The Senator's Secret (A Presidential Affair Book 1)

by Jennifer Rebecca

  Cara hands me a black velvet box. I snap it open and see two huge diamond solitaire earrings set on gold posts. They perfectly match the diamond bracelet Jake gave me last week. My heart beats a little faster. I can’t believe he’s given me another lavish gift. Even though I enjoy the finer things, I’m not the kind of girl to expect them from a lover. If someone buys me jewelry, it’s probably me. But Jake has this way of making me feel special when he gives me gifts. That is, until he doesn’t. I’m still smarting from the fake engagement, and an ugly voice in the back of my brain asks how many of his former paramours are walking around the tri-state area with diamond bracelet consolation prizes.

  I slip the earrings through my ears, and she wraps the bracelet around my right wrist so my engagement ring is the only thing on my left hand. And then she hands me a bagful of under garments. I look at them and then look back at her, unsure if she’s playing a joke on me.

  “Is this really what you want me to put on?” I ask.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because these belong to a kindergarten teacher?”

  “No.” She laughs. “Just put them on.”

  I step into a plain pair of nude briefs and tuck my breasts into a matching bra. The most exciting part is the nude thigh-highs I roll up my legs; otherwise, the entire look is awful.

  “I have it!” Carter shouts as he runs into the room with a garment bag held up high. “I have the dress!”

  “Oh my God,” Cara squeals. “Let me see it!”

  He loops the hanger over the back of the door and unzips the bag. And I stop breathing. The dress is black with a crew neckline and long sleeves. It would be demure if the entire top wasn’t completely sheer except for strategically placed sprays of vines stitched with tiny gold beads. The skirt is sold but is row after row of vertical black ruffles that flow like tiny waves.

  “Help me, Carter,” Cara says. “It’s going to take both of us to get it on her.”

  And it does. In the end, I just stand there like a mannequin while they push and pull the fabric to coax it into the right place before they do up the invisible zipper. It fits like a glove. Like it was custom made for me. I stare at myself in the full-length mirror while Cara bustles around me, unpinning my hair and smoothing it into soft waves like it was the other night but better.

  “Now the shoes,” Carter says before popping the lid off a brand-new Louboutin box. They are nude, sky-high pumps with a pointed toe and a skinny strap that crosses the top of the foot.

  “You speak my love language, Carter.”

  “Not me, Senator Chancellor.”

  Jake, who always pays attention, who always sees me before I see it myself, realized I favor a very expensive brand of designer heels and bought me a pair. I’m not sure what to make of this situation that has become my life. I should just say thank you and move on, but I can’t help feeling like the other shoe is about to drop.

  Instead of asking the important questions, I slip on my new shoes and head down the stairs to take some fabulous fucking engagement pictures. Jake is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs in a dark-blue suit with a white shirt underneath and the collar open at the neck.

  He’s looking at something on his phone, but when Rick says my name and nods in my direction, Jake looks up, and the world just seems to stop. He tucks his phone in his pocket and makes his way to me.

  “You are beautiful,” he says when I hit the bottom step.

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  “It was nothing,” he replies.

  “The photographer is here,” Rick calls from the entryway.

  Jake and I decided we wanted to take pictures out back in the small garden that is attached to the property. Sarge waits for us. He has been brushed and washed and looks handsome as ever. The photographer has us walk through the trees side by side. She poses us on a path, looking like we’ve been caught in a romantic clinch, when she definitely arranged us that way. And then last, a set of formal poses where we are sitting on the brick steps leading up to the house with Sarge by our sides. I love all of it, but I think the last one will be what gets sent to the different news outlets.

  We look perfect in every way.

  “Looks Like Love is in the Air for America’s Favorite IT Couple.”

  Chapter 18

  Be real

  “Congratulations!” another well-wisher greets me. I’m not sure who most of these people are. Friends and family of Jake’s, I guess.

  By the time the weekend rolled around, our engagement had been the talk of every news outlet in the country and some overseas as well. People wanted to know if it was love at first sight or if it was a shotgun wedding. They wanted to know if I was his mistress when he was with Ashley. That one bothered me more than it should, but whatever.

  This last-minute engagement party for the ages was the evil brainchild of Rick and Jake’s dad. I’m not entirely comfortable being the center of attention, but it is what it is. I should have known when I asked Jake for help all those weeks ago, it would cost me the life I previously lived. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

  It’s a lovely event. Smaller than I would have thought they were capable of organizing. Only those important enough to be invited were, to the small-ish event at Tavern on the Green. I am surprised to see the partners from my firm here. That was nice of the senior senator to invite them, even if I basically don’t work there anymore. They greet me politely, if not a little distantly, before moving on. I shrug it off. I would probably come to an event like this to meet an infamous senator as well.

  The invitee who surprises me most is Mark Jeffries, Ashley’s father. The thing about New York elite is that they all know each other. I wonder if it gets old being surrounded by the same small group of people all the time. Thank God I have Jules and Cara and Carter, or I would go absolutely mad. Although, I have never been part of the elite. I have always been on the outside, elbowing my way in or hidden in the trenches, cleaning up their messes. I’m not sure I appreciate this new status update. Either way, I can’t help but take in the people in this room and wonder if one of them was the person who tried to ruin me. Are they still out there, waiting for their pound of flesh? Half the people in this room, I’ve saved from near disaster, and the other half I’ve beaten the pants off of in the courtroom. It’s hard to tell. It could be anyone.

  “Good evening, Mr. Jeffries,” I greet him when he steps in front of me after the last person I was talking to steps away. He smiles tightly and presses his mouth into a thin line. It’s like he’s trying to hold back his self-entitled sneer and is struggling under its weight. I see he and his daughter share several charming qualities.

  “Let’s not waste time here with small talk,” he says to me, his voice low and biting. “How much will it take?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What’s your price?” he pushes.

  I can’t imagine what he’s asking about. Why is he at my engagement party if he doesn’t even like me? The questions bounce around in my head like a pinball.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I tell him honestly.

  “Christ, you’re as stupid as they say you are,” he bites out, and I think my patience has run thin where he’s concerned.

  “Your presence is unnecessary at my engagement party,” I inform him in my most haughty tone. “Please feel free to leave at any time.”

  “You don’t know who you’re messing with, little girl. I could see you ruined,” he says, and my mind flashes back to the blackmail letter.

  I never heard from them again, and I can’t believe I put it out of my head. Could Jeffries be the blackmailer?

  “You could try.”

  “Or you could stop being a dumb bitch for two seconds and tell me how much it will cost for you to get lost and clear the way for my daughter to be the next First Lady of the United States,” he snaps.

  “That’s what this conversation is about?”

  “Yes.”

  I want to lau
gh. Poor Mr. Jeffries wants me out of Jake’s life so his daughter can step into my very expensive shoes. All the while, I’m being blackmailed into being here in the first place. The whole convoluted mess is absolutely ridiculous. One thing is clear though; I can strike Mark Jeffries name off of the “who might be blackmailing me” list.

  “I would if I could,” I tell him, and as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could reel them back in.

  A month ago, I didn’t even want to reach out to Jacob Chancellor for help, even though the pictures that were delivered to my office on that long-ago day involved him too. But now… now, I’m in love with him. And I’m so in love with him that I want to scratch Ashley Jeffries eyes out every time she looks at him. There’s no way in hell I’ll trade places with her.

  Although, she currently has her body—in a very skimpy dress that leaves little to the imagination—plastered to my betrothed’s person. I let out a sigh. She’s going to be a thorn in my side. I can just feel it.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I say, turning back to him. “I have other guests to greet.”

  And then I walk away. I don’t walk toward Jake, but that’s neither here nor there. I find Jules in a corner of the bar, talking to a man I have never seen before. He’s handsome as hell, but their conversation looks anything but friendly.

  “Darling!” Jules says, putting a bright smile on her face and turning away from the man in question. “How is the woman of the hour?”

  “Good, I think.” I laugh.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” the man inserts. “Nice party.”

  “Thank you.”

  And then he stalks through the crush of people like a man on a mission.

  “Who was that?” I ask.

  “No one of importance.” After a moment of silence, she caves a little. “So, are you having a wonderful time at your fabulous party?”

  “I’m having a time,” I answer. “Do you think we could run away and grab a burger?”

  “That terrible?”

  “This is not my idea of a fun time.” I shrug. “Mark Jeffries wants me to clear the path for his daughter to be Jake’s FLOTUS.”

  “Ew. What a lunatic. Sometimes I really hate people,” she admits before changing the subject back. “And your idea of a fun time is pajamas and a good book at home with your seven hundred cats.”

  “I don’t have seven hundred cats.” I roll my eyes. “I have eight. Eight cats and a giant dog.”

  “Semantics.”

  “So, are you having a good time?” I ask her, hoping someone is at least having some fun. I stop myself just short of crossing my fingers before she answers.

  “Yes!” she says excitedly. “I met that FBI agent who married the police detective in New Jersey. The one with the mysterious past. And I have them this close to doing an exclusive interview with me.”

  “That’s awesome,” I tell her. “I didn’t know they were here. I hear she’s gorgeous.”

  “So gorgeous,” Jules agrees. “She has black hair and—get this—purple eyes. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. And so down to earth.”

  “I love that.”

  “Me too,” Jules murmurs.

  “I didn’t know Jake knew them…” I trail off, wondering how much more I don’t know about him.

  “I guess he was on the same SEAL team as Jake and Rick,” Jules says. “And her brother. I think there’s a story there, but I didn’t want to pry. Speaking of Rick, have you seen him and Cara shooting daggers from their eyes at each other from across the room? That is, when they’re not eye fucking each other. Seriously, I’m a little hot and bothered just from being in the vicinity.”

  I laugh, because she’s not wrong. “I know what you mean.”

  “So, Ohio is going to be… fun.” And she’s not wrong about that.

  “What about Ohio?” Jake asks as he wraps his arms around me from behind. I look over my shoulder at his smiling face. He looks so happy and carefree. It’s gestures like this that make me think some of it is real. God, I want it to be real.

  “We were just talking about how fun the campaign stops are going to be with the former Mr. and Mrs. at each other’s throat,” I whisper.

  “I think they’ll be fine once they fuck it out,” Jake replies, and Jules throws her head back and laughs.

  “I like you,” she says, pointing to him. “And he’s not wrong.”

  “You’re both terrible.” I roll my eyes.

  “Whatever. You love us,” she adds.

  “Yeah, you love us,” Jake repeats bringing my attention back to him. I love at him over my shoulder again and see that twinkle in his eye. He has been trying to get me to admit that I’m in love with him since I may or may not have said anything as I was falling asleep. Or maybe he’s just a really good read of people and body language. I don’t know. What I do know is he hasn’t said he reciprocates the feelings he’s been trying so desperately to pull from me. So why should I admit my weakness, when he doesn’t suffer from the same affliction?

  “You look beautiful, baby,” my mom says as they approach our group.

  “That she does,” Jake agrees.

  “My girl is going to make a beautiful bride, Jake,” dad warns. “Just see that you deserve her.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Jake promises before we say goodbye to my parents, and they head out for the night.

  “You ready to get out of here?” Jake asks me before placing a kiss to the side of my head.

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  The crowd had dwindled in the last hour or so, and the party was officially over. While some still lingered, Jake and I were free to go, and I had been ready to go for hours.

  He takes my hand in his and leads me out to the car, where he helps me in and then climbs in after me. I lean back against the seat and close my eyes.

  “Tired?” he asks as he brushes a lock of hair back from my face.

  “Very.”

  “It’s tough being a blushing bride-to-be,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I grumble. “You just get to shower and throw on a suit and show up. What the fuck is that about? I had to spend hours getting ready. And Cara only fed me apples and cheese beforehand! I’m starving.”

  “Hey, Joe. Can you drive us through the burger joint on the corner?” he asks our driver. And just like that, Jake is anticipating my needs and taking care of me. My heart pangs. I want this to be real. Please don’t let this be an act. I don’t think my heart could handle it if it’s all a ruse.

  We pick up cheeseburgers and fries for us, Joe, and Gus and then head back to the brownstone. Jake even ordered an extra patty for Sarge. And we eat in the kitchen at the table in our fancy clothes. I wipe my hands off on a napkin before reaching down to pull my heels off my feet one by one.

  Jake grabs my ankle in his hands and puts my foot in his lap. He kneads the aches and pains out of my foot before switching to the other one. He sets my foot back on the floor before pushing his chair back to stand, collects all our trash, and tosses it in the receptacle hidden under the sink before walking back to where I’m sitting. When he holds out a hand for me, I take it without questioning it, and then he helps me stand, scoops me up into his arms, and carries me upstairs, leaving my fancy shoes under the kitchen table.

  Jake kicks the bedroom door closed behind us before setting me on my feet next to the bed. He turns me around so my back is to him, and one by one, he gently plucks the pins from my hair and tosses them to the nightstand, letting my long hair hang free. He sifts his fingers through it and massages my scalp and neck before dropping his hands to the top of my dress. With nimble fingers, he slides the hidden zipper down my back, letting the material part and fall to the floor before turning me back around to face him.

  He reaches around me and unhooks my bra. I let it slip down my arms and land at my feet before sitting on the edge of the bed. Jake unbuttons his shirt and tosses it away.
His belt clanks as he unbuckles it and pushes his pants and underwear to the floor, stepping out of them. The combination of the fire in his eyes and the jerky movements as he sheds his clothes tells me that he is too close to the edge of his control tonight. Whatever emotions he’s feeling are riding him hard.

  “Lie back,” he says, his voice rough.

  I scoot to the center of the bed and lean back in the pillows. Jake grabs the waistband of my panties and uses my backward momentum to pull them down my legs before tossing them over his shoulder. I would laugh, but the intensity of his gaze has me shivering instead.

  He grips my thighs in his strong hands, spreading them to make room for his broad shoulders to settle in between. I hold my breath in anticipation. And then his breath whispers across my center. I have to close my eyes, the sensations washing over me, owning me, as he licks up my seam.

  Jake places open-mouth kisses over my inner thighs and across my mound, letting his stubble scrape against my sensitive skin, before dipping lower to suck my clit into his mouth. I arch my back and rock against his face. He slides a finger inside me and strokes the top.

  I twist the bedding in my fingers as Jake rolls his tongue over my clit again and again while he curves his finger inside me. But just when I’m about to come, he pulls back, taking his hand and his mouth away.

  “Jake,” I plead, but I don’t have to beg for long, because he is covering my body with his. I feel his hard tip at my opening, and he slides in deep.

  I wrap my legs around his waist and use my heels to try to force him even deeper. He grinds his pelvis between my legs, sending sparks across my skin. I dig my heels in and he does it again, making me moan.

  Jake slides his arms underneath me, holding me tight. He tangles one hand in my hair, holding me steady for his mouth to open over mine, and I moan when he licks into my mouth.

  I hold on tight to his shoulders as he trails his mouth across my cheek and down my neck, and he sucks the skin at my collarbone, making me arch into him. He soothes the hurt with his tongue before pressing his mouth to mine.