Politics’ Dirty Games: The President

ADRIANNA WALES’ FLASHBACK

When I said that I will talk to Matt Zamora about accepting his deal, I do not really know what I will expect out of him. Yes, he was the one who came to me and offered to help in a way that I am still not sure of; but he is still the son of the man we despise. If it was not for Leondelle saying that this is our opportunity, I would be even considering this.

The election and this whole politics we are all involved in is the war of the most cunning and the evilest humans in the country. It so happened that the same humans are just too smart for their own good and it will be a war of money, fame, and power over the country. We all know that what we have is just enough, but it does not ensure our victory with this war.

If this conversation with Matt will end well, it could finally be one of our assurances that we will win this damn election.

I tried so hard to focus my mind into thinking about the possibilities of what this conversation will result in, but I could not do it at all. My mind easily drifted off into remembering the time—all the other times—I had with Matt.

Matt is perhaps the embodiment of an ideal man I did not know I had. Not only because he is good-looking nor he is well damn rich, but he is a man that fully understood me and my needs in a short period of time. He was neither demanding nor controlling, he was all about give and take which perfectly fitted my vocabulary. A give and take relationship that is not necessarily always fifty-fifty, but a give and take situation that will naturally balance itself to the way it perfectly complemented what we have.

I did not know how long I was preoccupied with my thoughts that if Matt did not clear his throat, I would not even realize that he is literally sitting right in front of me right now.

“Were you waiting long? I even came ten minutes early, but you still got here before me.”

I straightened the way I sit and smile. “I honestly don’t know why I came earlier than we both should.”

Matt fucking Zamora does not have it in his vocabulary to disappoint—physically. I always see him in suits and ties, but tonight seems that something is different in him. He looks more dangerously handsome than everyone else is taking glances at him. Is it because of the new confidence radiating in him? I cursed to myself. This man is already sure that I will not reject whatever offer he has in his sleeve.

I cursed again when I noticed the tie he was wearing. This man… This man is toying with me in all the best ways possible.

Before my father died and before even discovering he is the son of the man I loathe, we had ourselves tangled with each other in a hotel room in Italy. That tie he is wearing today is the tie we used all night. May it be for a blindfold or for tying my wrists together. That very same time served a good lot of memories for both of us.

An evil grin curves on his lips, fully knowing what I am thinking. “You look stunning as ever, Adrianna.”

That made me grin, too. “You’re not bad yourself, Matt, but flattery will not get us anywhere now, will it?”

He nods, but still not wiping his wicked look. “Of course. Business it is.”

He calls the waiter to inform the man in another table—I know him. I know who this man is. He is the one of the most renowned lawyers in the country.

He smiles, takes a seat with us, wasting no time. “Mr. Zamora, Ms. Wales, shall we start?”

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Perhaps I need to commend Matt Zamora because is a damn smart motherfucker.

If there is one thing left to say, it is that this man is very goal oriented and he knows how to make sure that all his goals will happen according to his plans and all of his plans are damn well foolproof. His goal is to take down his own father and he just ensured his downfall—with ensuring our victory with the election.

And the catch of it all?

I belong to him until the end of all of these… and it is an easy done deal.

I am all his and his ownership over my body starts tonight, in this very wonderful presidential suite of this hotel.

Removing his coat and tie, and slowly unbuttoning his white shirt, he orders me to remove my underwear. Not my dress, not anything else, just my undies. The primal need and want in his eyes pleased me so much that I had to do what he said.

I sat on the edge of the bed before pulling my lace undies down, watching him too.

He is completely done removing his top and now I am in full view of his glorious body. This man knows how to take care of his body and it shows. From his chiseled chest to his perfect V-line. He looks one of those Greek gods and more. So much more.

And, oh, the satisfaction I have for watching him grow harder for me.

“Open your legs for me, Adrianna.”

I chuckled at his demand, and I did what he asked. Purely teasing him more because my flowy dress still covered the view he wanted to have.

He cursed and went his way in front of me. Literally in front of me where I am face-to-face with his proud hardness. I was about to touch his growing bulge when he stopped my hand and shook his head. “This is my night, Adrianna. You will get your satisfaction with what I will give you.”

He got on his knees and parted my legs further. When he positioned himself in my middle, he started planting small kisses on both of my legs. Cursing more and shivering, saying that his lips are enough to have me weak in the knees is an understatement.

When he finally lifts up my dress and comes face-to-face with my wanting wetness, he grins and makes sure that I know that I belong to him.

I belong only to him.