The knot in Zoe’s stomach was growing. “What does an asshole math teacher have to do with a foreign delegate with connections to terrorists?” She rubbed her face.
Alana smiled as if she was finally getting her point across. “Statistical significance.”
“What?”
“Neanderthals like Mr. Miller and the Chad delegates are predictable. They’re blinded by their egos and don’t see that their actions will have consequences. Statistically, they’re perfect for this type of sting operation because they never see it coming. My payback with Mr. Miller will be when I graduate with my doctorate. He’ll never know, but I’ll know in here.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Each time I see the devastated looks on these men, knowing they’ve been humiliated and defeated through the efforts of the FLC, I imagine it’s Mr. Miller. I lost a scholarship because of him, but I’ll make it anyway. I’m grateful my father didn’t come to my rescue.”
Zoe squeezed Alana’s hand. “I understand, but it’s not worth the risk. Never take unnecessary risks.”
Alana rolled her eyes. “After what I had to do with them, I deserve this. You do, too, considering what’s up for you soon.”
A number of people hovered around the doors to the Oval Office, including Secret Service and Chad’s security. Inside, Zoe could hear loud voices but couldn’t make out what was being said or who was shouting. Alana looked pleased, but Zoe didn’t like the sound of the shouting. “What if they say no?” Zoe leaned over and asked Alana.
She gave a small laugh. “Never happens.” She pulled Zoe to a position adjacent to the front entrance to the Oval Office but far enough away they wouldn’t be seen by those coming out. They were also far enough away that the Secret Service agents weren’t getting bent out of shape.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Zoe said, pulling Alana a little farther away from the entrance.
Alana made a tutting sound with her tongue. “It’s your CIA thing. Really. I’ve done this before. I grew up in a tough neighborhood outside of Boston. These guys don’t scare me.”
There was a loud commotion in the office next to the Oval Office, the office of Eric Rowland, the chief of staff. “Now what?” Zoe asked.
“Rowland must’ve gone in to assist.”
“President Aleid, please come back inside, and we’ll discuss this,” Rowland said calmly. They were in the chief of staff’s office.
“No, we’re done here,” a man with an accent answered. Probably Aleid or Gerard.
“Oh shit.” Alana turned and tried walking down the hallway, but a Secret Service guard stopped them. “They’re coming out of Rowland’s office. They’ll pass right by us,” she whispered to Zoe.
The two Chad delegates barged into the main hallway. Jaws tight, they lashed out with angry words at everyone in the crowded hallway, partly in English, French and Arabic. Thankfully, the hall was crowded with staff, Secret Service and Chad representatives. Zoe pulled Alana against the wall and attempted to block the delegates’ view. The guards shoved through the crowd like a plumber’s snake working through a clogged drain, clearing a path for the two angry delegates.
Zoe quickly turned her back when the men reached her and pulled out her cell phone, pretending to make a call. Alana had her back turned and head down. At least her common sensed prevailed over her arrogance. With any luck, the mob would pass and march out of the White House.
Then the group stopped and voices fell silent. A chill went through Zoe. Slowly, her hand reached for her gun. No gun, of course. An instinctual move. She tried telling herself there was no reason to be concerned. They were in the White House, the most guarded and safest place in the nation.
Suddenly, she was shoved away, and a man, one of the Chad delegates, slammed Alana up against the wall, his hand at her throat. Alana tried to fight him, but one of the African security guards yanked her off her feet, pulling her away from President Turi Aleid.
“It’s you. You bitch,” Aleid shouted at Alana as he glanced at her badge. A second later a Secret Service guard pulled Aleid away. Secret Service grabbed Alana and Zoe and rushed them into Rowland’s office, while the two Chad delegates were rushed away in the opposite direction, escorted by Secret Service and their own security. Aleid shouted, “Ms. MacKenna, I know who you are now.”
President Bryson stood in the doorway between the chief of staff’s office and his own. “What the hell was that all about?”
Rowland pointed to Alana. “She was in the hallway when Aleid came out. He recognized her, saw her badge.”
The president scowled at all of them. “Terrific. In my office. Both of you.” Zoe doubted the American public had ever had the chance to witness that sharp tone of his voice.
Zoe and Alana walked in with their heads hanging low, like two puppies who had gotten caught chewing up the new sofa.
“Sit,” the president ordered. “What were you two doing in the hallway? Nevermind, I can guess. You wanted to see the looks on their faces after I showed them the video?”
“Yes, sir,” they both said together.
“Stupid. Do you know how dangerous these men are?”
Zoe nodded. “I’ve heard, sir.” Alana also agreed.
He rubbed his face. “What a fucking mess.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Alana stared at her shoes.
The president sat on a sofa next to Rowland, his mouth pressed so tight that Zoe feared she’d start hearing his teeth crack. Rowland invited Zoe and Alana to sit on the sofa across from the president.
“Shall I tell Mrs. Bryson to put a hold on future FLC scheduling?” Rowland asked as calmly as possible. If Zoe hadn’t known better, she would have thought he looked pleased that this had happened.
“Relax, Eric. The FLC is Faith’s project, and I’m not about to stop it because of this. Chad signed the peace agreement. Set up a meeting with Frank and General Guzman. I’ll arrange to have Frank keep a twenty-four-hour watch on Ms. MacKenna and have Terrence see how Chad progresses after the news is released.”
“I understand, Mr. President. Right away,” Rowland said as he left the room.
“Mr. President, would you like me to contact anyone from Langley to ask them to keep track of the Chad delegates?” Zoe offered.
The president smiled. “Thank you, Zoe. That won’t be necessary. Our security can handle this.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“Until further notice, Ms. MacKenna, you’ll no longer be connected to the FLC.”
“Yes, sir.” Alana lowered her gaze.
Zoe cringed. That was an interesting way of saying Alana had just gotten fired. Would she be next?
“I don’t see any reason to stop the operation of the FLC. The benefits override the risks,” he added. “As I understand, Ms. Summers, you’re targeted for President Majeed Kadir in a week.”
“Yes, sir,” Zoe tried to say firmly, but the words came out a little weak.
The president leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Do not fuck this one up.”
Her lips trembled. “No, sir. I won’t let you down.”
Chapter Nineteen
At the top of the stairs, Zoe opened the door leading into the West Wing. Jason was waiting for her, or on his way down to meet her. She checked her watch. Ten minutes before noon. “I can’t talk now. I have a meeting with Julia.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t.”
She gasped. “What do you mean?”
Jason stared back at her, no emotion on his face. He nodded to the stairs. “It’s been rescheduled for one. Let’s talk.”
Shoulders slumping, she let out a breath, spun on her heel and marched down the stairs. Somehow, she knew this was going to be bad news.
When they entered her office, he closed and locked her door. Silence thickened the air between them. His expression shifted from stiff business to a scowl she couldn’t interpret. “What’s wrong, Jason?”
His eyebrows shot up, then he frowned. He opened his mouth to
speak, then closed it and shook his head. He mumbled something, swore, then, without warning, grabbed her and shoved her against the desk.
Desperation and hunger flared in his eyes. “Damn it, Zoe.” He drew her to him, cupping her face to lift her mouth to meet his. The kiss melted their bodies together. She heard his intake of breath as he deepened the kiss. She sucked on his tongue, feeling the awakening desire flow through her. Trembling fingers dug at his shirt. She had to feel bare skin and hard muscle. When her cool hands found contact with his heated skin, he groaned in pleasure. Small kisses played at her throat and jawline then took her mouth again. She could hardly breathe but didn’t care. He crushed her to his chest, his hands roaming over her back, sliding under her breasts.
She savored this moment as if it might be their last. What would happen after her encounter? Their missions had a way of screwing with their love life. Was that why sex was so good? They each thought it might be the last time?
“Jason?” she whispered.
“I know.” He breathed by her ear as he tugged on her blouse. “We shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you the last couple days. I want you.” Both of them fumbled with her buttons, opening the blouse to reveal a black lace bra. In the back, he searched for the hook.
“A front one.” She laughed and opened the catch in the front. Every inch of skin was flushed and sensitive to his touch, her nipples already erect. Arching her back, she cried out as his teeth gently clamped over one peak, and then his tongue rubbed the tender skin. She groaned. “That’s so good.”
Maybe they were crazy for doing this now, during daytime hours in her office, but neither of them could stop. “You like to take risks?” He reached under her skirt and yanked hard on her pantyhose. She heard the tear and gasped. He hesitated for a moment, checking her response, and she grinned.
“Yes, and so do you.” That was all the encouragement he needed. He ripped the hose down to her knees and lifted her up on the desk.
The skirt was up around her waist. The heat of desire had her wet. He slid a finger inside her passage, and she leaned back and spread her legs. As Zoe fumbled with his jacket and shirt, he had to stop pleasuring her long enough to remove them. This was how sex was when they were on a mission, hot and desperate. “You want it like this?” he asked.
“Yes.” Then she reached for the waistband on his pants, but he pressed her back on the desk and knelt between her legs. She glanced at him and bit her lip. Skilled fingers played with her sex, teasing her. She opened her legs wider, but the pantyhose restrained her.
“Good. We’re going to play a little.”
She laughed. “We can’t play much. What about my meeting? You said it was rescheduled. I should find out for when.”
“It’s scheduled for one. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” He pulled her shoes off and ripped the pantyhose into two pieces. Then he tied one piece around one ankle and attached it to a leg of the desk and did the same to the other ankle, stretching her legs wide. “That’s a start.”
“Jason, what are you doing?”
“Getting you worked up for what’s coming later.” He removed his belt.
She stiffened. “Are you going to hit me?” The idea made her anxious and her clit throb.
He glanced at the belt, and the corners of his mouth curved up. “Nope. I have another plan. Lie back.” She did, and he moved her hands to one side. He slipped the belt through the buckle and tightened the loop around her wrists, then attached the belt to the arm of the chair.
“Now what?”
“Enjoy,” he said. “And don’t make any noise. Someone might walk by.” He began by massaging her breasts and pinching her nipples, then sucking them. She was so hot, she ached for him. “Jason, make love to me.”
“Not yet.”
If someone had a key and walked into the room right now, they’d see her spread wide in all her glory. His hand worked her cleft, teasing her and thrusting his finger in and out as if he was fucking her. Then he knelt between her legs and used his mouth. Sweet torture. “Are you close?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can come like this.”
“Good.” Just as she was about to orgasm, he stopped. “I’m not ready to let you come yet.”
“Bastard. What time is it? It must be close to one,” she reminded him.
He checked his watch. “So it is.”
She jerked on her restraints. “I can’t be late.”
“Zoe late for a meeting?” he teased. He started getting dressed.
“Jason, what are you doing?” She struggled, but he had tied her down good. She couldn’t get free.
“Going to my meeting. I’m meeting with Julia, too.” He unlocked the door.
“Jason, you bastard. Get back here. You can’t leave me like this.” She laughed with hysteria rising as she yanked on the belt that held her wrists. Twisting and tugging only made the cinched belt tighter.
“Yes, I can.” He opened the door wide. Anyone outside could have seen her exposed.
“Jason,” she whispered. “This is serious. You’ll get me kicked out of the program.”
“Maybe that’s what I want to do.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Zoe kicked and squirmed on the desk top. The belt was secure, and the stockings were knotted so tightly she feared only a knife or scissors would get her out. Did she have a pair of scissors in the desk? How the hell was she going to get free? She couldn’t cry out for help. Swearing through clenched teeth, she gave up the struggle and relaxed. How long would it be until the guard found her like this? How was she going to explain this when he did?
“Damn it. Now what?”
The door opened, and Jason stood there, his face serious. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He did have a slight smile, but he wasn’t laughing. She glared at him. “That was called a mindfuck, and Kadir may use it on you.”
“Was this a lesson? FLC training?” She turned her face away from him. “Bastard.”
He strode over to her and caught her chin with his fingers, turning her to face him. “Yes, partly a lesson. Kadir is not a nice guy. You’ll have to be prepared for the unexpected. If you’re a submissive who shows surprise or defiance at every order, that will give you away. On the other hand, you can’t be completely compliant. That won’t be believable either. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She inhaled, not self-conscious anymore and at the same time not able to look at him. Her wetness saturated her folds, revealing her arousal. There was no denying how turned on she was. Fear continued to invade her thoughts. How could she tell him what she really was afraid of? After all these months, they’d found each other again. The stress of the job had torn them apart last time. Would it happen again?
“Zoe, what’s wrong?”
“Why can’t you just explain various aspects of the submissive and dominant roles? Why do you have to be so dramatic?” She was still mad, and she didn’t try to hide it.
He nodded. “Because being told something and experiencing it are two different things. And we have a time element.”
“Fine. I get it. Is class over?” she snapped.
“No. One more exercise.” He took out a penknife and cut her stockings, releasing her ankles, then untied the belt. She sat up and pulled down her skirt and covered her breasts with her blouse then rubbed her sore wrists.
“Did I tell you to cover yourself?” he scolded her.
His harsh words jolted her. “No.”
“No, what?”
Realizing her mistake and what he was getting at, she lowered her gaze. “No, sir.”
“Now, stand up and remove all your clothing then stand in the middle of the room, feet shoulder-length apart and hands clasped behind your head.”
She looked up at him and frowned, then quickly remembered she had to be wary of her expressions. Reluctantly, she removed her skirt, blouse and bra, placing them on the desk, then stood in the middle of the room as he described. She checked
the door, but couldn’t see if it was locked.
“Don’t worry about the door. I take care of all details.”
With him fully clothed and her naked, she’d never felt so exposed.
“Remember not to make eye contact unless your Dom requests it. Don’t answer these questions, just think about them. How does your body feel right now? How is your breathing? Do you feel nervous, shy, vulnerable? Turned on maybe? Does this seem silly? Is your mind drifting to other things, like will you be late for that meeting?”
She nodded at that.
“I told you I’d take care of the details. You don’t have to worry. Trust me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” He stood directly in front of her. “Now, if I was Kadir doing this and he decided to touch you, could you handle it? Could you disconnect enough so you could surrender to him?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Close your eyes.” She did, then he touched her breasts. Gentle strokes with both hands. Then his fingers slid over her cleft, spreading her juices all over her delicate folds. Zoe gasped. “Imagine I’m Kadir touching you.”
She tried. Her breath quickened, and her heart rate shot up. The idea of Kadir touching her made her uncomfortable. Knowing it was Jason turned her on. So damn much. Savoring every moment, she floated into a new level of sensual delight. Caught between desiring Jason’s touch and wanting to learn how to fake enjoying the touch of an enemy, Zoe fought between desire and disgust.
What shocked her more than anything was how aroused she was right now. She wanted to press her thighs together to ease the throbbing there. Why should she be turned on?
As if sensing her turmoil, he stopped touching her. “Now tell me what you’re feeling. I see your body is shaking.”
She hadn’t noticed, but it was true. “I’m not sure.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Yes, you are. Tell me what you feel physically and emotionally. This is more than an exercise, this is a necessity.” She started to put her arms down, but he stopped her. “Not until you tell me.”
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 44