* * *
Having undertaken a staring contest with the red numbers on the alarm clock beside the bed, I decide enough is enough and throw the covers back. We’ve been having this battle every ten minutes or so since about four am, and I’m done. Getting up and crossing the room, I dig through my bag to find my Sweaty Betty workout clothes. My next battle will be with the cross-fit machine in the hotel’s gym. Stripping off my sleepwear, I pull on the black with bright blue, three quarter pants and the matching fitted, strap-back top with built-in bra. Lord, I love spandex. Stretchy enough to give you room to move and supportive enough that you can go without underwear. Besides, I find working out in a thong a pain in the ass. Literally. Having tied my trainers, I thrown my hair into a short, messy, lump-like creation, grab my iPod Nano and slip my cardkey in my top before leaving the room.
There are only a few other machines in use as I walk into the gym, still fairly empty given it’s five a.m. My eyes seek out the cross-fit machines, and they’re all free. Heading straight over, I don’t look at anyone, putting my buds in my ears as I go. Calling up my workout playlist, ‘Lorde’ gets me warming with the perfect building beat of ‘Perfect Places’, and pretty soon I’m lost to the freedom of repetitious movement. It’s around the time ‘Silence’, by ‘Marshmello feat. Khalid’ comes to an end, I feel like I’m being watched. Watched with an intensity that is making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Instinctively knowing right where to look, my eyes connect with Jake’s, and it’s all I can do to control the shudder through my entire body and keep my rhythm on the machine. Neither of us smiles, but neither of us breaks the stare either. Locked together, I not only see the fire in Jake’s eyes, I feel it. His gaze owns me, I want it, and the force of it is nothing short of eye fucking. If this is what he looks like when he’s amped to fuck, I can’t even comprehend what it would be like to have him over me. Caging me in. Driving into me. Giving me his everything. Jake’s powerful arms and muscular thighs work the rowing machine, the sight making me burn in places other than my muscles. I picture myself sitting astride him like this, our naked chests pressed together, my ankles locked around his back, and his hard cock snugly inside me as he rows. My breathing changes, coming out in irregular pants, and I know the exact moment the rigid points of my nipples become visible.
“Jesus, fuck.”
I read the words clear as daylight from Jake’s lips, watching as his rhythm falters and he comes to a sudden stop. I keep going, despite being more than hot and bothered, my cool down is nearly complete. Jake wipes his face off with the towel he’s grabbed from the chair beside him, slinging it around the back of his neck when he’s done. Standing up, he steps out of the machine and without looking away from me, drops a hand to adjust the position of his obviously erect dick. And it is a sight to behold. Worthy of an Instagram post. Hash tag, dickprint.
Jake walks over to me in a way that makes me think he’s physically making himself go slow, and I let my eyes roam the full length of his body. He’s in a fitted navy tank and dark grey shorts, both garments I want to take off him with my teeth. Having just worked out, his muscles are tight and slicked with a fine sheen of sweat, but it’s the raised veins in his forearms and hands that cause my core to clench so deeply, I can feel my arousal soaking the spandex between my legs. I’m genuinely worried that the moment his warm, manly scent hits me, I’m going to come.
He’s almost in line with my machine when he finally speaks.
“Cassie.”
“Jake.”
Not trusting myself to say anything more, I leave it at that.
More staring.
Right now the only thing that will prevent me from pouncing onto his body and climbing him American Ninja Warrior style, is if he keeps moving and walks out of the gym.
“See you in the lobby,” he says, mercifully continuing on his path and out of what I know are the double glass doors behind me.
Jumping off the cross-fit, I bury my face in my towel and let out a muffled scream. The likelihood of Jake and I resisting this pull between us much longer is not high. It’s only going to take something small, and what little restraint either of us has left, will snap.
* * *
Today has been so long it was almost torturous. I’m not talking about the events we attended or the interview Jake did, they went brilliantly. Jake really shines around people, the charisma he hit me with during our first meeting is nothing compared to what I’m seeing out here on the road. It’s like he’s slowly losing the jaded-veneer being on Capitol Hill had covered him in.
What has made the day seem extra-long is the fact that Jake and I keep touching.
It’d started accidentally this morning during check out, when I’d stepped back from the desk and right into Jake. I’d had no idea he’d been behind me, and why he was that close in the first place was up for debate, but the moment his big hands had grabbed my hips to steady me, the need I’d thought I’d stated only thirty minutes before came back with vigor. Given he’d then held me against him for about five seconds too long to have been considered polite, it’d only made things worse. With my ass nestled so close to what would’ve been the perfect position, I think we’d both known that if either one of us had made even the slightest adjustment, our knees would’ve buckled. Common sense prevailed thankfully, and Jake had stepped back. It’d become clear to me in that moment, that around Jake Reid, my underwear would only remain dry for the bare minimum of time.
The second contact had also been an accident, and came as we’d been getting on the bus after the first event. Jake and Ella had been walking slightly behind me as we’d made our way across the parking lot. Ella was talking with Jake about all the things that had needed his attention, and a few calls he had to return. I’d only been sort of listening, until Ella had said the calls were the priority. I’d turned around from my position on the first step of the bus to remind Jake that there was a phone interview in fifteen minutes time. Jake, again inexplicably closer to me that I’d thought, came to an abrupt stop…with his face pressing right into my chest. Leaning back slightly and looking up at me from his position on the ground, Jake had smirked at me and whispered, “That’s two.”
Once we’d all sat down, Ella giving Jake a stack of papers to sign and other shit I was starting to think was busy work designed to keep Jake and I apart between stops, I’d opened my message app and sent him a text.
CA: Sorry, but you seem to be right behind me today. Like, right behind me, at every turn. Maybe take a step back for your own safety?
Almost instantly, he’d replied.
JR: No.
CA: Huh?
JR: No.
CA: What do you mean, no?
JR: No. As in, not going to happen.
CA: Why?
JR: Because I said.
I mean, seriously?
I’d looked over to where Jake was sitting at the dining table we’d turned into a makeshift office desk for the afternoon, seeing he was reading a file in front of him. I didn’t know what was going through his head but I’d left him to work, only having fifteen minutes to get done what Ella had given him and then he was mine again. Well, my schedule.
The third incident wasn’t a touch, but it sure had shed light on the first two. It’d not only made it perfectly clear what had been happening, it’d also made me hotter than hell. We were on the bus, Jake having finished a call-in chat with a local talk-radio station for an area we were visiting tomorrow. The call had taken place in the bedroom at the rear of the bus, and I’d been conferenced into listen, though my line had been muted. We were sitting on the end of the bed, and despite the obvious temptation that had presented; we were discussing how the call had gone, and what to expect from tomorrow’s visit as a result. Far from being alone on this bus, there were still times when we’d shared a look, knowing that the other was thinking about the fact that we had been sitting on a bed. Together. Door closed. When one of Jake’s staff had barely knocked on the bedroom
door, opened it and come inside, we’d both laughed.
Paul had been talking to Jake about some research he’d done into the rules of the fishing competition we were attending in a few days time, when he’d flipped a page on his notepad, the pen he’d been holding dropping to the floor. Thinking nothing of it, I’d moved to pick it up, leaning over from my seated position, and passing it back to Paul, before he left. And then I’d looked at Jake. Jaw tight, eyes intense, an almost angry look on his face.
“What?” I’d asked genuinely perplexed at what his damage was.
“For fuck’s sake, Cassie!” Jake had hissed at me through a clenched jaw. “That fucking skirt is going to be the death of me today. Do you have any idea how good your ass looks with that pattern stretched across it? I want to run my fingers over it like a Goddamn treasure map.”
I did know actually, it was kinda the whole point of the skirt.
Voice low and rumbling, Jake continued. “I’ve been trying to keep the eyes of every grown man in a five mile radius off of it since I saw you at reception this morning, while at the same time trying to keep my dick from getting a closer look!”
With that he’d gotten up and left the room, joining the others in the lounging area of the bus.
So since then, our day has been full of little touches. Touches that have been more frequent, getting bolder as the day has gone on. No longer accidental, from either of us, they outwardly appear platonic and professional. My skin buzzing with electricity that feels like it’s too much for my body to contain, says otherwise. Jake’s fingers across my lower back, my hand on Jake’s arm. I’d even picked a piece of non-existent lint from his tie before a picture was taken just so I could run my hand down his chest. My nipples have been hard for hours, so much so I can no longer take my jacket off. As for my panties...lost cause.
We’re now on our way to the hotel for the night, and I for one will be glad to get off this rolling tin can of temptation and lust. Jake is everywhere; his smell, his presence, his touch and I’m about ready to explode. If the look on his face is anything to go by, Jake is in the exact state I am.
Sitting next to Jake at the table, we’re going over tomorrow’s schedule. Just as I reach for my water bottle, Jake reaches for his, the backs of our hands brushing. Jerking mine away without my water bottle, I mutter, “Sorry.”
“Cassie?” Jake questions, tone low with his face looking down at the schedule in front of him.
“Yeah?” I reply, my naturally raspy voice is husky even to my own ears.
Slowly, but his words firm, Jake says, “I swear to God, we touch one more time and I’m going to lift you onto this table, push up that cock tease of a skirt and dive my tongue into your pussy so fast, you won’t even feel me rip your fucking panties from your body.”
Give. Me. Strength.
I’m looking at Jake’s profile, and unable to form words, I say nothing. He picks up his pen, not having looked at me once, and starts to make notes on the schedule. We are however, on the same page. Big time.
I get up, my legs unsteady beneath me, and make my way to the small bathroom at the rear of the bus. Locking the door behind me, I know that what I’m about to do will likely change everything. I’m potentially risking my job and my reputation, all because somehow, Jake Reid has gotten under my skin and I can only see one way to get him out.
Staring into the small mirror above the even smaller washbasin, my bright blue eyes look back at me. I note they’re shiny with lust before I look away, knowing what needs to be done. I’ve known for a while now.
Walking back towards the table where Jake is looking out the window, I see we are pulling up to tonight’s hotel. Sitting next to him, being very careful not to make contact, I take what I’m holding in my hand and discreetly, using just the tips of my fingers, slowly push my silky, black g-string into the pocket of his suit pants.
Looking up from my task, my eyes connect with Jake’s, he’s been watching me, and I know he knows exactly what I’ve gifted him with. His grey eyes are filled with storm clouds of desire so dark, that they look almost black.
With just that final look between us, I stand up, purposefully adding swing to my hips as I walk, and make my way off the bus.
Chapter 8
Jake
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I knew what she’d put in my pocket, but wasn’t able to retrieve them until I got to my hotel room. The whole way from the bus up to here, I felt like I was concealing a loaded gun or carrying an illegal drug. The need to have it, the want to have it, was clouding my thoughts. Instantly, I felt the wetness of the material as soon as my fingers touched it. Looking down at the black material, fuck, I knew it, I knew she was wearing black today…well, fantasized more like it. My fingers were in my mouth in an instant, tasting her and I groaned with the flavor. Sweet and savory, then of course I was pressing the soft material to my nose and inhaling deeply, the scent causing my body to react.
JR: I can’t do this anymore.
My fingers make fast work of my tie, my cock painfully hard against my pants. I should just jerk off. No, this has to stop and jerking off won’t make anything change.
CA: I’m sorry.
I see the three dots dancing and before she can send me some not necessary apology, I begin to type.
JR: I’m coming to your room. I brought condoms with me on the trip hoping this might happen, so don’t think I just always have condoms. If this isn’t what you want, then keep your door locked. I’m over these games when all I want is to fuck you and make you come. Nothing professional between us will change, just know that too.
With those words, I slip my phone and room key into my pocket and head for the door after adjusting my cock. I know she’s in the room three doors down and my heart races with every step. What if she locks the door? Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe she should be reassigned to another job, because I can’t handle being around her but not with her.
Charging closer, my hand lands on the handle, not pushing it down. Taking a few deep breaths, I know that what I’m about to do might change everything…and I’m completely ready for that. Pushing the handle down, the door clicks open and something sparks in me, lights, explodes, and I force the door open. The room is dim with only a faint light as I raise my head to see Cassie standing just inside the room, naked. She’s totally naked, chest heaving with quickened breaths, nipples hard, flat stomach, the slight flair to her hips, her bare pussy, all being devoured by my eyes for a moment before the door slams behind me and I move to her. My hands on her thighs lift her up and against me as our eyes meet and she spreads her legs around me.
“Are we really doing this?” she asks.
I nod in a lust-filled haze as we both lean in and press our lips together, just as I back her against the wall. Her skin is warm against me, her smell invading my nose, and fuck I want her so bad. Her lips soft yet dominant in a way; she’s receiving my almost aggressive lips and returning with the same urgency. Our tongues lapping and stroking, teeth tugging lower lips and sucking. My hands move from her hips as one slides into her hair and the other moves between us and cups her sex. She lets out a little whimper, which my mouth takes from her, her pelvis grinds into me and I feel how warm she is, teasing her and myself by not moving my fingers. Her hands are on my shoulders, fingertips digging into my shirt as she pulls her lips back to look down at me.
“How wet are you from being around me today?” I ask.
“So fucking wet,” she pants and licks her lips.
“You want me to touch you there?”
“Oh God, yes.”
“With my fingers?” I ask, sliding my middle finger up between her thick lips and nudging her clit.
Her eyes spark as her mouth opens slightly wider, nodding her head in response to my question.
“Or my mouth? I’ve been imagining sucking your little clit between my teeth––”
“Yes, I want that,” she rushes out before I can finish my sentence.
I
give her a smile and bring my hands back around to her ass and turn us toward the bed.
“How about I do both.”
Leaning over, I set her down on her back in the middle of the bed. I lean down to kiss her and she lifts her head to meet my lips, but I pull back and give her a grin.
“Tease,” she groans and returns my grin.
I kiss her neck, as I lift my upper body with my hands on the mattress, making sure not to touch her with anything other than my lips. The bedside light is enough for me to see her, and her perfect fucking body. Her skin pebbles as I tease her flesh with my lips. I kiss along her collarbone, the top of each tit. My lips move to the peak and I open my mouth and she’s the one teasing me now, her chest heaving and pulling her nipple away from my lips. My eyes shoot to hers and she cups my head in her hands, biting her lower lip. Still looking at her, I stick my tongue out and lap along the tip of her perfect and so very hard bud. Her eyes flutter closed, her fingers pressing into my head as I inhale her tit, sucking while palming the other.
“Jake,” she moans, her body writhing beneath me.
Her skin is kissed by the sun, her nipples brownish instead of the pale pink that I’m used to and perfect for her. Her voice takes on a huskier tone as her panting dries her throat. She’s perfect, absolutely perfect. I trail my lips along her ribs, down the center of her torso, my nose running around her belly button as her tummy trembles and her legs part. Once I get a smell of her, her pussy, wet and hot and ready for me to fuck her, I can’t play anymore. My hands grasp her hips as I stand and yank her toward the end of the bed, looking down at her and signaling that the teasing and game time is over. I can see by the way she returns my look, that she’s ready for this, for me. Kneeling on the floor, I push her thighs back and begin my feasting. I can’t say I’ve particularly ever enjoyed going down on a woman before. Mainly because Brooke didn’t like it. She said I never made her come or turned her on this way, that it was a waste of time. The memory has me doubting myself, fuck, what if I do suck at this. No, no, fuck Brooke.
Act of Congress Page 6