you reply that never came. I tucked the phone back into the inner pocket of my blazer and sighed as I collapsed onto the bed. This was going to be a very long three days.

  Chapter 3

  After peeling myself off the bed, I spoke to George to arrange for him to pick up Katherine tomorrow morning and called Dillon’s to confirm tonight’s reservation. Then I called the local television station to make sure Chase’s speech had been delivered. My final call was to room service to ask them to deliver some wine and fruit to the penthouse at eleven p.m. I had to at least pretend to be good at my new job.