Mr. President (White House #1)

Be Matt.


Wilson stands on the other side. “He wants to see you.” He scans my room over my shoulder. “Alone.”

Oh. God.

Ten.

It’s been ten days since he said he wanted me.

I wondered when the day would come. I’d even started to believe it might not ever happen.

But now Wilson is at my door. Saying Matt wants to see me.

I don’t even know what to expect of this meeting. He could very well want nothing but to brainstorm—or to maybe tell me it’s a bad idea, now that he’s had time to reflect on it.

He’d be right. So right.

So I try to calm down my reckless desire for Matt Heavenly Kisser Hamilton and I prepare for a professional meeting—notebook in hand, ready to record any ideas or changes. Even though Wilson said he wanted to see me alone, I refuse to get my hopes up . . . or have them drowned.

I have trouble swallowing as I nod and say, “I’ll meet you at the elevator bank in two minutes.”

I shut the door and then lean on it, trying to catch a big breath.

Fuck.

Matt is going to be the end of me.

Maybe the end of my career, too.

And I should probably take that into serious consideration before I do something reckless.

I don’t.

I kick into action and rush to my small closet. I change into a skirt and blouse, gather my things, grab my room key, and shut my door, following Wilson to the elevators, then down the back exit to the hotel’s underground parking lot.

The door opens from within the car as I approach.

“Charlotte,” a deliciously wicked voice murmurs from the shadows of the backseat.

“Matt.”

I swallow the lump of excitement and desire that gathers in my throat. I’m wet already. Nipples pressing into the fabric of my bra and blouse. He scoots over and I slip inside, shutting the door behind me.

He’s dressed in black.

Smells expensive.

And he looks hotter than sin.

He also moves fast as sin as he reaches out to take my chin between his thumb and finger and forces me to look into his beautiful dark eyes. “I hope I didn’t disturb your sleep.”

His voice is husky, and so is mine.

“Actually, you did. But you didn’t have to send Wilson to knock on my door to do that.”

He smiles and gazes at me, sliding his other hand over the seat until it covers mine. I catch my breath at the touch. He squeezes my fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze.

Wilson drives down the darkened streets while Matt lifts my hand with both of his, turns it over, and drops a kiss on the inside of my palm.

I catch my breath, the warm and silky tip of his tongue flicking out. Circling the sensitive skin at the center of my palm.

I groan, inching closer to his body. Emanating heat.

Matt grips me by the hips and pulls me the rest of the way to him. He brushes my hair behind my forehead. “I asked Wilson to help me secure some privacy for us.” He studies my features.

“I’m glad,” I admit, thickly.

I reach up to his shadowed face.

God, is this happening?

Really?

I’m stroking my fingers lightly over his taut flesh. Loving the feel of the shadow of beard across his jaw beneath my fingertips. The way his jaw clenches as he lets me touch him, his eyes absolutely feasting on my face.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, we won’t make it to the elevators,” he warns.

“How am I looking at you?”

“The same way you looked at me when I kissed your knuckles at the hospital.”

“Oh no! I looked at you a certain way? That can’t be too good! People could see.”

His lips tug at the corners. “They’re used to girls flirting with me. It’s my own reactions I need to watch.” He smiles, then leans over and pecks my lips.

I lick my lips, tasting him on them. “You’re very good at controlling your reactions.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. My grandfather’s on to me.”

“He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“He hates the idea of anything standing between me and what he wants for me.”

I exhale.

“You looked great with the kids out there today. At the hospital,” he says. Voice low and appreciative.

“Me? It’s you they love.”

He chuckles, slowly shaking his head. “If that’s true, then you’ve won them over just as much; otherwise why would they ask me to kiss a girl if it’s not someone they’d want to see me with?” He smiles and leans back, eyeing me. “See, kids aren’t affected by norms and rules. They just see what is and know exactly how they’d like it to be.”

“It made me laugh that you indulged the kids but not the nosy reporters.”

“They threw it as bait, I’m not giving them that. At least, not willingly.” He looks at me then, and the understanding of the risks weighs down the silence between us.

Wilson pulls into a smaller hotel just a few blocks away from ours.

It’s more low-key, not exactly one-star but not five, either. A place where Matt wouldn’t be expected to stay.

“I’m right behind you. Power off your phone,” Matt instructs.