Which isn’t such a bad problem to have.
Although I feel like a stalker, watching CNN all the time, watching for any glimpse of the President. I don’t know what we are to each other, since we’re not technically dating or anything like that.
Still, he’s my Daddy. I get excited to see him, like we have this little secret between us.
Well, huge secret. And not just between us, but now between a bunch of people.
That worries me. I haven’t told a soul, but Adam’s told a few people now. And our meetings have leaked a few times to the press. I know he’s actively trying to fix that, but still.
Linda Torres calls me three times while Adam is overseas. I’m guessing she thinks I’m not protected when he’s not in the States. The first time she calls, she actually sounds pleasant.
“Hi, sweetie, is this Maggie?”
“Hello, yes, this is her.” I’m sitting at my desk, frowning at my computer screen, only half listening. “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes, this is Linda Torres, calling to ask some questions.”
I hung up on her right away. The next two calls, she dropped the whole nice-girl act and tried to bully me into speaking.
“I know everything, Maggie, and I can help you,” she said the last time she called.
“There’s nothing to know,” I said, and hung up again.
I can’t act like I’m not worried. On my way home, I keep looking around like I’m being followed. I know I’m not, Linda Torres is just a reporter, but still. I feel like a secret agent with a blown cover.
If I feel like this, I can only imagine what Adam must feel like. On the night of the second day, I get home and put on the TV, tuning in to CNN. They play some stock footage of the President, some stuff from earlier in the day, but nothing new.
“Probably flying home,” I say to myself. I make dinner, eat at the table, do some work on my laptop, and get ready for bed around nine. Since Adam hasn’t been in the office, I’ve been going to bed early, trying to catch up on sleep.
Just before I can turn in, there’s a knock at my door. I hesitate, surprised. I’m not expecting anyone, but maybe it’s my neighbor. She’s always losing her key, and she left one with me just in case.
I head to my door. “Janine, seriously, you gotta—”
I stop short as I pull my door open. Adam’s standing there, grinning at me.
“Surprise.”
“Shit.” I blink and stare.
His grin gets bigger. “Shit? That’s all you have to say to me?”
I throw myself at him. I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. He laughs, hugging me back.
“Okay, okay, it’s only been two days,” he says to me.
I hug him close. I can see figures lingering in the hall behind him, I guess his security. Once I pull away, he tugs me into my apartment and quietly shuts the door behind me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
He shrugs, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of a chair. “I just got back from France and didn’t feel like waiting.”
“Linda Torres has been calling me. Three times, actually.”
He sighs. “I figured that would happen.”
“I told her to fuck off.”
He goes still. “You didn’t actually…?”
I grin at him. “No, I just hung up. I didn’t actually say that.”
He sighs. “Okay, great.”
“I’m not an idiot, you know.”
“I know, I know. We’re just all under pressure.”
“But my point is, are you sure you should be here? I mean, she could have someone watching my apartment, just in case.”
He shakes his head. “I definitely should not be here,” he says, coming toward me. He’s loosening his tie, sliding it off. “I should stay far away from here.”
“But here you are.”
“Here I am.” He stops in front of me, staring down into my eyes. “Show me your bedroom.”
“Adam, really—”
“Maggie,” he says over me, looking stern. “Show me your bedroom.”
I hesitate, sigh, and turn around. I lead him down a short hall and we step into my room together.
It’s on the small side, with a single queen bed, a dresser, two night stands, and a closet. It’s nothing special, just your standard apartment bedroom.
He pulls me against him as soon as we’re in my room, and I realize he’s not there to see my space.
Excitement runs through me.
He grabs my wrists behind my back. I can feel him wrap his tie around them, pulling it into a loose knot. He kisses me and tightens the knot, binding my hands together.
I gasp and groan. “Shit, Daddy,” I say. “What are you doing?”
“Getting what I need.”
He pushes me down not the bed, ass in the air. He tugs down my pajama pants and slides my panties off. My pussy’s in the air for him as he admires me, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.