by Chelle Bliss
14
Jude
“We should cancel tonight,” Tyson says after he comes back into our room.
“Any leads?” I ask, ignoring his statement.
There’s no way I’m canceling any events or campaign stops. I refuse to let the liars win. They can try to bring down my campaign—it won’t be the first time—but I know I am in the right. I will not be making a statement of apology in order to sweep the accusation under the rug either. I did nothing wrong and refuse to give them any more power than they already seem to hold.
Tyson rubs his face with his palms and groans. “Nothing,” he replies, moving his hands away and dropping his arms as if he’s been defeated. “I don’t get it. Everyone is being so tight-lipped.”
“Then right now, I call bullshit on the entire thing. If someone had truly made the allegation, they would’ve come forward by now,” I tell him as I move across the room to help Reagan with her coat.
“Don’t be so quick to dismiss it, Jude,” Reagan says as she shrugs on the coat and turns to face me. “The fact that every media outlet is talking about it is all the credibility needed to bring down the campaign.”
“She’s right,” Tyson adds and winces like the words are bitter on his tongue.
There’s still no love lost between Reagan and Tyson. I don’t think there ever will be. They’ll forever be at odds, both politically and personally, and the two will never find middle ground for very long.
Tyson takes a step toward us as I grab my suit jacket from the closet. “Jude, I beg you to change your mind about going to this event.”
I hold up my hand, stopping him before he can say another word. “We’re going, Tyson. Either earn your pay and manage this shit, or I’ll find someone who will.”
“Hey.” Reagan touches my chin and turns my face toward her. “There’s no one better than Tyson. You need to calm down. He’s doing his job by giving you his opinion. Everyone here knows you’re going to do what you want, but he has every right to say what he did.”
I blow out a breath and close my eyes for a moment. I’m on edge and ready to pounce, but I’m taking it out on the wrong people. Reagan stares at me, waiting for me to respond or probably apologize to Tyson for overreacting.
“I’m sorry, Tyson,” I say, and even though the words are coming out of my mouth, the tone doesn’t convey an ounce of apology. “I know you’re only giving me advice, but I’m going tonight. I will not cave.”
Tyson throws up his hands and grunts, “Fine.” He grumbles under his breath about me never listening as he follows us out the hotel room.
The ride down in the elevator is tense. Tyson’s standing in front of us, staring at the lights above the door as we descend. He’s unusually quiet but probably so aggravated with me
Reagan’s at my side, stroking my back underneath my jacket. I lean over, bringing my mouth right next to her ear, and whisper, “You look beautiful tonight.”
She smiles up at me and winks, just as beautiful as the first time I laid eyes on her. It seems like more than five years ago since our paths first crossed, but not because of our relationship. That’s been the best part of the last five years.
When the elevator stops, Tyson steps out and turns toward us. “At least go out the back entrance of the hotel. The media is camped out in the front.”
“Come on, Tyson.” I place my hand on the small of Reagan’s back, ushering her away from the hotel’s front lobby. “We’ll listen to you for once. We have a party to get to, and we’re already late.”
The annual gala and charity silent auction for the American Ammunitions Association is one of the biggest conservative events of the year. It’s always heavily attended by the biggest names in the Republican party and some of the wealthiest people in the state. It’s the event to be seen at if you’re anyone of importance, and with this being so close to election day, I have to be in attendance.
The car’s already waiting for us in the rear, and I give Tyson a smirk before climbing in the back. “You have me all figured out, don’t you?”
“I’ve known you a lot of years, Jude.” He places his elbow on the armrest and stares out the window for a moment as the car starts to pull away from the curb. “Let’s talk about how we’re going to handle any questions.”
Reagan curls into my side as I rest my hand on her knee. “Do you think people are going to say anything to me?” My thumb slides across her velvety skin, and it pebbles underneath my touch.
“Some asshole will say something,” Reagan says. “You know how these rich pricks are, Jude.”
“I’ll handle them, but I’m not giving an official statement.”
“Try to keep the conversation moving. Any moment of silence and it’ll be their chance to slip it in.” Tyson pulls out his phone, typing feverishly with his tongue peeking out from between his lips.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, knowing Tyson better than almost everyone else in my life. The man has so many tells, and I’ve made sure to study them all.
“We may have a lead,” he tells me but doesn’t look up. “But nothing solid.”
“Who?” Reagan asks, shifting in her seat.
Tucking his phone into his jacket pocket, Tyson finally makes eye contact. “Wasn’t given a name yet. Just told to stand by for more information soon.”
“I want to know as soon as you do,” I say, trying to remove all anger from my voice. My pulse is jumping, my temper flaring, and somehow, I have to walk into the hotel event room with a smile on my face.
Reagan places her hand over mine, stroking my skin softly. “I won’t leave your side tonight,” she reassures me.
I’ve always felt like anything was possible as long as Reagan was by my side. I’ve never fought a campaign without her. “Tyson,” I say to get his attention as the car pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the hotel. “Why don’t you get out and give us a few minutes alone?” My hand tightens on Reagan’s leg as she opens her mouth and starts to speak. “We’ll be quick, but I need some time with my wife.”
Tyson nods before he opens the door. He has one foot out when he turns and says, “Don’t be too long. People will be asking about you.”
I nod, but I don’t bother to speak to him. “Sir,” I call out, and the driver looks at me in the rearview mirror, “drive around until I tell you to stop.”
“Anything you’d like, Mr. Titan. Would you like some privacy, sir?”
“Yes, please.”
“Jude,” Reagan whispers as the black glass slides up, giving us complete privacy. “I don’t know…”
I place my finger against her lips. “I need some time with you and only you, Reagan. Don’t deny me this.”
She nods slowly and doesn’t put up much of a fight as I grab her around the waist and lift her into my lap. “I want to touch you,” I say, staring into my wife’s eyes. “I need to touch you.”
She squirms as I slide my hand up her leg, moving past her knee and inner thigh before finding the edge of her panties. “Jude,” she whispers again, but it’s not for me to stop.
I know that burning in her eyes and the longing in her voice. She wants my touch as much as I need to give it to her. I lean in, sealing my lips over hers and soak in her moans as my fingertips slip underneath the lace.
She turns her upper body toward me, giving me more of her mouth and slides her legs apart as I push her panties to the side. My cock hardens underneath her ass, and I’d love more than anything to bury myself inside of her, but there’s not time for that with the crowd waiting for us at the hotel. I just needed her mouth, her pleasure, to get me through the next couple hours of political games.
Her tongue swirls around mine, greedy and sure, as she melts into me. My touch is light, sweeping over her soft skin, making her groan because Reagan has never been one to take anything slow. But I won’t let her control my speed. No amount of complaining is going to make me move faster.
Her kiss grows more demanding as my fingers circle around h
er clit. She shivers in my arms with every passing sweep over her sensitive skin. She’s already wet, wanting every bit of this as much as I do.
I slide my fingers down, pushing two slowly inside her, and stroke her clit. She moans into my mouth, feeding me air, and I take it. Her pussy contracts around my fingers, begging for more each time I pull them out before thrusting them in a little deeper.
She breaks the kiss and stares at me with her lips parted. “Jude,” she says softly as her eyes roll back. “I need your cock.”
“There’s no time,” I tell her, keeping my rhythm steady, finger-fucking her just how she likes it.
“We can be quick. I’ll get on top.” She smirks. “Undo your pants,” she says as she slides off me and pulls her panties off from underneath her dress.
I’m not going to argue with that. I lift my ass, unzipping my pants before pulling them down to my ankles. Before I’ve even eased back into the seat, Reagan’s already straddling me with my hard cock in her hands.
“Just relax,” she says, rubbing the tip of my dick through her wetness. “Let me make you feel good.”
I grab her hips, holding her dress around her waist as she eases herself down my shaft. I groan, blowing out a breath as her warmth envelops me and sends a shiver down my spine. The jostling of the car adds to the sensations as she rises up and lowers herself again.
Over and over, she fucks me, bucking in my lap before crashing her lips down on mine. My fingertips dig into her hips as I try to control her speed, but Reagan’s too amped up to control. In this position, riding my cock, she’s dominating me, and I’m strangely okay with it. More than okay. I’m loving it.
She grinds her cunt against me as she impales herself, moving faster until the orgasm crashes over us both. Her kiss softens, the strokes of her tongue growing gentler as the aftershocks rake over us.
“Thanks,” she says, leaning her forehead against mine.
I smile at my wife and kiss her lips one more time. “I love you,” I say and leave it at that.
There’s nothing more that needs to be said. There’s no one who completes me the way Reagan does. There’s no more calming force in my life than having my wife at my side. Sex or no sex, she’s it for me.
15
Reagan
Two hours later, I’m really glad Jude initiated that hot sex on the way here. The only things keeping me relaxed right now are the orgasm I had in the car and the glass of Merlot in my hand.
“You are every bit as lovely as I’ve heard,” an older man says as his eyes rake over my body. “You’re a lucky man, Jude.”
“Yes, I am.” My husband’s tone is clipped. “And a protective one as well.”
The warning in his tone goes unnoticed by the half-drunk guy in an expensive suit. He laughs and keeps ogling me as he says, “If that was mine, I’d be protective too.”
I press a palm to Jude’s back, trying to calm him. This comes with the territory, and we both know it. But Jude’s temper is shorter than usual right now.
Tyson finally got the details of the allegations against Jude confirmed about an hour ago, and we all huddled in a conference room for five minutes so he could tell us.
The woman’s name is Jessica Culbertson, and she’s a twenty-five-year-old aspiring model. She alleges that she was getting a photo taken with Jude at an event two months ago and he grabbed her ass and invited her back to his room, then got hostile and threatened her when she refused.
Even though I felt shattered that someone would make an accusation like that against Jude, I held it together. I don’t want anyone, even Tyson, to know how much I’m struggling with all of this.
Most of all, I don’t want Jude to know. He’ll think I doubt him, and it’s not that. Even as Tyson spelled out the allegations Jessica is lodging against Jude, I knew he hadn’t done any of it.
Jude’s not the sort to touch any woman who doesn’t want him to. He’s never had to, because women take one look at him and line up in hopes he’ll notice them.
When we’re apart, my husband lets me know in no uncertain terms how sexually frustrated he is. He gets pretty moody about it.
It’s the humiliation factor that has me feeling this way. Everything my family went through when my father’s affair came out has come rushing back. Even tonight, I’m getting looks of pity and disdain, and these are Jude’s supporters.
For once, I’m glad to see Tyson. He excuses Jude and me from the drunken asshole we’re standing with and leads us back to the conference room we met in before.
“Statement’s ready,” he says, passing Jude a piece of paper.
Jude scans it, then passes it to me. I read each word carefully as Jude asks Tyson, “Who wrote it?”
“I did. Since we don’t have a coms leader right now, I figured—”
“It’s good,” Jude cuts in.
I finish reading and nod in agreement. “You said what needed to be said and nothing more. It’s a clear, concise denial.”
Tyson nods, then levels his gaze at Jude.
“I have a photo of the accuser.” He passes Jude his phone, and Jude looks down at the screen. “Any memory of meeting her at any point?”
Jude shakes his head. “She doesn’t look familiar, but you know how campaigning goes. I see so many people every day. She could have been at an event, and I don’t remember it. But if she was, I definitely didn’t touch her or proposition her.”
Tyson nods and tucks the written statement back inside a folder. “We’ll get this released. How long do you want to hang here?”
“Another hour should be good,” Jude says, putting an arm around my waist.
Jude turns for the door then, and I put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Hey, Tyson, can you give us a minute alone?” I ask.
“Sure.” He steps out of the room and closes the door behind him.
Jude put his hands on my waist and pulls me close, looking down into my eyes. “What’s up?”
“My bosses have been blowing up my phone with texts about this. I’m not sure what to tell them.”
Jude furrows his brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tell them it’s bullshit.”
I sigh softly. “That’s not the issue. They’re concerned with perception. It’s hard for me to work on bipartisan issues when Democrats are flaming pissed at you.”
“Democrats are always flaming pissed at me, love.”
“Not like this. There are even Republican women calling for a full investigation.”
Jude’s expression darkens. “Bring on an investigation. I have nothing to hide because I didn’t do anything.”
“I know.” I lay a palm on his chest. “But you get where they’re coming from, right?”
He shakes his head. “Sounds like they’re blaming you for the shitstorm surrounding me, and that’s bullshit. You’re your own person.”
“I know, but we’re married.”
He considers for a second before saying, “Aren’t you planning on quitting anyway? To take the job with Andrea?”
I nod and look down at the floor. “I was, but…Andrea rescinded her offer. I just saw the text when I checked my phone a few minutes ago.”
Jude’s eyes widen with disbelief. “What the fuck? Over this?”
“I’m sure it is. Andrea’s work is much like the Lancet Foundation’s. She can’t have the optics of a sex scandal.”
“Fuck.” Jude rubs his temple and exhales deeply. “There is no sex scandal, Ray.”
“I know.” I overemphasize the words, frustrated with him telling me what we both already know. “But it’s about perception, Jude.”
“No, this is total bullshit. You’ve busted your ass for the Lancet Foundation, and now they want you to resign over a bullshit accusation against me? With no proof at all?”
“They want me to take a leave of absence.”
“Is that what you want?”
I shrug. “I think it’s for the best. I’d end up getting cornered with questions about
you in any meetings I have anyway. And I get why the Lancet people need to distance themselves from us.”
Jude starts to speak, stops himself, and then starts again. “No, babe. Fuck no. That’s not okay. You live in this world where everyone has to look out for number one, because that’s what your dad always did.”
I recoil. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t mean you. I mean the people around you. You don’t think you deserve loyalty. But you do, Reagan. You fucking do. You were loyal to that organization, and if any of them were worth a shit, they’d be loyal to you.”
“Politics isn’t always fair, though. We both know that.”
He runs a hand through his dark hair, his jaw set in a tense line. “Yeah, but it’s not supposed to affect my wife. Your career that you’ve worked so hard for… Fuck.” He shakes his head and looks away.
“Hey.” I use my fingertips to turn his cheek until he’s facing me. “This is where I need to be right now anyway. Let’s focus on the biggest fire, and we’ll worry about the other little ones later.”
He nods solemnly. “I do need you here. I don’t know why this woman made up that story, but I know her reason can’t be good. This could ruin me.”
“We’re not going there,” I say firmly. “We’re going to take this campaign one day at a time. We knew going in that it would be a fight.”
“Yeah.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “But I should’ve been the only one at risk, not you.”
“This stuff never just touches the candidate—it touches the entire family.”
His deep sigh ruffles my hair. “You know that better than anyone. You’ve been through this once already.”
His tone is laced with guilt. And while that’s not what I want him to feel, there’s a sense of relief that he gets it. I didn’t have to tell him how hard this is for me, because he knows me well enough to get it.
“My dad was guilty, though, and you aren’t,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but in the court of public opinion, I’m guilty until proven innocent.”