Filthy Series

by Bliss, Chelle

  Her kiss grows more demanding as my fingers circle around her 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.”

  “One day at a time,” I remind him. “There’s no evidence that you did what she says, but there may be evidence that you didn’t. Let’s let it play out.”

  He tightens his hold on me. “No matter who we bring on for communications and strategy, you and I get the final say on everything. I trust your judgment more than anyone’s.”

  I close my eyes, my lips curving up in a smile. It feels good to hear him say those words, even after all this time together.

  “We’ll be okay,” I say softly. “No matter what happens, we’ll be okay.”

  “I hear you, babe, I really do.” His tone is defeated. “But integrity is everything to me. I don’t care if I lose fairly, as long as I worked my hardest. But this… Fuck, I really don’t want to go down like this.”

  I press my cheek to his chest, wishing I had words of reassurance. But I don’t. If these charges can’t be proven false, Jude won’t recover from being accused of sexual harassment. Even if he wins the race and becomes governor, having his honor questioned will last forever for him.

  16

  Jude

  “In closing, I vehemently deny the allegations against me. I’m a man of my word, and as a Marine, my honor is everything to me. I never touched the woman in question, nor any woman, in a suggestive or inappropriate manner. I may be a senator and running for the governorship, but above all else, I’m a devoted and loyal husband.” I step back from the podium as reporters rise to their feet, hurling questions like they hadn’t heard a word of my official statement.

  This is the dirty side of politics. The reason why so many good people who could really help better our country stay far away. Everyone has a skeleton or two in their closet, but no one wants to risk that indiscretion becoming public knowledge. Then there are the lies that are created to damage a person’s creditability. Planting the seed in any voter’s mind is dangerous.

  The one thing I know is that I never touched that woman or any woman besides my wife in well over five years. I never even thought about having an affair. But that didn’t stop the lies from landing on my doorstep.

  “You were fabulous,” Reagan says as she wraps her arms around my stomach as soon as I make my way backstage, and she hugs me tightly. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

  I kiss the top of her head, closing my eyes so I can forget everything around me for just a moment. I try to block out the low murmur of the reporters in the other room as they scramble to get their story submitted for the evening news. Tyson’s on the phone, yelling at someone about something I probably don’t even want to know about.

  “I love you,” I whisper into her hair and take a deep breath, losing myself in her familiar scent. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  There’s nothing but truth in that statement. She’s my other half, the feisty liberal half, but still vital in everything I am and will continue to be.

  She tilts her head back and stares up at me. “You’ll never get rid of me, Jude.”

  In the last five years, I’ve seen marriages end for much less than a simple allegation. Distance spent apart is usually the crushing factor, but I refuse to let any of it do us in. When I said my vows and promised until death do us part, I meant every single word.

  I take a deep breath and utter the words I never wanted to say, “Should I drop out?”

  Her eyes widen as she leans back, staring at me in disbelief. “You will do no such thing. That’s admitting defeat, and in a way, proving to the world you’re guilty. You will not drop out of this race. Do you understand?”

  I nod and somehow manage a smile. “I don’t want to drop out, but I would for you, Reagan. Only for you.”

  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my wife, including giving up my career in politics if I knew it would make her happy. If there were any chance my career would destroy our marriage, I’d give my resignation and never look back without a single thought or regret.

  She slides her hands to my front, placing her palms against my chest. “I can take the heat, especially when I know they’re lies. You fight and don’t stop until you’re sitting in the governor’s office.”

  “We’re sitting in the governor’s office,” I remind her.

  This isn’t a one-man show. To the public, it may be, but I value Reagan’s advice even though I don’t always take it. We may be polar opposites on almost every issue, but she helps me understand the other side of the argument. She’s the biggest asset to my political career even if the people around me don’t see it that way.

  “Have faith that it’ll all work out.”

  She’s always so upbeat and somehow believes in the good. But I’ve seen too much of the bad win in this world, including her father, to allow myself to buy into any fairy tales.

  Tyson stalks across the backstage area, clutching his phone in his hands. “We may have gotten a break.”

  “What?” My fingers tighten on Reagan’s side as I gaze over her head. “How?”

  “There’s a lot of video footage from the event in question. My people are scouring every moment, trying to find the few moments you spent with her. If we can show proof, people can no longer take her claim seriously, and we can move forward.”

  Of course. I hadn’t even thought about the dozens of reporters and the hundreds of supporters in attendance, all taking video and photos from every angle possible. There’s never a moment of a rally that isn’t on tape in some shape or form. There has to be something to prove my innocence, or at least, I hope there is… God, I hope there is.

  “Good work, Tyson.” Reagan turns in my arms and smiles at him. Their new respect for each other is nice but unsettling at the same time.

  “Hopefully, they’ll find something on the tapes,” I say.

  “If you met her, it’ll be on them. I had cameras everywhere. Plus, your supporters all had their phones out
. If it happened, someone would’ve taken a photo or video,” Tyson tells us.

  “It didn’t happen,” I repeat because, for some reason, I feel like Tyson hasn’t believed me.

  “I know. I know.” He nods slowly before pursing his lips. “We’re going to crush that bitch.”

  “Tyson,” I hiss. “Don’t ever use that demeaning language with me and especially not in front of my wife.”

  “No.” Reagan turns her face toward me. “She is a bitch.”

  “Okay. Okay. So now we wait and hope we have something to vindicate me.”

  “Yeah,” Tyson says with a sigh. “This should all be over in forty-eight hours.”

  From his mouth to God’s ears.

  “Let’s get lost for the evening,” Reagan says to me, running her palms up my bare forearms. “What do you say?”

  I glance over at Tyson, waiting for him to object, but he waves me off. “I thought you’d never ask,” I tell her and move toward the doorway, holding her hand, without so much as a backward glance.

  * * *

  My hands are over her eyes as we enter the hotel room. During dinner, I slipped away and had everything set up in the penthouse I rented for the night. I didn’t want Tyson to be able to find us, and I wanted the evening to be more special than it would’ve been in our normal hotel suite.

  “Why won’t you let me see?” she asks as the door closes behind us, sealing us away from any prying eyes and the world outside.

  “One second,” I tell her with my mouth next to her ear. My eyes sweep across the room, making sure everything is perfect. I’m actually surprised the concierge was able to pull everything off so quickly down to the last detail. “Now that we’re here, no more talking about anything except us. Are we clear?”

  She shivers in my arms as my breath skids across her skin. “Yes, Jude,” she replies in a small, soft voice. “I understand.”