Filthy Series

by Bliss, Chelle

  “This isn’t just about our feeds,” I say from the edge of the couch I’m sitting on. “The media isn’t going to run with any of our stuff about veterans’ issues right now. It’s going to be this story and nothing else.”

  “But aren’t sex scandals a dime a dozen these days?” I look over to see who said it, and it’s an intern casually leaning against a wall. “I say you apologize deeply and don’t discuss it again after that.”

  There’s a moment of stunned silence before Jude roars, “I didn’t fucking do anything!”

  “Babe.” I lay a hand on his inked forearm. “Keep it down. We don’t want anyone overhearing any of this.”

  He sighs and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair.

  “Fuck,” he mutters.

  I move my hand to his shoulder, which is rock hard with tension.

  “You—” Tyson points to the intern “—are here to fetch coffee and learn. No one gives a shit what you think. Don’t offer any more opinions unless you’re asked to.”

  The intern nods, his face darkening with embarrassment.

  “What the hell is an intern even doing in this room right now?” I ask Tyson.

  He puts his hands up in an I have no idea gesture.

  “I’m loyal,” the intern mumbles.

  I take a deep breath to steady myself.

  “I’m not questioning your loyalty,” I say.

  I look around at the eight people other than Jude and me who are in the room. Everyone has a somber expression.

  “Okay, look. Jude and I need to talk to Tyson alone. The rest of you set up a base camp in someone’s room and start combing through all the news and social media feeds you can find. And get checking with any news sources we have. We need to know who this is and exactly what the allegations are.”

  Jude nods slightly, still staring at the ground, his shoulders hunched.

  Tyson glares at me, his lips pursed. Everyone else quickly files out of the room, and as soon as they’re gone, Tyson moves to stand next to the couch Jude and I are sitting on.

  “I’m in charge of this campaign,” he says to me. “You don’t order the staff around.”

  Jude looks up at him, his brow furrowed. “Are you fucking kidding me? Can you save the pissing match for later?”

  Tyson focuses on him. “Honestly? No. Our responses to this need to be airtight. We can’t be running in different directions. So who’s running this show?”

  “Me.” Jude’s tone sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve rarely heard it, but I know not to push him when he’s like this. I hope Tyson does too. “And my wife is my number two, Tyson, not you, so let’s just get that straight right now.”

  Tyson’s shoulders drop and he says nothing, but I can see he’s still pissed.

  “Tyson,” I say, running my palm up and down Jude’s back as I speak. “I don’t mean any disrespect, truly. I’m just in crisis-response mode, and every minute matters.”

  “Reagan’s thinking straighter than me right now, and she’s right,” Jude says. “The first thing we have to do is have the conversation, and we don’t want anyone in here who doesn’t have to be.”

  Tyson nods, his expression softening. “Okay. I didn’t mean any disrespect either, Reagan.”

  “It’s all good. We’re all pretty tense right now.”

  Tyson sits down in the chair across from the couch. “Monica should be in here for this.”

  Jude shakes his head. “No. She has to go.”

  I interject. “I completely agree.”

  “As soon as we’re done here, call the RNC and get us a line on some coms crisis people,” Jude said. “Veteran people who have weathered this shit before.”

  Tyson nods silently. “You want me to fire Monica, then?”

  Jude considers. “Just demote her. She does great work, but this is way over her head.”

  “Okay.”

  Jude turns to face me then, his rumpled dark hair not matching his serious expression. He pulled on a pair of dark gray sweats and a T-shirt when Tyson called this meeting, and he still looks fresh out of bed. We both do. I’m wearing yoga pants and a “Titan for Tomorrow” campaign T-shirt I grabbed.

  “I know we have to have this conversation, but—”

  “Wait.”

  My heart hammers with worry over what he’s about to say. Did he slip one of those times when I was working and he was lonely? Did he say or do something in a weak moment that he’s about to confess to me?

  Not my Jude, an inner voice says. But there’s another inner voice, the one who was devastated by my father’s affair, telling me that…maybe. Maybe.

  I hush both voices, focusing on the business at hand. “Don’t you think we need a rec on a strategist from the RNC, too?”

  He nods slightly. “I was thinking Janet Fremont.”

  “She’s working for Sheryl Canyon right now.”

  “Ah, shit.” He runs a hand down his scruffy face.

  “Jack Carrigan?” Tyson suggests.

  “He’s good,” Jude says with a nod. “See if we can get him. And if not, call the RNC.”

  “Will do.”

  Jude turns to me again. “I need you to know I didn’t do anything, babe.”

  “I know.” The response just comes out automatically, but I can’t meet his eyes.

  “Guys,” Tyson says in a gentle tone. “Let’s just get this over with, okay? Let me lead it.”

  I give him a grateful look and sit back against the couch, hands in my lap. I really didn’t want to interrogate my husband in front of his campaign manager.

  “Yeah.” Jude takes a sip from his coffee mug and sits back too.

  “Have you had any sort of extramarital physical or intimate contact with anyone?” Tyson starts.

  “No.” Jude’s tone is emphatic.

  “Ever done anything that could have been construed as nonconsensual? And remember, this doesn’t have to be recent. This could be a woman saying you did something inappropriate ten years ago.”

  Jude shakes his head. “No. Even before I was married, I never forced myself on anyone. That’s against everything I am.”

  “Every done any sort of role-playing with a partner?”

  Jude sighs heavily. “No, not really. There was a woman who wanted to call me Daddy back when I was in the Corps, that’s about it. It was just a one-night thing.”

  My stomach twists at the visual his words give me. I hate the idea of my husband screwing any other woman, even if it was before we met.

  “You good, Reagan?” Tyson asks me.

  “I’m fine.”

  He continues. “Ever had sex with someone video-recorded?”

  Jude shakes his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Ever gotten a woman pregnant?”

  My stomach rolls with nausea at the very thought.

  “No.” Jude puts a palm on my thigh.

  “Not to your knowledge, anyway,” Tyson says, looking sheepish.

  “I guess. It’d be a complete fucking shock, though.”

  I swallow hard, my mind racing with possibilities. Just an hour ago, my biggest worry was whether Jude would get on board with my job offer. And now…I’m thinking about the possibility that my husband could have a child out there that he never knew about.

  I want to have his babies. Our babies. The thought of another woman having his baby makes me…

  Tearful. I have to fight back the tears. I almost can’t breathe for a second.

  “Babe.” Jude looks into my eyes. “I swear to you, there’s nothing…nothing.”

  “I…I know.” My voice shakes.

  “Any woman you’ve ever rejected who may feel scorned?” Tyson presses.

  Jude sighs deeply. “I mean…ever? Sure, I’ve rejected women.”

  Tyson makes a note in the small notebook he always carries.

  “Any woman you’ve ever tried to get with who wasn’t interested?”

  “Again”—my husband’s voice is agitated—
“ever? Of course.”

  “These are the people we have to be considering before we know more,” Tyson says. “You know how these things are.”

  “I know.” Jude blows out a breath. “This is nothing, I guarantee it. But that doesn’t stop someone from making an accusation that could cost me my career. My honor.”

  “All we can do for now is hunker down and wait to see what breaks,” Tyson says. “You guys can’t leave this room for now.”

  I nod, my head spinning. Tyson stands up and looks down at us.

  “Think about it and talk about it with Reagan,” he says. “You know the drill—anything you think of, let me know so we can try to get out in front of it. I’ll come update you guys when we get any details.”

  “Thanks,” Jude says solemnly.

  We both stand as Tyson leaves the room, and then Jude turns to me, his dark eyes swimming with emotion.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says softly.

  “It’ll be okay.”

  “You believe me, right? I can’t do any of this without you beside me. I need to know you believe me.”

  “I do, but—”

  “But?” His eyes bulge with disbelief.

  “But like Tyson said, this could be something from your past. Someone you turned down who wants revenge. We just don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

  He nods and closes his eyes for a second, then walks toward me and puts his hands on my hips. “You can’t leave me, Ray. I’ve never been through anything like this, and I have to have you with me.”

  “Well, Tyson quarantined us to this room, so…” My small attempt at humor falls flat.

  “I mean after we get news, too. This changes everything. I need you by my side.”

  To show the world he has a devoted wife. Memories of my father’s sex scandal hit me so hard, I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.

  “I’m here,” I say softly.

  He takes me into his arms then, and I rest my cheek against his chest. His solid warmth envelops me for a few sweet moments, but then the nightmare comes blaring back into my consciousness.

  I know Jude has been faithful to me. But this whole thing still sickens me in a way no one else would understand.

  I have to live the nightmare again. The questions. The judgment. The condemnation.

  True or false, this accusation against my husband is going to change everything.

  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, strok
ing 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.