For the Record (Record #3)(26)
Author: K.A. Linde

He pinched her nipple hard enough for her to gasp. Expertly, he pulled her shirt over her head and brought the hardened nipple into his mouth. Her body came to life under his touch even after the marathon they’d had last night. Her lower half was sore from the exertion, but she didn’t seem to care as he turned her on all over again. She didn’t think she could ever get tired of this man.

He released her only to remove a pair of pink boy shorts she had slipped on last night. His boxers landed in the pile with her clothes on the floor and then he was hovering over her body, positioning himself between her legs. She lifted her hips to meet him and brought her legs to either side of his hips.

She urged him forward and then he filled her, sliding all the way into her with ease. “God, you’re perfect,” she groaned.

“Far from it, baby,” he whispered, pushing her hair back from her face.

“Perfect for me.”

And then they were moving together. In and out. Pushing forward. Taking their time and indulging in the feel of being perfectly in tune with another person. Nothing was rushed; every touch, every movement had meaning and purpose. They were pushing each other to new highs, gasping for breath and arching to get closer and closer to that complete oneness. It was like their two bodies had been made for each other, molded out of the same substance, born to lock together and go through this dance called life.

Liz’s fingers dug into Brady’s back leaving raw red marks as her nails scratched the surface. His hand wrapped around her middle and pulled her to a sitting position. Their lips locked all over again as he started bouncing her up and down on top of him. She felt him hit new depths, and she had to hold back her screams as he filled her over and over again.

The heat built between them. Sweat beaded their bodies. Brady grasped her hips and forced her down harder and harder. She felt the orgasm tear through her body all at once as he hit her in the exact right spot. She couldn’t hold back and released the cries, yelling out his name to the city beyond the glass windows. Brady followed soon after and they both were left gasping for air, riding out the endorphin high.

They lay together in bed for a long time after that, snuggling in the tangled sheets, and listening to the sound of each other’s heartbeat and the gentle hum of their breaths mingling.

Once they finally got out of bed, they took a long, hot shower and changed into fresh clothes. Liz was considering dragging him back to bed when he scooted her out of his place.

Frankly, she loved that they could go out together—even if there were reporters who wanted to photograph them together. She would put up with any of this to be with Brady.

He grasped her hand firmly in his as he backed his Range Rover out of the parking garage and started driving through the city.

“So, where are we headed?” Liz asked.

“Our new home,” he answered immediately.

Liz choked and then started coughing and then laughing, trying to cover it up. She didn’t think she did a good job, but what had he expected with that kind of statement. Their new home? Um . . . what the fuck was she supposed to say to that?

She still had to graduate. They had only been together a couple weeks. He was kind of getting ahead of himself.

Brady started laughing. “You should see your face.”

Liz reached out and smacked him on the arm. “You’re such a jerk!”

“I’ve been called worse,” he said with a shrug. “By you, actually. What did you call me when we first met? Power hungry with my only interests in money?”

“And didn’t you prove me wrong?” she murmured, squeezing his hand.

“Only with the best intentions. I believe I told you that you just needed to get to know me.”

“I think I got to know every inch of you that night,” Liz said, remembering the hotel after the Jefferson-Jackson gala they had attended.

“You abandoned your cheesecake for me. It’s how I knew you were really into me.”

“Maybe,” she teased.

“Am I not convincing?” He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her hand, her palm, and then the inside of her wrist. She shivered.

“Yes, you’re pretty damn convincing.”

And it was completely true. As a politician, if he wasn’t convincing, then Liz wasn’t sure how he had gotten his job. And he had convinced her in more than just having sex with him—in falling for him, in loving him, in believing in him, in trusting him, in giving him her heart again.

Brady smirked and laced their fingers back together. He took a couple more turns and then pulled into a parking spot. “Here we are.”

“Where is here?” she asked as she stepped out of the Range Rover and glanced around. Then her mouth dropped. “The White House?”

“I did say our new home.”

Liz couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. “The White House is our new home? Still getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Congressman Maxwell?”

“I like to plan ahead,” he said as they started walking toward the White House. “It’s all worked out so far.”

“So it has,” she said with a bright smile.

The only way to get access to a tour of the White House was through a member of Congress . . . and she sure had access to her Congressman’s member.

She giggled to herself at the thought.

After showing identification at the gate, they were ushered through and Brady immediately started talking, giving her a full rundown of everything he knew about the building. It was like having her own personal tour guide. Apparently he had been in the White House dozens of times before he had ever been elected to Congress, since his father was a Senator and had been serving for nearly thirty years.

They entered the East Wing as the last of the regular tourists were being escorted out. Tours ended at one thirty in the afternoon, but since she was with Brady they were able to continue walking around. They passed through room after room. Blue Room, Green Room, Red Room, East Room, State Dining Room. Brady seemed to have more than his fair share of knowledge regarding the various rooms, and he was kind enough to indulge her in taking a picture with the portrait of George Washington.

Just when she thought it was over, he grabbed her hand and walked her toward the West Wing. Her heart fluttered. She knew it was silly to get this worked up, but she knew what was behind those doors. The President of the United States, the central point of the government, and, most important to her—the White House press offices.

Brady laughed when her eyes bugged out and he directed her down the hall. He opened the door to the press office. “Have a field day,” he joked.