Yes, Prime Minister

by Aria Cole

  She shot back instantly, asking about the occasion.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip, knowing that even though she was my closest friend, it was too soon to spill the beans about this little tryst. So instead, I went with a generic, “Got a date.”

  The phone rang immediately.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you bailed early to get ready for a date? I would have come with you!”

  I ran a finger along the deep V of one little black dress. “It’s no big deal. I don’t even think he likes me. More like a working dinner, I think.”

  “So he works at Langevin Block?” She grew more excited.

  I sighed. “No. Yes? Sort of.”

  “What does ‘sort of’ mean? Don’t tell me you’re going out with that grungy elevator guy that was here the other day.”

  I nearly choked on my tongue. “Nope, definitely not him.”

  She giggled. “Well, I’ve never heard you talk about going on a date, and a girl can never be too cautious.”

  “I’m fine. This guy is trustworthy.”

  “Good. Now, I say go with the short white one. It will really get his attention,” Jordan piped up.

  “Do you think that’s a bit slutty, though? More club, less fine dining?”

  “Oh, this is a fine dining date tonight? Okay, well, in that case, go with the classic little black dress. Slimming in all the right places, and that deep V-neck will make your tits look great.”

  I groaned again. “I’m not sure ‘Look at my tits!’ is really the message I want to send…”

  “Don’t be such a prude. Those high necklines you wear are for the office only. Lighten up a little, Juliette.”

  I slipped a finger across the lace-edged fabric. “Okay. I’ve worn it once since I got it three years ago.”

  A date with the prime minister felt like as good a reason as ever to wear my fanciest dress.

  “Good, now do you need me to come over and do your hair and makeup? You really should have told me. I could have planned and brought my case. But the cheap stuff you have will probably work too.”

  “No, I’m okay. I’m not going too wild, just a little more eyeliner.”

  “And a red lip! Don’t forget the red lips. It makes men want to kiss it off your lips.”

  I laughed. “What if I don’t want him kissing me?”

  “Seriously, it’s not the elevator guy, is it?”

  “No!” I nearly snorted laughing. “I’m hanging up. I’ve got to meet him in an hour.”

  “Only an hour? Oh my God, you’d better hurry. And take a picture! I want to see the finished product.”

  “Jordan, I’m not a product—”

  “Tonight, you are. Have fun, sweets.” The phone line was dead a moment later.

  I tossed my phone down, shrugging out of the demure dress I’d worn to the office and slipping the short black one over my shoulders. I posed in front of the mirror, taking in my curvy form. My boobs did look amazing, Jordan wasn’t wrong about that, even if they were a little more exposed than I was used to. Still tasteful, though, I thought. I made a mental note to shove a scarf in my purse in case I got too uncomfortable or chilly.

  My eyes traveled the length of the mirror down to the tips of my bare toes. I pulled a pair of the highest heels I owned from the shelf, over four inches and black glitter, and slipped them on. With the extra height and the curve of my leg, my ass stuck out a little more, but in a surprisingly good way. In a way that exaggerated my curves and gave me an extra boost of confidence.

  Next, I went into the bathroom and got to work freshening my makeup, lining my eyes with super dark kohl liner, and sweeping on an extra coat of mascara. I dug through my makeup case and pulled out the softest shade of pinkish-red I owned—no fire-engine red lips here—and then found myself waiting not so patiently. I put a few extra curls in my hair, fanning them out so they fell around my shoulders in soft waves.

  This would have to be good enough.

  It wasn’t too flashy—me, but a little enhanced.

  I headed out to my kitchen, ready to catch a cab back to Langevin and meet Bryce, when a loud knock echoed through my apartment.

  I rushed to the door, pressing my eye to the peephole to find who I now knew to be Locke, Bryce’s top security guy.

  “Hi.” I flung the door open. “Is something wrong?”

  “PM is ready for you,” he said simply.

  “Oh.” I swiped up my purse. “I thought I was meeting up with him, but okay.”

  “He finished early.” Locke held the door while I passed him, then spun and turned the lock. He walked outside with me silently, opening the door to an SUV with tinted windows.

  I slid across the leather seat, surprised to find Bryce waiting, a bouquet of blush pink roses in hand.

  “Feels like an eternity since I last laid eyes on you.” His whisper was rough at my neck, sending sensation spiraling through my veins. “I need to taste you.”

  FOUR

  Bryce

  I dropped the dozen roses on the floor at my feet and pulled her to me, my hands cupping the creamy flesh of her cheeks as my tongue split the seam of her delicate mouth. Her chest heaved in uneven little breaths as her fingers wove into my hair, tugging softly at the nape and causing a low growl to tumble from my lips.

  “I’m already addicted.”

  Her sweet smile turned up at me, warm eyes hovering on mine and holding my heart captive.

  “Addicted to what?” The na?ve tone in her voice made my dick pound.

  “You.” I breathed at her neck. “Your skin, your lips, your scent.” I ran my nose along the shell of her ear, loving the shudder that pulsed through her. “And look at your reaction to my touch.” I slid a fingertip down her bare arm. “That may be my favorite thing.”

  Her throat contracted as she swallowed quickly, eyes averting when Locke slid into the front seat, whisking us off down the street.

  “I hope you don’t mind what I’ve got planned. It’s tough to have dinner at just any old place with a security detail following you at all times.”

  “Whatever works best for you works for me.” She smiled.

  “What works best for me is you, much closer.” I pulled her a little tighter against my hard body, already anxious to run my hands along all of her curves and dips.

  “I can catch a cab home too. I don’t want to put you out. I know you’re so busy, and even making time for this dinner—”

  “Date,” I interjected, a little ruffled that she wasn’t quite getting it. I wanted her, period. This wasn’t something I’d penciled in. I had enough casual acquaintances and business contacts to last a lifetime. What I wanted was something real.

  What I wanted was sitting right across the seat from me.

  “Not if I have any say in it, you won’t,” I finally spat out.

  “What?” she asked, seemingly startled by my gruff tone.

  I softened my voice an octave, still letting her know I meant what I said—and I did what I said too. “You’re stuck with me all night. If you go home, I’ll take you there.”

  “Really? But I just thought—”

  “Seems to me you’re doing a little too much thinking, Juliette. My grand-m?re always said ‘Tu te prends la t?te.’ Whenever I was upset over a political science essay or exam, she’d say ‘Tu te prends la t?te.’ You spend too much time worrying and not enough time doing.”

  Juliette’s grin turned up. “She sounds wise.”

  “She was. Her name was Juliette too. That’s what first struck me, your name. You don’t hear it so much anymore. It’s beautiful.” I traced the edge of her mouth with one finger, noticing the way her thighs shifted back and forth in the seat, her hands fidgeting as she tried to look anywhere but at me.

  “I aim to take care of you, Juliette. You should know that.” I looped her fingers with my own, stressing the importance of my feelings. “I don’t let people in for obvious reasons, but at some point over the last few weeks, I couldn’t keep you out anymor
e. So we’re here. And now that we’re here, you’ve gotta know… I put my lips on you, and that’s it for us. My lips on your skin are like a brand, and I don’t share.”

  Her eyes were finally holding mine, focused and affectionate as she listened.

  “If we go in here—” I nodded out the window as the car pulled to a slow stop “—that’s it for me. I’m all in with you, Juliette.”

  Her rapid heartbeat fluttered in her throat, her lips softening just as Locke parked the car, stepping out to swing Juliette’s door open.

  “Well, Ms. Alexandre?” I dusted a kiss across the soft underside of her wrist.

  She swallowed, eyes never wavering from mine once, before she whispered, “I’m yours.”

  Those two simple words slammed into my chest, nearly knocking the air from my lungs.

  I couldn't help the cocky grin that stretched my cheeks as I guided her out of the back of the vehicle, nodding once at Locke in thanks. That man had been nothing but good to me, had put up with so much, and now had to overlook intimate moments like that one. I owed the guy a beer and a cigar, at least.

  A hand went to Juliette’s chest, her mouth dropping when her eyes trailed up to the clock tower perched on Parliament Hill.

  “I know you look at this old thing from work every day, but seeing it from the top down is a whole other experience.” I slipped my hand into hers, our shoulders brushing as we stood looking up at one of the city’s oldest and most historic buildings.

  “Wait, we’re going up there?” She pointed to the top.

  “Unless you’ve got a problem with heights, you bet.”

  “I don’t, but I just never expected to be coming here.” Her eyes were wide, a smile brimming on her lips.

  “Good. Just an FYI, though, even if you were afraid of heights, I was prepared to carry you if that’s what it took.” I placed a kiss on her hand before we walked through the side entrance of the parliament building, gothic spires shooting high into the air, and the most romantic setting I could think of for our first date.

  “You may need to carry me after all.” She teased a few minutes later when we were climbing up the narrow set of stairs.

  “You never have to ask twice.” I hoisted her into my arms, a small shriek echoing off the walls as her hands slid down her thighs to keep her dress down.

  Locke was perched at the bottom of the private staircase, with more security posted in the rooms and outside. Parliament was closed to the public by this time of day, but sitting smack in the middle of the city made it an elevated security risk. I’d arranged for the clock tower to be completely private for the next few hours, not that anyone was ever usually up there anyway.

  “I found this place my first year in office. Sometimes I jog around the river and end up here, looking out over all the buildings and people. Makes you feel small, really puts life into perspective.”

  “I bet,” she said, eyes watching me intently. I wondered what that look was that was burning in her gaze. I hoped it was something similar to what I was feeling—wild, reckless desire.

  “Welcome to the top of the city,” I said when we reached the top landing, setting her on her feet. Her hands went to her lips instantly, and she twirled in a circle as she took in the incredible panoramic view we had of both Ottawa and Quebec, the river lacing its way in between.

  “This is so beautiful.”

  “Few things quite compare.” I snaked my hands around her waist, pulling her back against me. “I’m also hoping you like Italian food.”

  “Sure, who doesn’t? Why?” She spun, catching my gaze.

  “Another surprise.” I lifted a white linen napkin on the table I’d had set up just for us. “Bon app?tit.”

  “Oh my God, Bryce.” My name on her lips was an instant shot of lust to my balls. My spine tingled, and slow waves of desire for her chugged through my body.

  “You can’t say stuff like that, not before we’ve even eaten, at least.” I pulled a chair out for her then poured her a glass of champagne.

  “How did you manage all of this?” she asked, still in shock.

  “I know a few people.” I shrugged, pouring my own glass before sitting in the chair across from her. The table was so small our knees brushed together, just like I’d wanted it. There wasn’t room up here for something bigger anyway, and getting the little two-top round table up here had been difficult enough, given the way Locke had grumbled about it.

  That’s right, I’d gotten my right-hand security guy in on this one.

  My date with Juliette had to be perfect. I knew first impressions were everything, and I had to show her that, despite the fact that I was the prime minister, I was willing to make time for her. I wanted her in my life, and I had to show her where she fit, had to prove to her she’d been the one missing link all along.

  “So what’s on the menu tonight, Prime Minister Gallagher?” The sexy lilt in her voice was meant to drive me crazy, I knew it.

  “Oyster and asparagus truffle gnocchi.” I shot her a wink. “Thought I’d hedge my bets on the aphrodisiacs.”

  Her soft giggle was like a bird’s song on my ears. “Prime Minister, you’re kind of a sure bet.”

  My heart shuddered to a halt.

  I was completely done for with this one.

  FIVE

  Juliette

  Bryce’s hands slid up my waist, strong, powerful hands spread so wide it felt like he was consuming me.

  Just one glance from him was like a nuclear bomb to my chest cavity. It’d been hard as hell to stuff down a delicious Italian dinner because sitting across from him caused everything but the small area between my thighs to shut down.

  “I’m so damn glad you said yes.” His throaty voice whispered at my ear and sent a lightning bolt straight to my clit.

  “Looking back, I’m not sure I had much of a choice.” I teased, pushing a hand behind his head and into his hair.

  He pressed my back to the hard wall of his chest, one palm spreading across my abdomen and moving farther south, centimeter by centimeter. “You didn't have a choice.” He skimmed my pelvis, sliding a hand down my thigh until his fingers caught in the short hem of my dress. “I would have found some way to convince you to see me.”

  “I see you every day,” I murmured, my mind starting to fizzle, the touch of his hands almost unbearably arousing.

  “Not like this, you don’t.” Bryce nipped at my earlobe as his fingers danced under my dress, sliding between my thighs. A soft moan fell from my lips when he locked my wrists behind me with one hand, forcing me into submission.

  Violent strikes of lightning tore through my core as his hand slid closer and closer to my damp thighs. My panties were only a scrap of lace anyway…and were now a wet scrap of lace. Would he like me? Would I be good enough for him? Did I really have the ability to turn this man on?

  “Oh God,” I whispered, every muscle in my body twitching with a wave of pleasure when his fingertips made contact with my lace-covered pussy. A low rumble burned past his lips as he worked small circles around my clit, causing soft shudders and pleas for more to empty out of me.

  “I can smell how turned on you are for me, beautiful.” His words nearly ripped an orgasm from my willing body.

  I sucked in shallow breaths, trying to form a single thought, when his thumb slipped under the elastic of my panties, fingering the little nub and causing my knees to bubble. His powerful body held me pinned against him, supporting me as he simultaneously brought me to my knees with his beautiful hands.

  I would never be the same again.

  My life would forever be thought of as before and after. Before my night with the prime minister, and the life that came after.

  Even if we only ever had this, this would be enough. No one in my life had ever touched me so intimately, no one had made me feel so crazed with lust. Just knowing a man like him existed, was meant just for me, and was enough to fuel me far into the future.

  “Been dreaming of what sound you’d ma
ke when you come, Juliette.” The way his tongue curled around my name was like a long, slow fuck. Delicious, leaving me needy for more. I could listen to him read legislative bills and die a happy woman. And then if he slipped in some French…sweet Jesus, there was no coming back from this man.

  Bryce Gallagher was perfection.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” I confessed breathlessly.

  His hand worked quicker circles as the lit-up skyline of Quebec sparkled back at us. “Oh, yeah?” His fingers quickened. “You were on my mind too.” His words tingled through me. “Tell me, did you make yourself come thinking of me?”

  I clamped down on my lip, clutching at his hand as I tried to control my reaction to him. “No.”

  I’d wanted to. God, how I’d wanted to, but something inside had told me to wait. Just wait.

  I was so glad I’d waited.

  “Next time, I want you to, sweet Juliette.” He pressed one finger to my entrance, sinking in slowly. “And then tell me about it.”

  The combination of his thumb working deft figure eights at my clit and his finger sliding inside and stroking my bundles of nerves sent shockwaves coursing through me. My release pulsed, my toes curling and my brain shooting off into another time zone. In this reality, everything else ceased to exist. All that was real were his hands on me, his lips spouting his own form of erotic poetry, and his eyes doing that sparkling thing as they looked me up and down.

  Everything about Bryce overwhelmed me to the core, and suddenly, I knew exactly what he meant when he’d said there was no going back for us. There wouldn’t be any going back for me either. No other man had ever had this effect on me—so primal, so raw, so deep-seated.

  I needed him as desperately as I needed oxygen to breathe, I knew that more than anything else in that instant.

  “I’m so glad I didn’t come.” I turned, a slow smile curving my lips.