For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend (9 page)

She
was sitting up by now, holding onto Crader, as he held her by the hips and
fucked her long and hard.
 
His eyes were
closed, and he was enjoying the excitement of not only doing his wife, but
doing her in their kitchen.
 
He was going
to make her cum twice.
 
He hadn’t done
his job, he felt, if she didn’t cum twice.
 
She was still cumming the first time, but that was just the beginning
for Crader and his appetite.

He
continued to plow into her.
 
His dick
stung by the way he thrashed into her.
 
But that was the only way, LaLa knew, that he was going to be able to
cum.
 
It had to be rough.
 

And
Crader did her with tender love, but roughness too.
 
He was the master of the mixture.
 
He would go easy, turning her on, then harder
than hard, turning himself on.
 
Then he’d
ease up again.
 
By the time he had
thrashed into her until she was cumming again, he was cumming himself.
 
Unlike Dutch, whom in their bachelor days
they used to have threesomes with some gorgeous babe, he couldn’t keep fucking
after his release.
 
Crader’s release was
too intense, forcing him to pour out with one hard thrust and pour, until he
had no strength left.
 
He was almost
popping veins in his neck as he strained out the last of his cum.
 
He strained and he strained until there was
nothing left.
 
And then he looked at his
wife.

“Good?”
he asked her.

LaLa
eyes were so hooded with lust that they were nearly closed.
 
“Perfect,” she replied.

And
that was what Crader needed to hear.
 
He
kissed her, pleased that he could please her.
 
And then pulled out.

After
carrying her to the bathroom, and cleaning them both up, they eventually
returned to the kitchen.
 
But they
returned just as Maurice, their Estate Manager, was entering the kitchen.
 
“Excuse me, sir and ma’am,” he said as he entered,
and LaLa and Crader both looked at him.

“Yes,
Maurice?” Crader responded.

“The
President and Mrs. Harber are arriving, sir,” he said.
 

Crader
thanked him, and then he and LaLa, smiling at their close call, hurried for the
front door to welcome their special guests.

The
cavalcade of SUVs had already come through the gates of the McKenzie estate and
was making their way toward the front entrance.
 
Crader and LaLa were standing there, ready to greet them, with Little
Nicole running out of the house at the last second, and her father swooping her
up into his arms.
 
The Nanny came out
behind her, but it was too late.
 
She had
been waiting all week for Walt.
 
She
could hardly contain her joy.

“There’s
Nikki!” Little Walt said inside the SUV when he saw his playmate run out of the
house. “That’s Nikki, Mommy!”

Gina
smiled too.
 
“Yes, it is,” she said,
looking at the waiting family.
 
“She’s as
happy to see you as you are to see her.”

And
as soon as Mitchell stepped out of the passenger side of the SUV and opened the
back door, Walt took off for his playmate.
 
By the time Dutch and Gina made it out of the vehicle, the children were
embracing.

“Inseparable,”
Crader said of the two children as he hugged and kissed Dutch, and then he
hugged and kissed Gina.
 
“How’s my
favorite couple?” he asked them.

“Glad
to be on Ruth Island,” Gina said.
 
“How
are you?”

“Exhausted,”
Crader said and Dutch laughed.
 

“You
don’t have to tell us,” Gina said.

“If I
would have known being president sucked this much I would have never agreed to
take over.”

“It
can’t be that bad, Cray,” Gina said.
 
“I
heard you may run for reelection.”

“It’s
the power,” Crader said and Gina laughed.
 
“Don’t get it twisted.
 
It’s the
power I’m after.”

“Don’t
listen to him,” LaLa said as she and Gina hugged and kissed.
 
“He love the job too.
 
It suits him.”

“Don’t
it, though?” Gina agreed.
 
Then she
added: “Mrs. First Lady.”

“Oh,
go on,” LaLa said cheerfully.
 
“I’m with
Crader on that part.
 
Being First Lady
sucks too.”
 

“But
you have been impressive, La,” Gina said.
 
“They can’t take that away from you.”

“They
couldn’t take it away from you, but they tried.”

Gina
laughed.
 
“You know you’re right.”

Then
LaLa moved over to Dutch, and he hugged her and kissed her on the lips.
 
When they parted, she smiled.
 
“How you doing?” she asked like Wendy
Williams.

“I’m
doing well,” Dutch said.
 
“You look
beautiful, Loretta.
 
Being First Lady
agrees with you beautifully.”

LaLa
felt her heart soar.
 
Dutch was always
her gold standard.
 
She loved any
compliment he gave to her.

Crader
knew it too, and a twinge of jealousy rose up within him.
 
For some reason he always managed to forget
to compliment his wife, and Dutch never did.
 
“Come on inside you guys,” Crader said, and they all headed in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

After
a big dinner of short ribs and collard greens and mac and cheese, the children
ran to the playroom, with the nannies responsible for each one right on their
heels.
 
The adults, stuffed and
satisfied, settled into the Florida Room.
 
Everybody was drinking wine, except LaLa, who preferred simply tea.
 
She was just so overjoyed to see her old
friends again.

“It
seems like it’s been forever,” she said, “when it hasn’t been that long at
all.”
 
She was seated in the wingback
chair that flanked the sofa, with Crader seated on its arm.
 
Dutch and Gina sat side by side on the sofa,
both leaned back and slouched against each other.
 

“So,
good people, how have the DC press been treating you?” Gina asked with a smile
on her face.
 
“From your perspective I
mean.”

“Just
wonderful, darling,” LaLa said facetiously, and Dutch and Gina laughed.
 
“Just awful,” LaLa said more truthfully.
 
“They say I’m not as polished a First Lady as
you were,” she added.

Gina
waved a dismissive hand.
 
“Don’t you
believe it,” she said.
 
“Those same
reporters used to call me, not First Lady, but Ghetto Lady.
 
Remember that?
 
Now I’m the polished one?
 
Please.”

“What
Gina is trying to say,” Dutch said, “is that the press will turn on you at the
drop of a hat.
 
Today they hate you,
tomorrow they love you.
 
The day after
that they hate you again.
 
Ignore it all,
every bit of it, is our advice.”

“Good
advice,” Crader said.
 
“I try to tell La
to not let it bother her.
 
But it does
anyway.”

“It’s
not that it bothers me,” LaLa said.
 
“It’s just that it . . . bothers me.”
 
They all laughed.
 
Then Maurice
appeared again.

“Excuse
me, Mr. President,” he said, and both Dutch and Crader turned his way.
 
“President McKenzie, that is,” he corrected
himself.

They
all laughed.

“Yes,
Mo?” Crader asked.
 
“What is it?”

“Your
Defense Secretary is on the telephone, sir.”

“Did
you tell him I had company?
 
Specifically, President Harber?”

“He
was told, sir, yes, sir.”

“And
he still needs to speak to me?”

“That
he does, sir.”

Crader
exhaled.
 
“I’d better take it then,” he said
to his guests.
 
“Hold the fun until I get
back,” Crader added and then left the room.

“In
the meantime,” Gina said to LaLa, rising to her feet, “we’d better get those
kids of ours to bed.”

“It
is late, isn’t it?”

“Well
pass their bedtimes, that’s for sure,” Gina replied.

“What
about you, Dutch?” LaLa asked him.
 
“Will
you be okay?”

“You’d
better not baby that man,” Gina said, grabbing her arm.
 
“Of course he’ll be okay!”
 

Dutch
laughed as he stood up.
 
“Thank-you for
your concern, Loretta.
 
At least somebody’s
thinking about me.”
 
He and Gina
exchanged an affectionate smile.
 
“But
yes, I’ll be fine,” he said, placing his drink on the coffee table.
 
“I’ll go for a walk around the grounds.”

“Sounds
good.”

Gina
smiled.
 
“Don’t get lost,” she said to
her husband as she and LaLa headed for the stairs.
 
Dutch headed for the exit.

Once
the children were asleep in bed, Gina and LaLa began heading back
downstairs.
 
But Gina pulled her aside.

“What’s
wrong, La?” she asked her.

LaLa
attempted to smile.
 
“Nothing’s wrong.”

“What’s
wrong, La?” Gina asked again, refusing to take nothing for an answer.
 
“Please don’t tell me Crader’s acting a fool
again.”

“He’s
not.
 
That’s not it at all.
 
He’s been faithful.”

“But?”

LaLa
exhaled.
 
“But nothing.
 
It’s just been hectic.”

“Don’t
I know it.”

“And
Crader’s thinking about running for a full term.”

Gina
studied her.
 
“You don’t want that?”

“For
him?
 
Yes.
 
I think he’s a fine president.
 
But for me?”

“No?”

“I
honestly don’t know.
 
It’s so much
scrutiny!”

“I
know,” Gina said, taking her friend by the arm and continuing to walk with her
downstairs.
 
“But you didn’t marry an
ordinary man.
 
Don’t expect him to be
content with ordinary.”
 
Then she looked
at her friend.
 
“That includes in the
bedroom, La.”

LaLa
laughed.
 
“You don’t have to tell me
that!
 
But I’ll bet Dutch doesn’t work
you the way Crader works me.”

Gina
looked sidelong at her friend.
 
“Are you
on dope?” she asked, and LaLa laughed.
 
“Dutch have that thing up my ass so much I can’t walk half the time!
 
He doesn’t work me?
 
You must be joking!”

LaLa
couldn’t stop laughing.
 
It was
Gina.
 
Her best friend.
 
She always knew how to put a smile on LaLa’s
face.
 

Dutch,
on the other hand, appreciated the quiet.
 
He walked slowly around the estate, speaking to the contingent of Secret
Service agents, many of whom used to work for him, and his mind kept floating
back to Brandy Clarke.
 
She had some
nerve coming to his office like that.
 
Some nerve indeed.
 
She knew what
the agreement was.
 
But she showed up
anyway.
 
And to declare that boy was in
trouble, that he’d been accused of murdering somebody, didn’t surprise Dutch a
bit.
 
It only confirmed that he had done
the right thing.
 
But it certainly
complicated matters.

He
was on his second walk around when Crader caught up to him.
 
They were near the back of the estate.
 

“So
this is where you got off to,” Crader said as he made it by Dutch’s side, and
they began walking together.

“Any
pressing national security problems?” Dutch asked him.

“Plenty.”

“Syria.”

“Egypt
this time.
 
Another round of
violence.
 
More calls for the US to do
more.”

“Like
hell,” Dutch said.

“Don’t
worry.
 
I have hawks at the Pentagon
breathing down my neck, those hawks in Congress ramming it down my throat, but
I’m not about to commit any more to that powder keg than what’s already been
committed.
 
It’s a mess and there’s no
way around it.
 
It will not end
well.
 
Makes you wonder if they should
have ever gotten rid of Mubarak.”

“I
don’t wonder that,” Dutch said.
 
“Democracy isn’t pretty, especially in its infancy.
 
They’ll come around.”

“So,”
Crader said as they walked, a sure indication that he was dying to change the
subject.
 
“How’s you and Gina been really
getting along?”

Dutch
looked at him, curious why he would phrase it that way.
 
“We’re getting along fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Crader
nodded.
 
“That’s good.”

Dutch
hesitated, still studying his old friend. “What about you and Loretta?
 
How are you two getting on?”

Crader
nodded his head.
 
“It’s been good.”

“Staying
out of trouble?”

“Who me?”
Crader said with a charming smile.
 
“Yes,
Daddy, I’m staying out of trouble.”

“Good.
 
Because Loretta deserves nothing less.”

Crader
didn’t respond to that.
 
He knew it was
true.
 
And they continued walking.

Then
Crader smiled.
 
“You remember all those
crazy things we used to do?” he asked Dutch.
 
“With the ladies, I mean.”

Dutch
hesitated.
 
He knew exactly what he
meant.
 
“I remember.”

Crader
laughed.
 
“Those were some crazy days,
man.
 
And to imagine you and then I would
eventually become president of this great country makes it all the more
remarkable.”

“And
scary,” Dutch said, and they laughed.

“Yeah,”
Crader said, “but those were the days, my friend.”

Dutch
continued walking, looking down at the top of his expensive shoes as he
did.
 
He was waiting for more.

And
Crader gave him more.
 
“But when you’re
president,” he said, “you’re so limited.”

Dutch
looked at him.
 
“What are you getting at,
Crader?”

Crader
exhaled.
 
“I’m not used to this.
 
To being in the fishbowl like this.
 
When I was VP, it wasn’t like this.”

“The
scrutiny, you mean?”

“Yes!
 
I can’t fart without the press knowing about
it.”

Dutch
laughed.

“How
did you do it?
 
And if I so much as look
at another woman, they want to accuse me of cheating on La.”

Dutch
almost stopped walking.
 
“You haven’t,
right?”
 
He looked at his closest friend.

“Of
course I haven’t.
 
I’m no idiot.
 
But I’m concerned.”

“About
what?”

“After
the presidency.
 
When the cameras are
off.
 
I’m wondering if it’s going to be
enough.”

“Crader,
what are you talking about?
 
If what’s
going to be enough?”

“One
woman,” Crader admitted.
 
“I’m not used
to this.”

For
some reason, his admission inwardly angered Dutch.
 
“It’s not as if you just got married
yesterday, Crader,” he said.
 
“Why aren’t
you used to it?”

“Because
I’m not!
 
Sometimes I want. . .
more.
 
I miss it.
 
The variety I mean.”

“What
kind of variety?
 
You mean different
races of women?”

“No,
hell no.
 
Of course not.
 
I used to bed just as many black women as I
did white women.
 
I’m talking about women
period.
 
Different women.”

Dutch
wanted to pounce, but he needed to hear him out.

Crader
continued.
 
“LaLa’s wonderful, you know
that.
 
She’s sweet, she’s smart, she’s
beautiful, she’s even good in bed.
 
She’s
wonderful.”

“But?”

“But
after a while . . .”
 
Crader looked at
him.
 
“I love LaLa, don’t misunderstand
me.
 
I want to spend the rest of my life
with that woman and that woman alone.
 
She’s my wife and I don’t want any other woman on the face of this earth
with that title.
 
LaLa is my woman, and
she’ll always be.
 
But . . .”

Dutch
wanted to drop kick this joker.
 
“But
what?”

“But
. . . Wouldn’t it be great if we could . . . have some no-strings-attached kind
of fun?
 
Just you and me and Gina and
LaLa.”

“No
strings attached fun?”

“Yes.
 
We couldn’t have that with anybody else.
 
We couldn’t trust it.
 
But if it’s just the four of us, it could
work.
 
When I saw Gina today, and how . .
. wow, how gorgeous she looks, it made me . . . It made me start thinking.”