by Ryan, Alison
MARY HELEN CASTLEBERRY (Maiden name: POLK)
DOB: 8/19/48
FIRST LADY OF THE UNITED STATES 1992-2000
I dropped the dossier on the desk. I hadn’t known the former first lady was one of my father’s clients. I turned over the front page to see what was in the rest of the folder.
There were photos of her at events, her plastic smile splashed across glossy pictures, her husband (former President Castleberry) at her side. Nothing earth shattering. I wasn’t sure what the purpose was until…
The next photos. Much more revealing. Taken from the outside of a home, clearly by someone spying on her in either her bedroom or maybe a hotel room. It was the First Lady straddling someone. She was naked and despite being in her 50s at the time of the photos, her body was fit and beautiful.
As was the other woman’s body she was straddling.
Oh boy. That would be a scandal if it ever came out. Former First Lady has a lesbian lover?
I closed the folder, feeling intrusive. This was none of my business.
I pulled out another dossier. I immediately recognized the photo.
HARRISON BLYTHE
DOB: 11/11/74
JUNIOR SENATOR OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF VIRGINIA
He’d just been elected the previous year. He was one of the youngest members of the Senate and had previously been a Congressman for the district my aunt lived in. He was an up and coming politician that everyone assumed would one day run for president.
There weren’t photos of him though. Just a detailed description of a murder he’d committed when he was attending Georgetown. He’d beaten his own father to death after catching him trying to rape his younger sister. Harrison had been home for Thanksgiving break and had caught his father the night before he was supposed to go back to school. Harrison’s mother had apparently hired my father’s firm to clean up the mess. The world thought his father had been attacked by a random intruder. He’d been hailed as a hero and a martyr.
This case file told a completely different story.
To say I was shocked, would be the understatement of the century.
What the hell kind of firm did my father run?
I shouldn’t have looked at any more of them. It felt wrong, like I was reading someone’s diary. It was just folder after folder of secrets, scandals, lies covered up. Most of them were politicians and world leaders. There were a few movie stars sprinkled among them, athletes, and musicians. Some of them I recognized as parents of kids I’d gone to boarding school with. My father had files on everyone, detailed, many with photographic evidence or signed confessions and contracts.
I opened a second drawer and found a series of folders marked with tabs that read “ATLAS TITAN.” and each listed a corresponding continent. There was even a thin “Antarctica” file. I pushed the drawer shut and set my elbows on the desk, dropping my head into my hands.
It seemed like my father did a lot of fixing. He fixed problems, he hid things for people. They trusted him with their darkest confidences and he in turn kept them locked up in a sense.
“You okay?”
Nolan again. He stood against the threshold of the door to the study, his arms crossed, looking at me. His expression was one of concern now and sadly, since last I’d seen him he’d managed to find a clean shirt.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “I’m so confused. What does his firm do? Keep people’s secrets? Or hang them over their heads?”
Nolan smiled, stepping forward, “Both, sometimes. But mostly we help protect people. From themselves, from people finding out the truth. We clean up things for powerful people. Which in turn gives us a kind of power.”
“I didn’t think my dad cared about power,” I replied. “I feel so stupid. I thought he was a lawyer.”
“He was,” Nolan said, sitting in the chair across from me. “He held a JD from Columbia. He was licensed to practice. And like many lawyers, he kept his clients’ secrets. But it was more than that too. He protected them. We protect them. From people who wish to do them harm.”
I shook my head, “So you’re spies?”
Nolan shrugged, “We don’t work for the CIA. But we’re definitely an army of intelligence. Outsourced intel, if you will. The Hunt Group has members all over the world, working for dignitaries, world leaders, the wealthy. The one percent of the one percent of the one percent.”
“I see,” I said. “The Hunt Group. I never even knew the name of his company. He made it sound like it was just a typical law firm. He lied to me my whole life.”
“No,” Nolan said. “Don’t look at it that way. I’m sure you’re familiar with the legal term ‘plausible deniability’? Thanks to your father, you have it. Had it. The world in which he operated, in which I still do, can be a very dangerous place. He was protecting you. As his daughter you were a liability. Something that could be used against him by the wrong kind of people. I don’t love you being here or getting involved, but these were his wishes, and I’m honor bound to respect them.”
“Stop defending him!” I said, my voice raised. “I was a mistake. An inconvenience. He wanted to be James Bond, but he knocked up my mom and had me. So he threw money at us and hoped it was enough.”
Nolan didn’t say anything for a moment.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” my voice shook now. “He didn’t care about me.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Nolan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “He worshipped you. Richard thought you hung every star in the sky. He hated being away from you.”
“How would you even know?” I asked. “For someone that seems to know him so well, he never mentioned you to me. I had never heard your name until this week when you told me he was dead. Why is that, Nolan?”
He sighed, “There was no point in him telling you who I was. The less you knew, the better. About him, about me, about all of this. He was very firm about that. He felt like you knowing too much would put you in danger.”
I rolled my eyes, “Its bullshit. He didn’t have to tell me anything. He could have just explained what he does in vague terms and still been part of my life. He left me and my mother and then once my mother was gone, he threw me in a boarding school which is just a rich kid orphanage. And before I could finally really know him, he died. It’s so fucked up…”
I was sobbing now, broken by my own grief and all the things left unsaid.
His arms again. They were wrapped around me now, tighter than before. The way he smelled, the way he felt; it was instantly calming to feel his heartbeat under my cheek. I sunk into him, shaking with anguish and heartache over the things that could never be.
“Nolan…” I said. “What do I do from here?”
I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. His mouth was inches from mine and his own eyes so sad. I knew that sadness was for me, that he hated that I was going through this. And right then is when I realized I could trust him. Despite what had been kept from me, my intuition told me that Nolan was on my side. That I’d never known him but he knew me. He looked at me as if he knew everything about me.
But I wanted him to know more.
I moved toward him, he to me, and after a heartbeat’s worth of hesitation, we were kissing. His mouth pressed against me, longing, and urgent, as if he’d been holding back for a long time. I kissed him back, eager for more, eager to feel anything but pain. I wanted pleasure, needed pleasure. The kind only he could give me.
But no. He pulled away and distanced himself from me. The kiss was over almost as soon as it began.
“I’m sorry, Camilla,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
I wanted to cry.
“I feel stupid,” I said, pushing past him.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him.
“Don’t,” he said. “It’s not you, Camilla.”
I pulled my arm away from him, “Prove it. If it’s not me, you should want to do it again. And more.”
His expression turned cold, “I can
’t do that.”
Of course.
“Fine,” I said. “I’m going to my room and I’m not coming back out until I can get the fuck out of here. Make it happen. Soon.”
And with that, I left him alone in the room of lies.
Twelve
Rejection. Humiliation. Grief. All of my least favorite emotions and I’d hit them all in the last 3 days. I didn’t have any tears left to cry at this point. And there was no more room for pride. I no longer cared what Nolan thought of me. I didn’t care about what anyone would think of me ever again.
Upstairs I threw off my clothes. I stood naked in the mirror, staring at my body. My bikini still hung in my shower, damp from the prior night in the hot tub. But I needed the jets again. And the heat. I needed to soak my anger away.
I wrapped a towel around my naked body and stormed downstairs. I didn’t know where Nolan was now, and I didn’t give a shit.
Outside the snow had melted slightly. It was afternoon now and the sun was out. But it was still freezing. I threw off my towel and quickly got into the hot tub.
Completely naked.
This wasn’t like me. I’d never been that girl that jumped into pools or hot tubs naked. I’d never flashed anyone for beads at Mardi Gras. I wasn’t an exhibitionist. But I was so tired of being contained and put away on a shelf. I longed to be free. It was why I was excited to graduate. Because finally I would have nothing holding me back.
Well, I was ready for that freedom now. So there I sat, soaking in jets and steam and my own pity.
And the jets felt so damn good. And that kiss with Nolan had set me off. I needed him so bad. I needed to feel something other than what I was feeling. If he could make anything up to me for the last couple days, he could at least give me that.
But he didn’t want me. He’d practically pushed me away.
I didn’t want to cry. Not over a man I barely knew. So I turned my frustration and anger in another direction and ran my hands down the slickness that was my body under the water. God, I wished he’d kept going.
I brought myself to the brink again, audibly calling out his name, wishing more than anything that he was watching me. And then something told me to look over at his window.
I opened my eyes and I saw him. Staring at me, like he’d been doing last night.
And he was naked too.
This time, he didn’t move. And he stared right into my eyes, a look of manly intensity I had never experienced.
I wanted him and from what I could see, Nolan definitely wanted me too.
I stood up to let the cold hit me. I shivered, not sure what do. My breasts ached from the cold, from the need.
He slowly slid open his door.
“Camilla,” he commanded. “Come to me. Now.”
********
He was beautiful.
A strange way to describe a man, but it was the best descriptor I could come up with. He was rugged, yes. Chiseled, strong, and sexy. His face was handsome and wise; lines had started forming on his face which just made him that much more desirable. But his eyes were a brilliant kind of hazel, and now that I was close to him, as close as I could ever be, I could see the sadness in them. He looked at me with such deep melancholy that it about broke my heart. What had made him this way?
He was beautiful and broken and all I wanted was to piece him back together.
I was hyper aware of my nakedness. I’d never been completely naked physically with a man. My trysts in college had been me with just my jeans pulled down in a hurry, or me under blankets where I couldn’t be fully seen, just felt.
But in front of Nolan I was stark and helpless. His eyes raked over me, hungry for something that I sensed only I could provide. I couldn’t look at him; I was too busy trying to prevent myself from shaking.
I was nervous, anxious, excited. I’d never wanted someone or something so bad in all my years of being alive.
He stepped toward me. His abs were so defined that he didn’t look real. And his cock. It was fully erect, and clearly hungry too. I could feel myself getting wet and it was hard not to reach down and touch myself.
“Camilla,” he said, his voice stern but also forbearing in its tone. “Why do you torture me?”
I shook my head, completely confused, “How could I torture you?”
“I’ve watched you,” he said. “And you knew I was watching. Didn’t you?”
“I didn’t the first time,” I admitted. “But yes, I knew after that.” My confession brought him closer to me. He was as near to me as he could be without touching me. The way his arousal jutted out in front of him, it would take only a lean, on either of our parts, to brush it up against me. I wanted so much for him to touch me. I was shivering now from desire. My heart beat rang in my ears. My nipples ached. I needed to belong to him. Even if it was just one time. I could live on that one time forever.
“What do you think that does to a man?” he asked. There was no smile but I could see in his eyes a hint of something that was less serious. His cock hovered centimeters from me. All I wanted was to open my legs and give myself to him, but I didn’t know what he wanted and the thought of him rejecting me or even teasing me made me terrified to take a chance.
Even if we were both naked and clearly in heat.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t know much about that kind of thing.”
Nolan laughed, a kind hearted chuckle, “Right. It looked like you knew exactly what you were doing.”
With the back of his hand, he reached out and grazed my left nipple, causing me to suck in a breath. I could have come right then.
“I didn’t,” I pleaded. “I just… I saw you naked coming out of the shower. Not on purpose. I swear. But ever since then, I can’t stop thinking about you.” I looked away, embarrassed. “I couldn’t stop wanting to touch you. Or imagine what it would be like…” My sentence trailed off.
“Finish.”
His reply confused me, which must have been evident in the quizzical look I gave him.
“Finish your sentence. Imagine what what would be like?
Shame burned my cheeks. “I… I can’t say it… please, Nolan.”
“For me to fuck you?” he asked. “Is that what you imagined, Camilla?”
He was so close that I could feel his chest rising and falling against mine. His cock was against my abdomen now, his shoulders and head above my own. I looked down, so scared, yet so ready to give him anything he wanted.
“Yes,” I whispered. “It’s all I can think about.”
He reached for me again, his thumbs circling around the peaks of my nipples now. I cried out, my hands traveling down to my vulva but he suddenly pulled them away, placing them against his chest.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
I stared up at him, into the face of Nolan Weston, the man of my darkest fantasies the last two nights.
“You know this isn’t right,” he said. “It can’t mean anything.”
It wasn’t what I expected him to say. It hurt me, to hear him say it, even if I knew it was true.
“I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t care what’s right. I don’t care about anything at all except what happens now. Nolan, please.”
He stepped back a moment, taking my heart along with him. I felt a rush of sadness and suddenly the worst thing happened.
I started to cry.
“I’m lonely, Nolan,” I confessed. “I just need to be touched. But only by you. It doesn’t have to be right or wrong. It doesn’t have to be anything more than this night. I don’t care about who you are or who my father was. I don’t care how old you are or how old I am. I don’t care about anything else but what I want right now. And what I want and what I need is a night with you. Just one.” I wiped tears from my eyes. “Unless I’ve disappointed you somehow.”
I looked up at him and his expression was kind now, his eyes sad again.
“How could you have ever disappointed me?”
I shook my hea
d, “I’m naked. Maybe you don’t like what you see.”
He put his hand underneath my chin, made me look up at him. His eyes were intense, his voice serious.
“I more than ‘like what I see’,” he said. “I like it too much, Camilla. I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you.”
His mouth softly kissed mine, a gentle kiss that made my nerve endings go haywire. I was so hot for him that I couldn’t bear it.
I ran my hands up his chest and neck, to his face. We stared at one another for a long moment, both of us knowing there was no way this wasn’t going to happen.
“Just once,” I begged softly. “Have me just one time, Nolan. Take me somewhere else in my mind. Where all I know is you and I can forget about the rest. If I’m going to move on from all of this, let me have that at least.”
I stood on my toes to kiss him but he picked me up instead, his massive arms enveloping me, pulling me in. His mouth was on mine now, much more assertive and aggressive. He kissed me like he’d been holding it back forever, kissed me like there was nothing waiting for him on the other side of his life, kissed me like I was the last woman he ever would.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me to the bed, his mouth never leaving mine. He moaned against me and I kissed him more urgently so he wouldn’t need any reassurance that this was all I wanted in the world.
He laid me gently down and was on top of me, supported by forearms like I’d never seen. He was all sinewy muscle and strength, and he made me feel like the safest woman in the world. And his gaze! I practically squirmed underneath the intensity of his eyes.
“Have you?” he asked. “Before?”
I nodded, “Yes. I wish right now I hadn’t. I wish I could be completely yours.”
“You are,” he said. “For today and tonight, you belong only to me.”
Thirteen
First, his mouth.
It went from my lips, down my neck, pausing at my clavicle where it took a long sabbatical at my nipples, licking and sucking them as I moaned and desperately clutched the sheets around me, writhing beneath his touch.