by Ivy Jordan
I’d wanted a nap after my long bath, but I knew closing my eyes would only bring more memories of Theo, more pain. I might as well get some work done.
I slipped out of the water, the cool air of the hotel room instantly sending goosebumps to my skin. I wrapped myself in the hotel robe, plush, white, and warm. My eyes were adorned with black circles under them as I passed by the mirror. Ugh. I looked ten years older than twenty-three.
A knock on the door startled me. I tiptoed to the door, peeking through the peephole, but whoever was there was too close to make out. I slid the chain across the door to lock it before opening it to see who knocked. Probably someone who had the wrong room.
“Theo?” I asked as he turned to show his face.
He looked like shit. His hair was messy, something I’d only seen early in the mornings, and he had the same dark circles under his eyes as I did.
“I need to talk to you,” he said urgently.
I pushed the door closed, unclasped the chain, and opened it back up to let him inside.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, still confused by his presence.
“I told you. I need to talk to you,” he said with the same irritation in his voice from earlier.
“You need to leave,” I stammered.
“No. You need to listen,” he said, his tone strong and growing angry.
I was shocked by his aggression, rendered speechless as I stood, still dripping under my robe before him.
“You have some serious trust issues. I know that, you know that, but you need to get the hell over them,” he said. “You can trust me, and you need to trust me, because I’m not willing to give up on us yet,” he added.
“I can trust that you’ll cheat. I watched you take that number and put it in your pocket,” I snipped.
His face tightened, and my eyes caught the hard swallow as his Adam’s apple rolled up, and then back down his neck. Theo’s eyes narrowed as he bit his bottom lip, letting out a soft laugh, almost like a growl.
“You’ve pushed me away at every turn. You’re stubborn, critical, and a real pain in my ass, ya know that? But I still want you. Why? I have no freakin’ idea, but I do, Willow,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke.
“I love you, Willow,” he said softly.
My heart ached to say it back. I love you, Theo Carson. I love you with everything I have to give. But I don’t trust you with my love.
“If you don’t love me, that’s one thing. I’ll have to live with that. But if you do, and this is just you comparing me to your asshole ex, or you pushing me away because you’re afraid of getting hurt, I can’t live with that,” he said.
“I saw you, Theo. This isn’t me comparing you. This isn’t me being afraid. This is me telling you that I don’t want another cheater in my life. My heart can’t handle that pain again,” I replied, fighting back the tears already forming in my eyes. “You need to leave, Theo,” I said softly.
Chapter Ten
Theo stood there, staring at me, not budging. My body trembled as I fought to control my pain, my love, my regret. I needed him to walk away, to leave, so I could let myself fall to the floor. If he stood there much longer my, legs would give out. Please don’t let him see me drop to my knees in pain.
“Do you love me, Willow?” he asked, his voice soft and velvety.
My bottom lip trembled as I dug my long nails into my palm to keep my tears from flowing. Too late.
He moved towards me, his arms reaching around me, but he didn’t pull me into his chest where I wanted to be, where I felt safe and warm. His hands rested on my shoulders. They started to shake. His eyes pierced into mine—so blue, so sexy. My tears fell down my cheeks, leaving hot streaks on my skin. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll leave,” he whispered.
I couldn’t.
“I do love you,” I gently sobbed.
His eyes lit up like I’d just given him the best news he’d ever had. It still didn’t mean we had a chance, that I was willing to overlook his shortcomings.
He let his hands fall from my shoulders; one reached behind him, pulling a small baggy from his back pocket. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.
I took it, looking into the clear bag with confusion. “Is this the bracket I lost?” I asked.
He nodded.
“How did you even know what to buy?” I asked, still confused by the gift.
He reached back behind him, pulling a white piece of paper from his back pocket. “This is how,” he said, pushing the familiar paper in my direction.
I looked at the paper that I thought stored Jeanette’s phone number, but instead contained a part number for what I held in my other hand.
He moved towards me, so close I could feel the heat from his body. “You need to trust me,” he said sternly.
I couldn’t speak. I felt like an idiot. I was devastated and elated at the same time. He wasn’t a cheat. He was only getting information from her to replace my lost lens bracket.
Theo’s eyes burned into my soul as they pierced it with a passion I’d never seen. His hands gripped the belt of my robe, tugging it until it slid through the loops, and my robe fell open.
My breathing was rapid, my heart racing, and my pussy was already throbbing in anticipation of what was to come. He let his hands slide around my waist, pulling me into him with a quick thrust. “Promise me,” he whispered as he slid to his knees.
His hot breath surrounded my pussy as he took me in with his eyes. “Promise you what?” I gasped, willing to promise anything at that moment.
“Promise me that you’ll always trust me,” he said, looking up at me with honest, beautiful blue eyes.
“I promise,” I said, believing that I would trust Theo from now on. He wasn’t Mac. “I love you,” I muttered as Theo pushed open my legs, burying his tongue deep in my wet hole.
I cried out with pleasure as he sucked my clit, rolling his tongue over my sensitive pearl and bringing me so close to orgasm I had to pull him away before my legs gave out.
His grin was delicious, knowing he was bringing me so close to climax with just a few flicks of his tongue. He slithered up my body, sliding the robe from my shoulders and onto the floor. His eyes glowed a shade of blue I’d only seen when he was on stage, and then his mouth pushed into mine.
I could taste my juices on his tongue as it entangled mine. His hands roamed my body, stopping on my ass cheeks and lifting me from my tip-toed feet. He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, letting my pussy glide across the hard cock lying beneath the scratchy denim of his jeans.
I fell onto the bed as he let me go, my body bouncing gently on the mattress before finding its place to settle. Theo reached towards me, placing his hands on my knees. My legs were together, hiding what he’d just tasted from his view, and it was obvious he wasn’t pleased by the tilt of his head and the look in his eyes.
He pushed my legs apart, revealing the sweet pink flesh he craved. My nipples tightened as he smiled with satisfaction at the sight.
His hands worked quickly to slide his t-shirt from his beautiful abs and undo his jeans to reveal the hard cock pressed uncomfortably against the denim.
My eyes took him in, loving everything about him, every curve, every ripple, every delicious inch of the meat hanging between his muscular thighs.
He slid onto the bed, pushing me towards the headboard with his hand under my ass. Our lips met with a passionate kiss, sending tingles through my entire body. Fingers playfully pushed my labia open, and then tickled my opening until I squirmed.
A foil package crinkled in Theo’s left hand as he worked to open it. His mouth sucked my nipples, one at a time, with quick suction and a gentle graze of his teeth that made me squeal with delight.
He lifted his weight from me to slide on the condom, and then pressed his hard cock between my legs.
I gasped as he entered me, slowly at first. My body still wasn’t used to the enormous size of his manhood, rendering me unable t
o move or rock my hips against him until I adjusted.
He slid in deeper, causing me to moan. My hips ached to move, but they didn’t dare, knowing he’d take it slow, and be gentle.
I throbbed against him, my pussy already teased and close to orgasm. “Come for me,” he whispered, pushing into me deeper.
My body was pinned to the mattress by his hard cock, throbbing, shaking, and loving every second of the sensations that exploded through me.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, beginning to thrust in and out slowly.
My orgasm lubricated his large muscle, allowing him to glide easily in and out of my still-throbbing cunt. His thrusts grew faster, harder, and my moans grew louder and deeper.
His hands slid underneath me, pushing my ass towards him, and him deeper into my body. Our mouths locked together, our tongues entangled, and he rolled me to my side.
I pushed him over to his back, taking my position on top. My hips spread wide open as the weight of my body pushed him deep inside me. The look in his eyes as his hands cupped my breasts brought me closer to another orgasm.
I rocked my hips against him, grinding my clit into his rippled abs for friction. Moans filled the room, my head grew dizzy, and my bottom lip trembled from the sheer pleasure erupting between my legs.
Theo’s hands slid down my sides, stopping at my hips. He pushed me back against his long shaft, and then pulled me forcefully back towards him, in long, hard thrusts. His cock grew, filling me as it began to pulsate and twitch between my legs,
His body tensed, his grip tightened around my hips, and the thrusting stopped as we both exploded onto one another in sweet ecstasy.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. My breathing was starting to calm, and my heart rate slowing back to normal as my eyes opened, and looked down to his. “I love you, Willow,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Theo,” I gasped.
Epilogue
The crowd at the coliseum was going wild as Lion’s Den took the stage. They were opening for Twenty-One Pilots, a dream Theo’d had for years. I pushed through the crowd to the front of the stage, holding my camera steady for some action shots. I planned to use the photos for their new album cover, their third album.
The band had really taken off, and I couldn’t’ve been happier for Theo.
The opening song was one Theo had written for me. It was sweet, sexy, and described our relationship perfectly. He really did have talent.
When they were on their last song, I snuck around the stage and to the back where Lark and the other band member’s wives all cheered as they watched the show. Bobby, Lark’s new husband, gripped her tightly around her waist as he swayed against her back to the beat of the music. I couldn’t believe they’d only met a year ago and were already married.
Kayla, Benny’s wife, was sporting a very obvious baby bump, and their third anniversary was coming up later that month. I was happy in my relationship with Theo, but I was beginning to worry it was growing stagnant, not moving forward like it should. Everyone else seemed to be moving on. I felt left behind, stuck.
I knew Theo loved me, and I loved him. But, we were still in that townhouse, even though he talked about selling to find a bigger place all the time. We’d never talked about marriage, or kids. Maybe that wasn’t what he wanted.
My camera aimed at Theo, taking a shot of him exiting the stage. His eyes were wild, filled with excitement, and focused on only me. Damn, I loved that man.
My photography business had really taken off, too, so we both had plenty to be thankful for. The rest, the things that kept me up at night, like a new house, marriage, kids, those would come. I was sure of it. Someday.
“Man, I hope you got some good shots,” Benny roared as he ran from the stage. He rubbed Kayla’s belly, leaning down to kiss it before giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Sal was so excited he was shaking, and Paul, well, he was only interested in grabbing a passionate kiss from his new wife, Selina.
“This has been an amazing night,” Theo said, his eyes still dancing as the crowd screamed for more.
“You finally got everything you always wanted,” I smiled, loving the fact his dreams were all coming true.
“Almost everything,” he said gently as he lowered to one knee in front of me.
My heart raced as he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it to reveal the most beautiful diamond I’d ever seen.
“Willow. Knowing you trust me, that you love me, it’s made me a better man. You’ve given me the motivation I needed to reach my highest goals, and with you by my side, I know now there’s no goal too high to reach. None of this means a damn thing without you. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife, sharing in this beautiful life with me, until death do us part,” he said, his voice choking as his eyes welled up.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, gripping him tightly and pulling him to his feet.
He lifted me from the ground, swinging me around as our lips met. I couldn’t imagine a better way to end the night—and to start my life.
“You better get out there,” I whispered, motioning to the stage. The crowd was wild, wanting an encore, so Theo let me go, but quickly turned back for another kiss before following the guys on stage for one last song. “I love you, Willow,” he shouted.
“I love you too!” I called back over the crowd.
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MR PRESIDENT
By Ivy Jordan
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Ivy Jordan
Chapter One
The small Minnesota office was crowded with campaign staff, supporters, and the hopeful presidential candidate, Adam Andrews, current governor of the state.
He looked so confident, so calm. I was falling apart inside, my nerves beginning to get the better of me as the reporter updated the race. One by one, Adam was winning the major states, and it was looking like a clear victory.
“Another glass of wine?” Adam whispered in my ear.
His hot breath startled me as it rolled down my neck from behind. “Yes, please,” I smiled, trying to hide my nerves as he handed me the glass of chardonnay. “It’s looking good,” I said, staring up at the large television hanging on the desolate blue wall.
I wondered what this office would be once we cleared out, what it was before we arrived. “I’m a mess,” he admitted, still with confidence that made him unbelievable.
I chuckled. “You look fine to me.”
His smile was wide and inviting, contagious, and nearly intoxicating. “I hide my stress well,” he sighed.
Unlike me, I thought to myself. The soft blue eyes he laid upon me made it clear he thought I needed some assurance.
Adam, 49 years old, a veteran that served in the U.S Air Force, ranked Chief Master Sergeant, was twenty years younger than his presidential rival, Grant Owens, a loud cowboy with outdated views and unorganized thoughts.
Adam was a Democrat, and everyone said our country was in need of a party change. I agreed, and strongly believed in everything Adam stood for and behind.
“What are your plans when this is all over?” he asked, staring directly at me instead of the television that held his fate.
“I guess I’ll go back to the paper,” I smiled, unsure if that was what I truly wanted.
“Ah, yes. You were a force to be reckoned with there. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you back,” he stated, his eyes shifting from mine to the screen above.
I hated to admit I had a crush on him, one that would somehow be amplified if he was truly going to be our president.
The reporter soon announced Adam Andrews the winner without the final states being calculated. There was no way Owens could win, even with the remaini
ng states. That was it. I was standing next to the next President of the United States.
The entire office cheered, letting off confetti bombs into the air as their yells of victory flooded the room. “Congratulations,” I shouted over the noise.
He sipped his wine, smiled, and then set his glass down on the table behind us. I watched as he took center room, commanding authority effortlessly, and exuding confidence that was more than strong: it was sexy.
I gulped my wine, emptying my glass as he thanked everyone for their support. My moment of excitement and happiness was quickly glazed over with sorrow, realizing I would no longer be spending long hours by his side.
My desk was cluttered with campaign materials and only one small picture frame. I picked it up, staring at the woman inside the tiny frame, her head bald, her eyes worn and tired, and her smile, faded, but present. Rowena Hamilton, my older sister, and one of the strongest women I knew, or had ever known. Only a few years older than myself, she’d carved herself an important editorial position at a prestigious paper in Washington D.C, raised twin boys, both in medical school, and survived cancer.
She hated that I gave up my position as a journalist to run Adam’s campaign. She had pushed me my entire life to chase my dreams, and she didn’t believe Adam had a chance in hell against the quick-talking cowboy he was up against. Rowena was wrong for once, a revelation that both shocked and pleased me.
There wasn’t much else on or in my desk I needed to gather, just a few notebooks with my campaign strategies scribbled inside, and a picture taken with Adam at one of the rallies.
I shoved the small picture frame and notebooks into my purse and then held the picture of Adam and myself between my fingers. In it, he wore the blue polo that I encouraged him to wear. It brought out the blue in his eyes and made him impossible to ignore. He was casual and relaxed that day, and when the picture was taken, his hand was resting on my lower back. I could still feel the sensation of my weakened knees, tightened breasts, and speeding heart from his touch.