Lina
Six
I kissed him. I kissed Levi Hendricks on the balcony of the White House while a state dinner happened twenty feet away.
What the hell is wrong with me?!
I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling of the presidential residence, replaying every second of that kiss like a crazy person.
His hand in my hair. His mouth on mine. The way he groaned against my lips like he’d been waiting his whole life for that moment.
The way he backed me up against the railing and pressed his body into mine, and I could feel exactly how much he wanted me…
Oh God.
I press my hands to my face.
You are forty-four years old. You are the President of the United States. You do not make out on balconies during state dinners like some horny teenager!
But I did. I absolutely did. And it was… the best damn kiss of my life.
I was married for twelve years. I’ve dated. I’ve had men. I know what a good kiss feels like. This was not a good kiss. This was a fucking experience.
The way Levi’s tongue stroked against mine. How his hand tightened on my waist, pulling me closer like he couldn’t get enough. The way he growled, fucking growled…
I’m wet just thinking about it.
This is a problem.
I roll over, bury my face in the pillow, and groan.
Lina Renee Kane. You have a goddamn Nobel Peace Prize. You solved world crises, stared down egomaniacs. You cannot fall apart over a man.
But he’s not just any man… He’s Levi. And I’ve spent fucking years watching him from afar, building this ridiculous fantasy in my head, telling myself it was just a harmless crush.
Something to keep me warm on my long, cold, lonely nights.
A little guilty pleasure that didn’t mean anything. Could do no harm.
And then I met him. And that man is so much better than the fantasy. He’s funny, sharp, sexy, fucking intense. And the way he looks at me, like I’m the only person in any room, like he can see past all the armor I wear and wants what’s underneath…
Stop. You need to stop!
But I can’t. I can still taste him. Mint and something darker, headier, fucking addictive. I can still feel the scrape of his beard against my skin. The press of his body, big, tall, hard, and warm… And how amazing he smelled. Fuck me.
That man kissed me like I was his. And the terrifying part is that I want to be his…
* * *
I don’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back on that balcony. With Levi’s hands on me. His mouth on me. The sounds he made when I moaned against his lips.
By the time morning comes, I’m a fucking wreck. I drag myself through my routine: shower, makeup, tailored suit… trying to look like a functioning human being.
You’re fine. No one knows. It was dark; you were alone, Agent Torres didn’t see anything.
Except for the part where you came back to dinner with swollen lips and couldn’t form coherent sentences for the rest of the night.
I wince.
Yeah. Someone definitely noticed.
Simone is waiting for me in my office, tablet in hand, running through the day’s schedule. I nod along, barely hearing a word.
“…and at two, you have the call with…” She pauses. “Ma’am?”
I blink. “Sorry. What?”
She gives me a look. That look. The one that says I know something happened and I’m just waiting for you to tell me.
“Late night?” She asks, way too casually.
I nod briefly. “State dinners always run long.”
“Mm-hmm.” She taps her tablet. “You seemed distracted toward the end. Everything okay?”
I made out with the national team’s head coach on the balcony and ruined my underwear.
I nod again. I’m about to turn into a damn rag-doll. “Fine. Just tired.”
“Right.” She doesn’t believe me for a second. “Well, Coach Hendricks certainly cleaned up nicely last night.”
My heart stops, but I keep my expression neutral, years of practice. But Simone’s smirk tells me I’m not fooling anyone.
I look away. “Did he?”
“Mm-hmm. Very handsome. Distinguished. That silver fox thing he has going on really works for him.” She’s enjoying this way too much. “I noticed you two had a nice conversation.”
“We spoke briefly.”
Shea adds, “On the balcony.”
Oh shit.
“It was hot inside. I needed air.” I mumble.
“And he just happened to need air at the same time?”
Now she’s just torturing me.
“Coincidence.”
“Of course.” She nods, smiling huge, completely unconvinced. “The way you came back with your hair mussed and your lipstick gone, total coincidence.”
SHIT.
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.
Simone holds up a hand. “I’m not asking.
I don’t want to know. Plausible deniability.
” She’s grinning HUGE. “I will say, though, if you were going to have a scandalous affair in your final months in office? You should definitely pick a retired pro athlete turned international coach. And those shoulders?” She fans herself.
I stare with my mouth open.
Simone just turns back to her tablet, still smirking. “Your two o’clock, ma’am.”
* * *
The text comes at 9:47 PM.
I’m in the residence, pretending to read a briefing document, when my personal phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
‘I haven’t stopped thinking about last night.’
My heart slams against my ribs.
How the hell did he get my number?!
Another text comes through before I can spiral:
‘Simone is very helpful, by the way. I like her.’
I’m going to kill Simone.
But first, I’m going to respond to this man.
‘You shouldn’t have this number.’
His reply is immediate.
‘And yet here we are.’
‘This is a secure line.’
‘Then I guess our secrets are safe.’
I stare at the screen, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
Don’t respond. Don’t encourage this. You’re almost at the end of your last term. He’s a distraction you can’t afford.
I type back: ‘What secrets?’
‘The part where we kissed until we were both shaking’
Oh God.
Heat spreads through my entire body. I press my thighs together, which doesn’t help… at all.
‘I wasn’t shaking.’
‘Really? Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.’
‘Who says there’s going to be a next time?’
‘You. When you told me to win the quarterfinal.’
I giggle. Damn it. He’s got me.
‘That wasn’t a promise.’
‘Sure sounded like one.’
I bite my lip, trying to hold back my smile. This is ridiculous. I’m flirting via text message like I’m twelve.
‘You’re very confident, Coach Hendricks.’
‘I know what I want.’
‘And what’s that?’
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
‘You.’
Simple, efficient, fucking devastating….
‘Levi…’
‘I’m not playing games, Lina. I want you. I’ve wanted you for years. And after last night, I know we work.’
‘It’s more complicated than that…’
‘I know.’
‘My job…’
‘I’m aware.’
‘There are protocols. Security concerns. My entire life is public, Levi.’
‘I know all of that, Lina. And I don’t care.’
I stare at the message. He doesn’t care.
This man doesn’t care that I’m the most scrutinized person on the planet.
That I can’t go anywhere without Secret Service.
That every decision I make is analyzed and dissected by millions of people.
He just wants me. Fuck, when was the last time anyone just wanted me?
‘I’m not saying we need to figure it all out tonight. I’m just asking you to give this a chance. Give US a chance.’
I think for a beat.
‘And if it doesn’t work?’
‘Then at least we tried. At least we won’t spend the rest of our lives wondering what if.’
I close my eyes. He’s right. I’ve spent my whole life being careful.
Strategic. Making the smart choice, the safe one.
And it’s gotten me here, the most powerful office in the world, a legacy I’m proud of.
But I’m also alone. I’ve been alone for so damn long.
And now there’s this man, this beautiful, crazy, silver fox who looks at me like I hung the moon and kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m air.
What if, indeed…
I type back: ‘Win your game, Coach.’
‘That a yes?’
‘It’s a ‘we’ll see.’’
‘I’ll take it.’
I smile at my phone like a damn idiot.
‘Goodnight, Levi.’
‘Goodnight, sweetheart. Dream about me.’
‘Presumptuous.’
‘Nope, hopeful!’
I set my phone down, laughing softly.
Dream about me. Like I could do anything else.