He watches me tuck the speech away in my bag, then he undoes the remaining two buttons on his jacket and gestures to what I assume is a liquor cabinet against the wall. “Would you like a drink?”
Yes. But I feel obligated to decline, even if it comes out weak and unconvincing. “I should get back.”
I hold my breath after I say it because I know it’s not the right answer.
His lips tighten, but he nods. “Is anyone else still over there?”
I lift one eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? There’s a skeleton crew of them who won’t leave until they get the notice that you’ve left the building.”
He ducks his head. “I swore I wouldn’t be that kind of boss.”
“Don’t feel bad about it. It’s what they want. Every single one of them lives for the moment they’re thrown into battle.”
“How about you?”
“I’m an academic. I live for studying people like them.”
He huffs a quiet, rueful laugh as he opens the cabinet. “You sure I can’t offer you something?”
“What are you having?”
He lifts a bottle of Crown Royal in the air. “On the rocks.”
I should say no. But for the first time since I’ve met him, he looks tired. And if I let my imagination run wild, as it wants to, he looks lonely, too.
“Sure. A small glass.”
I look at the pictures he has lining the mantel while he pours our drinks. A family portrait. Gavin and a dark haired man who looks vaguely familiar. Gavin and Stew on election night. I catch the corner of my lip between my teeth as I lean in and look at their beaming faces.
“You really didn’t expect the election win to happen, did you?” I ask as he joins me.
He makes a noncommittal noise.
“I’m sorry, is that rude?” I shoot him a quick look over my shoulder. “I guess you’ve never answered that question.”
“It’s tricky. I don’t want anyone to think that I don’t want to be here.”
“I’d never think that.”
He gives me a long look, and his normally icy stare is darker. Murkier, like a thawing spring lake. Finally he tips his glass up to his lips. After taking a slow sip, he licks away the whiskey and looks back at the picture of himself and his Chief of Staff. “No,” he says quietly. “We didn’t expect it to happen.”
“I’m glad you won.”
“Me too. The other guys were ruining this place.” A faint smile plays at his lips as he glances toward the arm chairs. “Let’s sit. Tell me how it’s going.”
I settle in the chair furthest from his desk, smoothing out my skirt after I cross my legs. I keep my eyes down, because I don’t want to know either way if Gavin’s looking at my legs.
If he is, that’s complicated.
If he isn’t…
“Ellie.”
I still don’t look up. “It’s going just fine.”
“Is the pace too much for you?”
“No, sir.” I look up. “It’s not the life I’d choose for myself for the rest of time. But like you said, I’m glad it happened.”
“Was it your idea to apply for the position?”
I shake my head. “My faculty advisor thought it would be a good opportunity. My research will take place in elementary schools and daycares, and the summer isn’t a great time to start that. So my options for these three months were…apply for this, or work as an RA doing data review.”
“Research Assistant?”
I nod. “I promise you’re a more interesting taskmaster.”
Another slight reaction, well-controlled, but not completely hidden.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” I whisper, echoing Beth’s words. But I don’t own them the same way she does.
His gaze darkens. “I’d never want to interfere with that for you.”
I frown. Maybe he didn’t hear the doubt in my voice. And I genuinely have no clue what he’s talking about. “I’m really…my time to date has been fascinating. I’ve learned so much, seen so much…If I were done tomorrow, I’d call it a successful experience. Definitely.”
“But you aren’t done tomorrow.”
“Of course not.” I give him a nervous smile. “I’ve been ordered to attend the fundraiser next week.”
He takes a long, slow sip. The whiskey leaves his upper lip wet, and the slick welcome to his mouth makes hot, hungry heat unfurl low in my belly. “You’re a big part of making sure the event is in line with my principles, Ellie.”
“I’m happy to be there. I…” You know when you say something and you can hear yourself saying it, and you know it’s extraneous information that you should have kept to yourself? Yeah. That. “I got a dress for it. Wednesday night. Before… you know. Last night I worked until eleven. I didn’t go shopping yesterday.”
“Ellie.”
“Yes?”
“Stop.”
“Okay.”
He grins, unexpectedly, and it lights me up inside. “A dress?”
I blush. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes flash dark again. “Good.”
Ha. That was dirty. Even I know that was dirty. I knew something was going on. And there’s no way the PM is ever going to act on it.
I’m his intern.
So if someone’s going to do something… it has to be me, right?
What's the worst that could happen?
I touch my fingertips to the hollow at the base of my neck. His gaze follows.
My cheek. Still with me.
My lips, a glancing swipe with just one finger as I slide my hand in front of my face and sweep my loose waves behind my ear.
They tumble free a second later.
He's still looking at my mouth.
I’ve never played the seductress before. With enough chemistry, it seems it’s not so difficult after all. I give him a slight smile and lean back in my chair, crossing my legs the other way as I reach for my drink again. “I’ve never been one for whiskey, but this is excellent.”
“I’m more of a beer guy,” he says, his eyes twinkling as he leans back in his chair. “But I haven’t worked up the courage to ask them to install a beer fridge in here yet.”
“Yet?”
“It’s not in my nature to deprive myself forever.”
When I find my voice again, it’s breathless. “You usually take what you want.”
“Usually.”
“What stops you the rest of the time?”
“The greater good.”
“Ah.” I tip back my glass and finish my drink. It burns going down and fills me with warmth. Liquid courage indeed. I uncross my legs and push myself out of the chair. My glass swings loose in my hand as I carry it across the room and set it on the tray next to the bottle.
When I turn around, Gavin’s standing as well.
I press my hands to my skirt, which is suddenly too tight across my hips. I wish I wasn’t nervous again, but when I stood, the seductress act fell away, and now I’m standing here, just me again.
Young, awkward, unworldly in many ways.
He’s not just a guy I like. I can’t invite him out for beers and let my arm brush against his. Tip my head sideways and ask if he wants to come back to my place for one last drink.
We only get this. I glance around. There are probably security cameras, anyway.
“Not in here,” he says, his voice low and strained.
“Did I say that out loud?”
He nods roughly.
I take a step closer.
He doesn’t move.
“Gavin…”
A muscle clenches in his jaw and two more steps get me close enough to touch him. I press my fingers to his cheek and feel him shudder. His hand comes up and his fingers circle my wrist.
I hold myself still, bracing for his rejection.
It doesn’t come.
His grip tightens on my wrist and he tugs me closer, his other hand settling at the small of my back as we stare at each other. I’m breathless
, and inside I’m screaming at myself to kiss him already, but then he takes control.
Both of his hands rake over my body and drive into my hair, fisting together at the back of my head as his mouth slides hard against mine. I gasp and twist my fingers into the front of his shirt, holding tight as he parts my lips with his and wipes all fantasy kisses from my mind.
This is way better than my imagination.
He tastes warm and sexy, a whiskey-laced man, and I press onto my toes, hungry for more. His hands tighten in my hair and he eases away.
“Ellie,” he says, his lips brushing mine, and I don’t know if it’s a warning or a plea.
I slide my hands inside his jacket, over the smooth, fine cotton of his shirt. It does nothing to disguise the solid bulk of him beneath the clothes. Firm, fighting muscles I want to feel on top of me, moving against me.
I scrape my teeth against his jaw as I press my body tighter against his. He hisses and shifts his hold on me, moving me backward until my bottom bumps into his desk.
Effortlessly, he lifts me at the hips and settles me on the mostly clear surface.
“Is this thing an antique?” I ask, my voice shaking as he shrugs out of his jacket.
“I really don’t give a fuck,” he growls, caging me in as he leans over me. “No biting.”
“Or what?” I snap my teeth at the air in front of him and his entire face darkens in the most delicious way.
“Jesus, Ellie, you’re playing with fire.”
“So maybe I want to get burned.”
13
Gavin
She leans forward and nips at my lower lip. My reaction is swift and instinctual. One of my hands is pinning both her wrists behind her while the other is fisted in her hair, pulling her head back. Her lips are rosy and swollen from our last kiss and I crush my mouth to hers, forcing it open while my tongue delves deep inside.
I half expect her to struggle. Instead she leans in and lets out a small moan.
I’m done for.
I release her wrists and hair, then work my hands down her back until I’m cupping her ass. I slide her off the desk to her feet and pull her in tight, trapping my erection against her soft belly.
I can't get enough of her. I squeeze her hips, her ass, her waist. She's pliant and sweet, like a willow, but with enough snap to draw out the part of me that wants a challenge.
I twist her body away from me, one hand dangerously low on her belly, the other cupped around her throat as I continue kissing her. She rocks her bottom against my cock as I swallow her gasping pleas.
I’m so lost in her taste, I don’t come to my senses until I’ve got her bent over my desk with one hand on the small of her back and the other mid-swing.
What the fuck am I doing? Heart pounding, I freeze for a second, then let go of her and help her up.
I apologize in a rush, needing to smooth this over. “Ellie, I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. Actually none of what I did here tonight should have happened. My behaviour was inappropriate and inexcusable.”
I can’t believe I lost control and nearly spanked her.
My gut is all twisted up and my knees feel like rubber as all the consequences of my actions race through my head.
For probably the first time in my life, I’m at a complete loss on how to handle a woman. It's the first time since I've taken public office that I've wanted a woman as much as I want Ellie. No, scratch that. I've never wanted anyone as much as this.
And I can't have her.
She touches her fingers to her lips, then drops her gaze to the floor. “No, it’s fine. No harm, no foul. Really. I shouldn’t have…I…I should go.”
“Ellie, look at me.” I pause a moment, then use my thumb and finger to gently lift her chin. She still won’t make eye contact, so I adjust my posture until she has no choice. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I think I made it clear I’m genuinely flattered by your interest and that it’s mutual. But, we’re not… compatible, and I let blind lust get in the way of good judgement.”
She shakes her head and pulls away from me. “But I—”
I drag my fingers through my hair and pace the room. “Just stop. You did nothing wrong. Nothing at all.” How the fuck am I supposed to make her believe it?
“I need to just go.”
I look at the clock. It’s late. And fuck, Max is due to arrive soon. “At least let me arrange a safe ride home for you.”
She nods and I open my door. “Tim, I’m just about ready to leave now. We’ll be dropping Ellie at her place on our way home.”
Max is waiting for me with pizza and beer when I arrive. Yet another reason why he’s my best friend. It doesn’t matter where I hang my hat, he has no problem making himself right at home.
“I thought you’d forgotten I was coming.”
“Long, hard day.”
“You look more like it’s been a long, hard night. Where were you?”
“At the office.”
“Your hair looks more like you’ve spent the last few hours rolling around in bed.”
“Fuck.”
“Oh hell. Sit down, eat some pizza and guzzle some beer. We’ve got all night.”
“I messed up royally tonight.”
“I got that much from the fuck and your expression. Care to elaborate?”
I do and I don’t. I’m still processing, but the only person who could possibly understand and help is sitting right here on my couch. I’ve missed being able to have candid conversations where I don’t have to worry about anyone listening in.
I take a deep breath. “It’s Ellie.”
Max rolls his eyes. “Can we move on to the stuff I don’t already know?”
I can feel my face burn as I recall the details. “What you don’t know is I kissed her silly and came within a heartbeat of spanking her ass scarlet.”
“What made you stop?”
“The one functioning brain cell that deactivated my lizard brain. Fuck, Max, she made the sweetest pass, and instead of being responsible and letting it go, I acted on it. And to make matters worse, she somehow feels like she’s the one who fucked up. I need to fix this, and I have no idea how.”
“Well. That is a bit of a pickle.” Max grins at me, then takes a massive bite of his pizza.
Outwardly he’s being an ass, but I know that big brain of his is churning and I can afford to be a little patient.
I take a long swig of my beer, grab another slice of pizza, and wait.
Finally, three beers and an empty pizza box later, Max speaks.
“Well, my friend, you’ve got some serious thinking to do.”
“That’s all you’ve got? Really?”
“No, that was me prefacing what I’ve got. Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Carry on.”
Max bowed his head in mock salute. “As I said, you’ve got some serious thinking to do because all your options have a downside.”
I nod and wait.
“And before you can even evaluate them, there are factors you need to consider. You’re kinky. Is she on board with that, or are you going to turf the toybox? Your thing with Andrea was totally vanilla—how’d that work out for you?"
Not satisfying in the least. And not because of Andrea or the sex—I'm not the kind of guy who needs to be all kink, all the time. But because that door was kept firmly closed when it's in my nature for it to swing open. Sometimes…a lot.
"You need to figure out exactly what your feelings are on that point, first. Then you've got some options." Max holds up a finger. “Option one is do nothing. Pretend like it never happened and hope she doesn’t hit you with sexual harassment.” Another finger. “Two, you have a clandestine affair with a subordinate and hope like fuck nobody finds out.” A third finger. “Last, you fire her, and get it all out in the open.”
Truth is, he’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. But after spending the last few weeks acting irrationally, it helps to have an objective party weigh
in. I desperately search my brain for a fourth option with no downside. Of course, all I come up with is the one problem he didn’t—her age.
She's fourteen years younger than me.
On the other hand, I've memorized her birthday. She's turning twenty six in August. That's not too young for a man my age. But is it too young for a man in my position?
I've made a lot of deals to get this chance to lead my country. Tucked away my desires and set aside my wants.
Even with all the downsides racking up in the cons column, I'm bitter at myself for giving up Ellie, too.
The next morning I’m feeling a little fragile. It's a rare Saturday off for me, orchestrated by Beth, who deserves a raise. Too bad her salary is dictated by the federal government and I'm not allowed to give her lavish gifts.
We'll have to find a workaround there.
I'm infamous among my staff for being an early riser, but the truth is, on a day off I like to sleep in—add in a few too many beers last night, and I’m up earlier than I want to be today.
Max has arranged to spend the day house-hunting with Beth, and that isn’t going to happen without me along to supervise. I never did manage to extract a promise from him not to mess around with her. Besides, I’m feeling pretty fucked up from the way things went with Ellie and the distraction will do me good.
Max is already in the kitchen preparing breakfast when I show up. He looks too fucking cheerful. Must be all that doctor training shit that makes him never need a full-night’s sleep.
“Morning. You’re looking a little rough, there, Gav.”
“Fuck off. I need coffee.”
“You don’t have to come with us today, you know.”
“Oh, you know I do. Now stop talking until I’ve at least had a cup of coffee. As your prime minister, that’s an order. I’m sure there’s a piece of paper somewhere stating something like that.”
Max just laughs. “Suck it up, princess. To the outside world you’re the prime minister. To me you’ll always be nothing more than the sad-sack I got stuck with for a roommate that first year at UBC.”
I want to stay grumpy, but I can’t. I’m too happy to have him close.
“You don’t have to buy a house. You could just live here. It’s way too big for just me."
Prime Minister (Frisky Beavers #1) Page 7