Page 17 of The President's Passion
I let them go, pulling Jackie into the helicopter and tucking her in, making sure she’s comfortable before I get briefed on everything that’s happened. Jackie listens carefully too because she’s curious like that and we’re told that Kramer was shot by an agent when he tried to escape.
Jackie winces as if she can’t believe she ever looked up to that two-faced man before glancing out the window as we start lifting and soon we’re up in the sky. Leaning against my shoulder, she relaxes and listens to me murmuring back and forth with the agents.
I know my voice is so different when I talk to them rather than her, the tone quick and whipping and it makes Jackie squirm. Once done with the conversation, I turn my attention to her and she twirls my fingers with her own and I let out a pleased purr.
“Do you think...?” she whispers, sliding a hand down her belly.
“Yeah,” I answer promptly and she raises her brows.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m not sloppy and I don’t do anything half measured.”
Gawking at the audacity, she shakes her head. “Maybe we can try once more after you’re done with w...work just to be sure?” she asks and my body immediately tightens with need.
“Sweets, I’m not the kind of man to sit and do nothing when you say stuff like that,” I rasp and her eyes flare in wonder at what I’m about to do next. Without hesitating, I order the agents to grab their parachutes and jump off after which I bark at the pilot to not turn around under any circumstances. The pilot nods, his ears now covered by earbuds that block any sound.
Undoing her seatbelt, I pull her into my lap and she pants, knowing from now on to never express a need like that and expect me to not immediately satisfy it. My mind spins just like the propeller as I maneuver her to make this work.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” I grit between my teeth as she looks into my eyes with a mix of adoration and admiration. “I’m all you’ll ever have and you’re all I’ll ever love.”
Epilogue
Jacqueline-Nine months later
Letting out a frustrated groan, I struggle with my gown. It’s the one I wore the first time Went and I met and he insisted I wear it tonight. We’re heading to a gala to celebrate everything he’s done for the world but I know why he wants me to wear the gown.
To remind all the people who shunned me of their mistake and of course, to rub it in their faces.
He still hasn’t gotten over the ruckus the public caused when they found out that I of all people was going to be the First Lady and that they had no say, because Went had already gotten me pregnant. Our story will probably go down as the biggest scandal in history and while others were outraged, to us our scandal was sweet.
And Went has been so caring and involved with the pregnancy that even the congressmen expressed some concern, though Went told them all where they could shove it. The more my belly grew, the more he hovered over me, putting his hand on the bump whenever he could and it became such a huge deal in the tabloids that people began speculating whether the President had an inappropriate fixation with the First Lady.
Obviously he has one, though I wouldn’t call it inappropriate though it annoyed Went that people showed concern for me. In his eyes I’m not this country’s First Lady but his and everybody else are only allowed to get the scraps of my table.
If only I could put this damn thing on...
I twitch when I hear Went coming into the room. He can’t see me like this. My belly is showing and I pant when he transforms in the doorway. With one look at me, his whole appearance changes from Mr. President to Mr. Primal.
“Just hold that thought,” I plead. “We’re going to be late to your gala.”
“Fuck the gala,” he rasps, stalking into my room and he begins tearing at his shirt, “I don’t have the patience to wait after the gala. I need you now.”
“But Went, then I’ll have to do it all over again...,” I gripe but he couldn’t be anymore disinterested. He’s seen something he likes and he’s always been a pretty single minded man. When it came to his career, when it came to me...”And the buttons are so intricate.”
“Fuck the buttons,” he rasps, “you think I’ll let some buttons stop me from claiming you.”
Nodding, I murmur, “They should.”
“Well they won’t,” he smirks and shoves his hands into the chiffon and I scowl when I hear the unmistakable sound of a tear, because it just came from the seamstress. “Sorry.”
Judging by the look in his eyes he’s probably not sorry at all and I pant when he gently flips me on my back on the bed, my large belly poking in the air, so large that it obstructs my view if I don’t raise my head.
“Gorgeous,” Went rasps, fumbling with his belt. “You know how to yank at that thing in my chest like nobody else.”
I start getting breathless, forgetting everything about the gala and I begin wriggling on the sheets when I tense. I just felt something. “I’m wet...,” I say, looking at Went with glossy eyes.
“You’re supposed to be,” he murmurs with a grin, “if you weren’t I’d take it personally.”