For the Record (Record #3)(82)
Author: K.A. Linde

So he did. He slid his cock all the way into her, grasping her hips in his hands and pushing just a little bit farther.

“Fuck,” she cried.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.”

He leaned forward over her, brushed her hair out of her face, and brought his lips down to her. They kissed tenderly as he started up an easy sensual motion. He could do this all day. Who needed the election? He had his prize already.

She broke away with a gasp, her body arching back as she tried to get him deeper. “I take it back,” she whispered. “Fuck me.”

He nipped at her earlobe and thrust once fiercely into her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“Please. Please fuck me,” she pleaded. She already knew that was what he wanted from her. “God, I want you.”

“Like this?” he crooned, starting up a quick pace. Their bodies slammed together. All he could hear was her encouraging pants, and the smacks of skin on skin.

She bit out one word. “Harder.”

Well, he could fucking oblige her.

He grabbed her leg, threw it onto his shoulder, and then pushed into her deeper. The feel of her so tight around him nearly made him lose it, but he wasn’t going to finish without her. She was so damn close. He thought she might come at any moment, and he loved to get her at least twice.

“I love you,” she said, reaching out and digging her nails into his shoulders.

“I love you too, baby.”

He felt the tension burst out of her as she pulsed around him. He had no control in that moment. She sucked the life right out of him. He grunted, collapsing over on top of her as he emptied himself within her beautiful body.

They lay like that together until it was clear that their busy schedule was going to interfere with Brady’s request for round two. After a quick shower, Brady put on a fresh suit with his favorite blue tie. Liz appeared out of the bathroom like a vision. Her wavy hair had been straightened, her blue eyes were bright, and the white dress she had chosen was modest but fit her perfectly. He knew what was lying underneath it and he couldn’t wait to get his hands back on it.

He pulled her toward him. “Your mother was right. You look great in white.” She blushed at the compliment. “I can’t wait to see you walking down the aisle toward me on our wedding day.”

“You’re just excited about the lingerie afterward.”

“I’m excited for you to become my wife and take my name,” he said, running his finger around the diamond ring on her hand. “We have the rest of our lives for everything else.”

He kissed her tenderly before they exited the house together. He wouldn’t have minded taking the town car to the polling location, but following tradition, they got into his Lexus and drove into town.

A camera crew greeted them when they arrived. Brady had warned Liz that one would likely be there to ask a few questions after he cast his ballot. Standard protocol.

“So,” he whispered as they got into line behind a little old woman with a cane. “Who do you plan to vote for?”

Liz giggled and shook her head. “You’re silly.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You, of course,” she said, shaking her head.

“Oh good. I need every vote.”

Liz laughed and walked in front of him to cast her ballot. Brady took his own card from the poll worker and walked into the voting booth. He stared down at his name with a sigh. He hoped he never got used to the feeling of seeing his name there. It should never be commonplace to have the people vote for him. He wanted to win, but it was a privilege earned, not a right.

He filled out the card, punching his name last, and then exited the voting booth. A woman handed him an I’m a North Carolina voter sticker with a toothy grin. He slapped it proudly on his suit and then walked outside.

Liz was waiting for him. She looked giddy from the experience. “I just did my civic duty,” she told him triumphantly, pointing at her own sticker.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “And here I thought you did that this morning.”

She blushed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Brady Maxwell.”

“At your service.”

“Congressman Maxwell,” a reporter called, interrupting them. “Mind if we have a word with you?”

“Of course not,” he said amicably.

He walked over to where the reporters were standing and answered their questions. It felt good to be free. He had cast his ballot, and he had done everything that he could to ensure his victory. There were volunteers out right now trying to get people to the polls, and there would be people doing that until the polls closed.

He had a busy day ahead of him to get out the vote, but he did it cheerfully. If he couldn’t be out there with his supporters to get the word out, why would they bother?

The day passed in an exuberant blur. Everyone was in an incredible mood. The city was alight with the buzz of Election Day. Whether it was volunteers eager to help where they could or just the everyday citizen happy that the campaign signs would come down, their voice mails would stop being filled with chatter, and the television would be free of advertisements, there was something in the air that day.

It was nearly poll close when Brady and Liz retreated to headquarters to wait out the reports. Liz was exceptionally quiet and lost in thought as information came back to them from the field confirming his victory or loss of a particular precinct.

“So . . . where do we stand?” Liz finally asked. He realized that she looked nervous.

“We’re down,” he told her. He had seen the look in Alex’s eyes without even tallying what had come in.

“It’ll be a toss-up,” Alex corrected. “It’ll come down to the wire again. Hopefully we have the votes. You two should get ready for the party tonight.”

Brady nodded and Liz just chewed on her bottom lip. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

She turned her head from him and seemed lost in thought. “If you lose, it’s my fault,” she whispered.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” he asked with a laugh. He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “If I lose, it’s because the people of North Carolina in the Fourth District didn’t want me to represent them. That’s the only reason. Nothing you or I could do would change that. All right?”

“But . . .”

“No. I’m not going to let you take the blame. If I lose, it’s on me,” he told her earnestly. “But I haven’t lost yet.”