The Gentlewoman (16 page)

“By the time the polls closed and numbers started adding up,
I needed to be alone. We were at the Mason Hall and I was hiding in the back
office, away from the crowd. I was wondering how I was going to face my father
if I didn’t win, how I would face all those people. After a while, Dad came and
found me. He sat down across from me. He knew what I was thinking, I guess. He
knew the pressure. I looked into his eyes and I knew I had lost.

“He started asking me questions. ‘Rory Elizabeth, did you
run a good race?’ I told him I felt I had. ‘Rory Elizabeth, are you proud of
your hard work?’ I was proud that I had tried hard to serve the people. ‘That’s
all that matters to me, lassie,’ he said. And then he stood and asked me for a
dance. We could hear music through the door, but no cheering, so I knew I had
lost. But Dad held his hand out and I went into his arms and he spun me around
and we danced.

“After a couple minutes, he said, ‘Rory Elizabeth, you best
come make a speech’. I started for the door and he stopped me and said, ‘and
you best put on your lipstick, lassie, the TV cameras are here and want a shot
of their new clerk of courts, Rory Morgan!’ I screamed and ran into his arms,
and he hugged me tight. I couldn’t believe it. He was so proud of me, but he
wanted me to know that it didn’t matter that I beat that old bastard, that he
would have been just as proud of me anyway.” She stopped and looked away, tears
in her eyes. “That was a really good day.”

Jackson beamed at her. “That sounds like a great day.” He
leaned forward and kissed her full on the mouth. The kiss deepened and Jackson
rose over her, pressing her back onto the bed, his large body covering hers. He
pulled back and gazed into her eyes, wiping away her escaped tears.

“Thank you for sharing that. You did a great job. You put
your fear in its place.”

Rory looked up at Jackson and thought about the exercise
they had just gone through. She had to admit, the fear and anxiety had
dissipated and she felt better, almost peaceful, with the good memory of her
father remaining forefront in her mind. She smiled as she reached up and cupped
his cheek. “Thank you for that.”

Jackson kissed her again and found it difficult to hold
back. He didn’t know if she was into it; the morning had been so emotional and
he didn’t want to push if she wasn’t comfortable. But his cock was so hard for
her he thought it would explode. She was an addiction, a drug he couldn’t get
enough of.

He parted her legs with his knee and groaned when she
wrapped her legs around his waist. Their tongues and hands stroked as he bore
down on her with his hips.

Rory was the one to pull back. “Take the boxers off,” she
breathed urgently, pushing on his chest.

Jackson reared back and removed his boxers in one fluid
motion. He tossed them on the floor and, bracing himself over her, tore the
sheet away from her naked body. His lips came down hard, his cock resting at
the entrance to her sex. He was surprised when she shifted her hips up quickly.

“Oh God, Rory, you make me so hot for you.”

“Then take me. What are you waiting for?”

She cried out as his long, thick cock slammed into her,
bearing down inside her. “You’re so tight, Rory, did I hurt you?”

“Oh God, no… please, fuck me.”

Her words fired through him and he reared back, plunging
into her. He knelt back, grasping her rear, her knees tucked into his armpits,
and lifted her as he slammed into her. He felt her muscles squeeze his cock and
she screamed and clenched the sheet as she came. A moment later, Jackson
shouted as his release tightened every muscle in his body. He collapsed onto
her after the tension eased, breathing heavily.

“God, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard. Was I too
rough?”

She smiled into his face. “No, you weren’t too rough, not by
a long shot. Why are you worried about hurting me?”

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”
He rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m quite enjoying myself. But you
may want to watch it, I’m starting to worry about your ticker. You’re not as
young as you used to be, you know.” She smiled wickedly.

“Oh you little shit.” He grabbed her middle and tickled her
hard. She giggled and squirmed, pushing against his hard chest, but he held her
trapped. “I’m not an old man yet, Rory Morgan, and my ticker is just fine. Keep
it up and I’m going to spank your ass red.”

“Ohhhh, I’d like to see you try!” She fought his tickling
hands. “I think I can run faster than you. I don’t think you’d be able to catch
me.”

“Let’s see.” He reared back and flipped her over. She
screamed in surprise as he gave her three firm slaps on her rear.

“Ouch, that stings!” she said, playfully affronted.

“Keep it up and I’ll whack your ass all morning. Look, I’m
already hard again.”

“Ah, I may like this then,” she said sensually raising her
ass off the bed to tease him.

He smoothed his hand over her round bottom and squeezed. “Be
careful, I’m an ass man, remember?”

She rubbed against him. “I do remember. I was thinking you
might show me what you like about that.” She was curious and naughty and he
loved it.

“Oh baby.” He couldn’t remember ever being this turned on.
The suggestion that Rory might let him take her ass was blowing his mind and
fueling his intense arousal again.

She turned in his arms. “You’ll have to show me,” she
murmured as his lips came down on hers. She reached down and grasped his
erection, pumping it gently as he moved between her legs again.

Friday afternoon Rory sat with Nicole in her office and ran
down the details of the coming week. It would be a busy one, a couple of
luncheons, several committee meetings and evening events to attend. She checked
to make sure her calendar was accurate. She felt more confident now that she
had everything lined up for the shipyard vote and she wouldn’t have to spend
the next week chasing that down.

Nicole broke into a huge grin for the hundredth time.
“Honestly, Nicole, come on.” Rory rolled her eyes, smiling back at her.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so excited for you!” Nicole had been
having a very hard time containing her joy over Rory’s date for the state
dinner. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited.” Rory beamed back at her. “I just
have a better poker face than you do.”

“It’s so romantic, Ror. He bought you the dress, he’s taking
you to the White House, it’s like being Cinderella!”

“Now there’s somebody I really compare to.”

“I want to hear every last detail on Sunday. As a matter of
fact, bring Jackson. Landon’s going out of town, so he won’t be there.”

“How do you know that?” She still hadn’t touched base with
Landon since their lunch the week before. She hadn’t returned his call from
Monday, and he hadn’t tried her again. She wondered which one of them was
acting more childish.

“He told me on Monday when he called here. You didn’t know?
He’s going home for a couple days with Rita, said they had some stuff to take
care of.”

“No, I haven’t talked to him.” She still felt as if
something was off. That awkwardness with Roy Charles in Congressman Duncan’s office
still wasn’t sitting well with her either, and she knew Landon and Roy were
tight.

“So you’ll bring Jackson to Sunday dinner? It’ll be nice.
And I promise we’ll be good hosts.”

Rory eyed her apprehensively. “You won’t ask his dick size?”

“Cross my heart.” She crossed her heart with two fingers
smiling broadly. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“I’ll ask him if he’d like to come then.”

“Does he ask you if you’d like to come?”

“Nicole Dailey!” she admonished.

Rory peered apprehensively at the spa door from the
passenger seat of Jackson’s BMW. They had enjoyed a wonderful morning. They had
woken early and gone for a run, followed by Jackson’s famous French toast,
another self-declared dish. Afterward he had surprised her with the news that
they would be spending the rest of the weekend at the InterContinental Hotel, a
stone’s throw from the White House and very swanky.

They settled into the huge honeymoon suite. Rory couldn’t
believe Jackson had gone to so much trouble and expense, and told him so. He
laughed and told her he’d check with his accountants to make certain he could
take the hit.

The promised itinerary had been produced and her jaw hit the
floor. First they enjoyed lunch served in the suite, a feast of lobster tail
and petite filet mignon. It was delicious and Rory indulged in the chilled
champagne. She ate lightly, not wanting to be too full, remembering her
formfitting dress. She didn’t want to disappoint the somewhat scary Gretta, who
was scheduled to be there with the couture twins to dress her.

But before she was to dress, Jackson had booked her into the
spa she was now staring at for a mani-pedi and an hour Swedish massage. Rory
had enjoyed manicures and pedicures before, but she had never had anything more
than a quick chair massage, forced upon her by her secretary at City Hall
during an employee wellness fair. Honestly, she just wasn’t that big a fan of
being touched, unless there was a happy ending involved.

“Go on, they’re expecting you,” Jackson urged as Rory looked
back at him uncertainly. He sighed and shook his head, putting the car in park
and racing to open her door. “In you go,” he said, taking her by the upper arm.

There was a pretty blonde at the front desk. “Rory Morgan,”
Jackson announced, and as Rory turned back to mutter second thoughts, he raced
back through the door, leaving her stranded. Sneaky bastard.

There was a natural motif with stone, rough wood décor and a
waterfall running into a pond in the middle of the cavernous spa. The walls and
floor were granite gray. She could see people on one side sitting with
technicians while others were in the large waiting area. Everybody was wearing
white robes and paper flip-flops.

“Good afternoon, Miss Morgan, please follow me to the
changing room.” The blonde led the way behind the massive counter. Rory
dutifully followed and was shown to a room where she stripped, secured her
things in a locker and donned the mandated robe and paper flip-flops. Scenes
from the movie
Silkwood
raced through her head and she wondered if she
would next be led to the high-powered shower and scrubbed down. She snickered
at her acerbic nature and pledged that for Jackson’s sake she would try to
enjoy herself.

Another blonde led her through a private door and down a
long quiet corridor to an interior waiting room. It was very dark and the walls
were painted a very heavy navy blue. The black furniture was soft and low to
the ground with a lot of fuzzy throw pillows. The requisite water feature was
situated in one corner and there was low lighting and faint, slow classical
music. She noticed magazines on the low coffee table and grabbed a
Smithsonian
.
She huddled under the lamp on the end table to no avail. The Buddha-type lamps
didn’t throw off enough illumination to read by and Rory questioned the
decision to offer reading material in this dark room.

A third blonde appeared in the doorway. “Rory?” she asked in
a quiet manner.

“Yes.”

“Hello, I’m Dalleen,” she said slowly and quietly. “Please
follow me,” she offered with a calm smile and serene manner of movement. If
Rory didn’t know better, she’d think somebody had been burning something other
than incense. But as Dalleen turned and smiled sweetly, Rory reminded herself
to go with this and try to enjoy Jackson’s generosity.

Dalleen gave Rory a few moments to disrobe and arrange
herself under the sheet on the massage table. Once she was flat and face down,
the masseuse entered. She oiled her hands and as she started to massage Rory’s
body, relaxation set in. After a few moments, Rory knew why millions of people
weren’t wrong about full-body Swedish massage. What a gift. She really should
be more grateful to Jackson. She began to think of ways that she could repay
him for his kindness.

Two hours later, Jackson stepped into the spa. She rose from
her chair in the waiting room, feeling relaxed and boneless, and put her arms
around his waist. She smiled up at him as he looked into her eyes.

“Did you enjoy yourself, baby?”

“I did.” She beamed as Jackson signed the bill. “Look.” She
held her hands out to show him her French manicure.

“Pretty.” He smiled widely, taking both her hands and
kissing them before walking her out to the car.

Rory turned to him. “Wait,” she said as he started the
engine. She leaned over and placed her hand on his cheek. “Thank you for that.
Thank you for all of this. It’s very sweet that you’re doing this for me.”

Jackson smiled and leaned forward to capture her lips. “It’s
my pleasure, believe me. Now let’s get you back. You’re not done yet.”

Ah yes. Hair and makeup were also on the itinerary and would
be done before the Olsen twins came to dress her.

As she gazed into the full-length mirror, the door behind
her opened and Jackson walked in. Her breath caught at the sight of him in his
tuxedo. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He’d had his hair trimmed while she was at
the spa, and it was dark and shiny under the lights in the bedroom. His blue
eyes gazed at her. Although he had shaved, he still had the requisite dark
stubble on his face. He looked so sexy, so tall and the tuxedo accentuated his
nice build. Rory felt lucky to have the attention of this beautiful man.
Ironically, she remembered long ago dreaming of having a man such as this as a
husband. He was a physical ideal, and his kind and generous spirit was equally
as attractive. It made him hard to resist.

Jackson couldn’t take his eyes off Rory. As she turned to
face him, he gasped at the way the dress hugged her full breasts and showed off
the sexy peaks and valleys. She felt slightly exposed.

“Rory, you look absolutely beautiful. I’m speechless.” His
eyes roved her body. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep my hands in
appropriate places.”

Rory beamed up at him, eyes sparkling. “Right back at you.”

“I have something for you. I think it will accentuate this
sexy dress. Not that you need it; you already look perfect.” He opened a box to
reveal a stunning necklace of emeralds, each round stone surrounded by
diamonds, and matching earrings. Jackson took the necklace out and Rory turned
so he could fasten it around her neck.

“You didn’t buy these, did you?” Rory asked, shocked at the
opulence of the jewels. She had never seen anything so exquisite.

Jackson chuckled. “No, I didn’t think you’d appreciate me
spending three hundred thousand for these.” Rory gasped and touched the jewels
tentatively. “They’re on loan from a jewelry store. We’ll return them Monday. I
wanted you to have something special to wear tonight,” he whispered as he
kissed her ear.

Rory turned and studied his face. This all seemed outside
the order of his usual “friends with benefits”. It gave her pause. She had been
ignoring the realization of how much time they were spending together, how
invested they were becoming in each other in such a short time. It scared her
to think that she might be developing feelings for him. Everything felt good
with him, comfortable, and he inspired the most exciting happiness she had ever
known. He was plugging that hole in her heart and it both frightened and
excited her.

“What?” Jackson asked as he stared into her eyes, holding
her tightly against him.

“Are you so romantic with all the ladies, Jackson?”

“No,” he stated emphatically. “Romance hasn’t been something
I’ve done for over ten years.”

She smiled, resigned, as she spread her palm on his lapel.
“Yes, friends and sexual partners, I remember.”

Jackson grabbed her hand in his, jerking her tighter against
his chest.

“Until now,” he stated, staring into her eyes.

“Now?”

“Yes now, with you. You are more than just a friend or
sexual partner, much more, Rory.” He searched her face.

Rory was frozen by his candid admission. She wanted to
embrace him and lavish him with heartfelt confessions of her own, but panic was
her overriding feeling. The familiar metallic taste of fear made her swallow
hard and she struggled to respond. She didn’t want to lose this moment because
of her inability to deal with it, but she was also terrified to let him so far
in.

She opened her mouth to try to offer him some of the
sweetness he was giving her. “I…oh God.” She pulled back and looked down in
shame.

“It’s okay,” he said, stepping closer to her again, not
letting her escape. “I didn’t mean to push you. I do understand your
apprehension. It’s been awhile since I’ve had these feelings.” He gently
reached for her and lightly kissed her on the lips, trying not to ruin her lipstick.

She cursed herself. She was tired of fear and living half a
life. Devon and Nicole were right; it was time to move on, away from shame and
betrayal and into whatever this was with Jackson. He made her feel whole again,
not sad anymore. He made her live life and live it less afraid. She swallowed
hard and steeled her spine. She needed to reciprocate. She needed to tell this
lovely man that he mattered to her.

She cupped his cheek and stared into his eyes. “Jackson, I
want…I want you to know, I do have feelings for you.”

A smile spread across his beautiful features. “You do?” he
whispered, hugging her body tightly to his. “Oh baby, that makes me very
happy.”

“You look beautiful, are you ready?” Jackson kissed her hand
as he exited the limo. Excitement rushed through her as she stepped into the
North Portico entrance of the White House. They were ushered through the door
and up the red carpeted steps. After checking their coats, they were led into
the Yellow Oval Room for the cocktail hour. The White House was as lovely as
Rory imagined it, and exactly as stately as it appeared on television. There
were ornate floral arrangements, and honor guards and color guards in full
dress uniform lined the rooms. It was all very official, right down to the
order of events.

The informal reception was first. The room was bursting at
the seams, so many tuxedos and ball gowns of every color. Rory could see a few
people she recognized from the news, mostly ambassadors and diplomats, members
of the president’s cabinet. She even saw a couple of well-known actors.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Jackson directed her with his hand at
the small of her back.

A waiter rushed forward with a large tray of
champagne-filled glasses. Jackson took two, offering one to Rory. Men in
tuxedos approached and greeted Jackson cheerfully, graciously making Rory’s
acquaintance. One or two gave her a long look or raised an eyebrow, either at
the tight dress or her party affiliation. It made no difference. Much small
talk was made about several bills working through Congress, and those future
items upcoming on agendas. She felt only slightly out of place as she noted the
absence of her own party compatriots.

After twenty minutes the announcement was made that the
president and first lady were descending the grand staircase and guests should
follow to the receiving line. There they would meet the Australian prime
minister and the heads of state for whom the evening was in honor.

As they left the Yellow Room, Jackson leaned over and
whispered to Rory, “Get ready to have your photo taken.” Rory smiled at him,
unconcerned with the cameras.