Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Daphne
Iwas dressed in the clothes I’d come here in, pacing in front of Brooks’s bed.
The sheets were rumpled and smelled like a mixture of his cologne, my perfume, and our sex. The ache between my legs reminded me of him with every step.
Every sound outside the door sent my heart into another frenzy.
I halted when the door opened, and the back of my thighs hit the bed as I stumbled back.
Brooks stood in the doorway. He dragged a hand through his already-messy hair before shutting the door behind him.
Sweat coated his face, more than when he’d been inside me. I prepared for whatever bad news he was about to deliver.
“Come on.” His tone was emotionless. “I’m taking you back to campus.”
I peered at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s four in the morning.”
“I can see at night.” He massaged the space between his brows.
“With what car? We didn’t drive.”
“I have one here.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I’ve slept less before.”
Why I was arguing with him, I had no idea.
I’d been begging for him to get me out of this forsaken place since I rolled out of his suitcase. Getting caught on the way out was my newest fear.
“Now, come on.” He didn’t offer his hand or any help. Just stood at the door, waiting for me to follow him. “My father arranged for us to have discretion. No one will see us.”
I winced, sinking on the edge of the bed. “Your mom told him?”
He rubbed his nose with his index finger. “He knew before she did.”
“What? How?”
“The driver told him I brought a girl home.” He scratched his head, making his hair even messier. “He checked the cameras.”
“I was wearing a wig.”
“My father, the president, isn’t dumb.”
I rolled my eyes. “Being the president doesn’t exempt you from being dumb.”
He crossed the room with heavier steps than usual and disappeared into the bathroom, deciding my opinion of presidents wasn’t worth arguing with.
“Do I have to get back in the luggage?”
“No, as long as we’re out of here in the next five minutes.” He poked his head through the doorway. “We take longer, then expect a visit from my father.”
I jumped up, grabbed the few things I had, and stood ready at the door.
He hurriedly grabbed his belongings and tossed me a hoodie. “Put this on and keep your head down.”
I nodded and slipped out of the room with him, staying so close my arm kept bumping into his. The hallway felt twice as long as it had earlier.
I’d gone from having the best sex of my life to panicking that I’d get arrested.
A black Mercedes G-Wagon was waiting for us. Chills swept up my arms.
Is that the one that chased me through the woods?
Brooks circled the vehicle to the passenger side and opened the door for me. I climbed inside, the buttery-soft leather a ridiculous contrast to the memory of being hunted by one of these things.
He got into the G-Wagon. Things were suddenly awkward, as if the man hadn’t just told me how tight my pussy was less than an hour ago.
Everything was always so hot and cold with us.
We pulled away from the White House, another black SUV immediately falling in behind us.
I covered a yawn with my arm and knew we were in for a long night. The drive back to the university was a little over four hours. I wasn’t sure if Brooks could make it there without falling asleep behind the wheel.
The silence stayed until Brooks leaned forward to turn on the radio. Today’s top hits flowed through the speakers, and he tapped his thumb to the beat while staring straight ahead into the dark night.
We made it out of the city, and with each passing mile, my eyes grew heavier until I eventually dozed off.
I hadn’t expected to wake up to gunshots.