Chapter 45
" Y pasan los día', los mese', pensando en tu olor. Ha llegado el tiempo para usar la razón ante' que sea tarde y, sin querer, me parta en do' " Bad Bunny
With a subtle wink, Donald directed my gaze to where it needed to be.
I turned my head just in time to see Kelsey signal toward the hallway.
I could have jumped for joy, but instead, I leaned into the performance; I rose on tiptoe and pressed a long, lingering kiss to Don’s lips.
The room hushed for a fraction of a second as eyes swiveled toward us.
"It worked," he whispered against my mouth.
I broke away and moved toward the restroom, the click of my heels on the marble the only sound in my ears. The moment the door closed behind me, Kelsey was there.
"Kitty, you still haven't fulfilled your promise to me," she said, her voice a low, demanding rasp. I offered her a mischievous smile as I slid my panties down, stepping out of them with a fluid grace. I caught her by the lapels of her jacket, pulling her mouth inches from mine.
"Any more demands for today?" I challenged.
"You. Kneeling with your back to the door," she commanded, her fingers tracing the line of my cleavage until my skin hummed. "Arms behind your back." Her lips brushed the sensitive skin of my neck. "I’m going to make you come until you forget your own name."
I swallowed hard, the weight of her authority leaving me breathless. I reached back to lock the door, unable to even voice a protest. I was soft, aching, and dangerously close to the edge.
The rest of the night was a blur of forced smiles and tactical dancing. By the time I returned to Don's side, the evening felt like it was dragging through molasses.
Finally, I saw Peter heading for the exit, a look of profound reluctance etched into his features. He and Kelsey exchanged a few words and a formal handshake, the universal sign of a truce, however fragile.
Meanwhile, Donald had performed a miracle on the dance floor. By the time the third senator congratulated me on "reconnecting with my high school sweetheart," I realized he had successfully sold the room a fairy tale.
Desperate for a moment of silence, I excused myself to the terrace for some fresh air.
I was seriously contemplating a cigarette, a ghost of a habit I’d buried years ago, when a shadow stretched across the stone floor.
I expected Donald or Vanessa, but the voice that cut through the night was cold and familiar.
"I see you really are sleeping with Donald," Peter said, leaning against the railing as he lit a cigarette.
I didn't give him the satisfaction of a flinch. I simply rolled my eyes and extended my hand. He didn't say a word as he handed me a cigarette and clicked his lighter, the small flame illuminating the mask of indifference I’d spent all night perfecting.
"You talked so much about his cheating that I finally decided to see what the fuss was about," I countered, my voice dripping with a calculated, bored curiosity. "What are you even doing out here, Peter?"
"I need support for the campaign. The terms of our... arrangement... got a little foggy tonight, but I’ll straighten them out," he said, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
"I didn’t think even you were jerk enough to want me by your side just to scavenge for votes."
"Oh, Megan. Don't insult us both by pretending to be naive," he scoffed, turning to face me. "Of course I want the embodiment of Jackie Kennedy by my side. But as it happens, I was offered a small fortune to accept you as a 'friend' instead."
"Friend..." I repeated the word, the incredulity sharp in my tone.
"We’ll see each other at an event in Jacksonville next week. I’ll need you there, smiling and waving."
"Do you honestly think I’m going to stand there like some polished souvenir, staring at your lover’s face while I tell the world you’re a viable candidate?"
"That is exactly what I expect," he said, stubbing his cigarette out on the sole of his shoe with a slow, deliberate finality. He began to walk toward the exit without looking back. "And that is exactly what you are going to do."
A lump formed in my throat, that familiar, bile-tinged urge to heave rising in my chest. I took a few ragged breaths, pinching the bridge of my nose as I forced myself to finish the cigarette.
I couldn't help but wonder if Peter was capable of having good taste in anything, even his tobacco was subpar.
I smoothed my dress and stepped back into the hall, where Lisa immediately intercepted me, her nose wrinkling in distaste.
"What is that smell? It’s like cheap cigarettes and desperation."
"I was sharing a smoke with Peter on the balcony," I said, my voice cold and steady once more.
Lisa stared at me in disbelief, slowly shaking her head. "It is an absolute nightmare to get the smell of tobacco out of this specific fabric. My sympathies to the laundry service," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "What did that man want now?"
"Just the usual," I replied, catching a fresh glass of sparkling wine from a passing waiter’s tray. "A bit of light emotional blackmail seasoned with some thinly veiled threats."
Before Lisa could dissect that, Donald was at my side, whisking me back onto the dance floor. We spun through the room, maintaining the charade until the clock ticked past ten and the first wave of guests began their exodus.
Kelsey intercepted us near the grand staircase. She didn't stop, but as she passed, she leaned in, her voice a low, private vibration against my ear: "Wait for me. Dressed."
I offered a sharp, nearly imperceptible nod. Donald caught me by the waist, playing the part of the devoted partner to the very end as we climbed the stairs toward the guest wing.
"I’m fairly certain I overheard two senators discussing how beautiful our children would be," I noted as we reached the landing.
"Oh, absolutely," Don shot back without missing a beat. "I’m sure your mother would be thrilled to play nanny while we run the capital."
"And what about your mother in this hypothetical nightmare?"
"I don’t mention her because she’d move into the guest house permanently to hover over her grandchildren. Why on earth are we talking about children, Megs?"
"I think it’s the sparkling wine," I laughed, leaning against the wall. "Do you actually have company tonight?"
"I do. He should be waiting in my room as we speak."
"Can I meet him?" I teased.
"Not a chance. He’s not the type I introduce to the family. I’ll likely never see him again after tonight."
"Donald... you really are a bitch," I whispered, grinning as we reached our respective doors.
Donald’s laughter echoed down the hallway as we reached my door, his "goodnight" a cheerful end to our public farce.
The moment I stepped inside, I didn't hesitate; I moved straight for the connecting door. Inside Kelsey’s suite, a bottle of sparkling wine sat nestled in an ice bucket, waiting.
I poured myself a glass, leaning my hips against the dresser with my legs crossed, silent, poised statue of anticipation.
The main door swung open, and Kelsey entered, followed by the striking woman who had been her shadow all evening.
"Kitty, this is Alica," Kelsey introduced, her voice smooth and commanding. "She’s a doctor... and our companion for the night."
Alica was breathtaking, likely no more than twenty-five. Her dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that lit up with a tentative, respectful smile.
Kelsey didn't wait. She moved into my space, one hand anchoring on the back of my neck while the other claimed my waist, pulling me into a kiss so passionate it threatened to undo all the restraint I’d practiced downstairs.
When we finally broke apart, we both turned our focus to Alica. She was watching us, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her hands clasped politely in front of her, a portrait of controlled desire. Kelsey extended a hand, and Alica took it with a slight tremor of excitement.
I followed suit, wrapping an arm around Alica’s waist and drawing her into a kiss. Almost immediately, I felt Kelsey move behind her, biting into the soft skin of Alica’s neck while her other hand remained firmly planted on my butt.
Kelsey leaned in to steal Alica’s mouth from mine, leaving the woman's neck exposed and inviting. I didn't hesitate to trail my lips over her pulse point, nipping at the skin until a low, fractured moan escaped her. Kelsey broke the kiss just enough to offer me a triumphant, wicked smile.
"I wanted to know if we had chemistry together," I whispered against her skin. "And I think the answer is a resounding yes."
"Absolutely, yes. And please... call me Ali," she replied softly. I didn't waste a second before kissing her again, my hands tracing the elegant curves of her body, discovering the map of her skin.
I felt a jolt of electricity when Ali’s tongue brushed against my neck. I watched, breathless, as she offered Kelsey a silent, nodding permission, her hand sliding down to explore the firm lines of Kels’s abdomen.
Soon, Kelsey’s neck became the focal point for both our mouths. My nails dug into the fabric of her shirt, anchoring me as the thrill of sharing her of seeing her through another’s desire, heightened my own.
When Ali and Kelsey leaned in to kiss inches from my lips, I found myself paralyzed by the sheer beauty of it, unable to interfere, content to simply admire the heat radiating between them.
Ali’s hand found the nape of my neck, pulling me into a kiss defined by a delicate, lascivious aggression.
My fingers sank into the softness of her ass, squeezing harder as a drawn-out moan escaped her.
Looking down, I realized the cause: Kelsey had claimed Ali’s breast, her tongue swirling around a tightening nipple.