Summer Time Sweets by Alexa Riley

Chapter 4

Honor

Iwatch Washington pace back and forth. Every now and then he stops and I know he’s listening to his earpiece. Than he mumbles something in response, but I can’t hear what he says. My head is still spinning after all that’s happened today, but one thing is for sure: he wants me. Really wants me.

I glance over at the clock. How am I going to make it until midnight? I know my mind should be somewhere else. I should be worried about the threat around us, but all my thoughts are focused on him. Although it’s pretty normal behavior because I’m usually daydreaming about him. But now my fantasies might become a reality. It changes everything.

I jump when my phone rings.

“It’s the president,” Washington says as he stops his pacing.

I feel my face heat as I glance down at it. Oh god. My dad. Does he know about me and Washington? What’s he going to say? My heart starts to pound in my chest.

“Answer the phone, sweet pea. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.” It’s as if he’s reading my mind.

Right. Of course that’s why he’s calling. I pick up the phone and I immediately hear my dad’s voice. “Honor,” he says, and I can hear the relief in his tone.

“Hey Dad.” I glance over at Washington, who’s staring right at me.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s rushing around.

“I’m fine, Dad. Calm down. It’s nothing really,” I try to reassure him.

“I’m heading back to you. I’ll be there in—”

“No!” I snap out louder than I mean to. I really don’t want my dad to come back for totally selfish reasons. Whatever threat he’s worried about is under control, but my biggest concern is that he will come back before the clock strikes midnight. “I have Washington. I’m fine. I promise.”

“Honor…” he tries to go on, but I talk over him.

“I told you I shouldn't go to college. Look at the problems it’s causing already,” I joke. He laughs quietly then sighs. So I try another angle. “Stay with July. She needs you right now.”

When there’s a moment of silence I know I’ve won. “Fine, but if anything else happens, I don’t care how small, I’m coming back.”

“I love you,” I tell him, because I know he’s not looking for me to agree with him.

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Let me talk to Washington.”

“Bye, Dad.” I hold the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”

Washington clears the distance between us. His scent invades me and suddenly I’m soothed. Being near him always puts me at ease. He takes the phone from me and I glance to the clock.

“Mr. President,” Washington says. His voice is cool and controlled.

I sit down on the couch and Washington stands directly in front of me. My eyes go to his chest then trail down to his waist. The bulge of his cock is right in front of me, straining against the material of his slacks. I lick my lips, wanting to touch him so badly. I swear I can make out every inch, including the swell of the head. I remember feeling it pressed up against me and I rub my legs together at the reminder.

I reach out to touch him, but faster than I can process his movements, Washington has me by the wrist. His giant hand wraps all the way around it in a firm hold. I gasp at how fast he moved. He’s on the phone with my freaking dad! His dark green eyes are locked on mine and they’re stone cold. Shit. He looks pissed.

“I’ve got her, sir.” The muscles in his arm flex, and I can tell his body is wound tight with tension. “I won’t let her out of my sight.” He ends the call and places the phone in the table.

“You can’t touch me, Honor.” His voice is low and his face is serious. “I don’t think you understand how badly I want you and how fragile my control is when it comes to you.” He lets go of my wrist and steps back from me. He puts more distance between us than I care for.

I don’t like the cold way he’s speaking to me and it makes a knot form in my stomach. Before now I was sweet pea, but maybe he’s changed his mind. What if he’s trying to get the control back so he can push me away?

I stand up and walk towards my bedroom without saying a word to him. I open the door then close it softly behind me. It takes all my self-control not to slam it. I barely make it ten steps inside before the door is flying open and hitting the wall with a loud bang. I turn around and see Washington filling the space and looking even bigger than moments ago.

“I told your dad I’d keep my eyes on you at all times. That means the door stays open.”

“I was about to change,” I challenge, taking off my cardigan and letting it drop to the floor. Then I reach for the hem of my shirt and begin to pull it over my head. I hear a string of curses, and when I pull the shirt off I see he's gone. “Whatever,” I mumble. I go into my closet and dig around for something to wear. I settle on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. I find some knee socks and slip them on and up my legs. Then I pull my hair up into a messy knot on the top of my head and walk out of my room.

I’m not going to hide from him. Besides, even if I am irritated by his behavior at the moment I still want to be around Washington. Even if it’s only to watch him pace back and forth. Plus, I'm hungry, and the idea of making us both something to eat sounds good. No, it feels right. It’s so domestic and almost like we’re a couple playing house.

He stops his pacing when I walk in the room and he looks me up and down. His eyes roam over my body and he mumbles something to himself. I keep walking past him and go straight to the kitchen. I don't have to look at him to know he’s following me, but I can’t help myself. I peek over my shoulder to see his eyes trained on my ass, and I might just put a little more wiggle in each step.

“I’m hungry,” I say I enter the kitchen and open the refrigerator. “Do you want something?”

I make a show of bending over to dig around in the fully stocked refrigerator. It’s always loaded up. When he doesn't answer I look over my shoulder again at him. He’s standing there with his eyes still on my ass.

“Yeah. I have an itch for something juicy right about now.” His eyes move slowly up my body until they finally come up to meet mine. I turn back around to look into the refrigerator. The cool air cuts the heat rising in my body. What would be like for him to have his mouth on me? Would he spread me out on the kitchen counter for his own delight? How many times have I touched myself thinking about him kissing his way to my sex?

I suck in a deep breath and my nipples tighten. My panties are becoming sticky as the desire grows. I see steaks on the bottom shelf and take them out.

“Steaks it is,” I chirp a little too loudly. I watch Washington fight a smirk and I’m thankful his icy mood is melting.

His eyes move to my chest and he groans. “Fucking hell. This is worse than being waterboarded,” he says as he rubs his eyes.

I look down and see my hard nipples are pushing against the thin material of the shirt. I shrug because I don’t know what else to do. So instead I go to the pantry and take out some potatoes.

“Have you been waterboarded?” I ask, trying to get him to talk.

“Yeah.” He says it as casually as when he’d told me he was shot. I’m not sure what to say, but I want to cry.

“I don’t like the idea of you being hurt,” I admit.

Blinking fast, I try and fight the tears. He could have died. And if that happened then he would have never been mine. The thought tears me up inside and I try not to dwell on it.

“I’m fine, sweet pea. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere,” he reminds me. My body relaxes at his words. He’s right. He is here with me.

“Your life is so different than mine,” I tell him as I get to work on making our dinner.

“We both serve our country,” he says simply. “Just in different ways. I watched you today, working with that family. You knew exactly what to say and how to handle it. You’re as well trained as I am, but in a different way. You gave up your childhood and almost a decade of your life. That’s time you won’t get back. At least I chose what I wanted to do with my life. You didn't get to.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” His eyes soften. I never thought about it like that. It makes me feel that maybe I am doing my part to help.

I put the potatoes in the oven and start on the steaks. “Why don’t you want to go to college?” he asks.

“Maybe one day, just not now.” I shrug. Maybe not ever, if I’m being completely honest. But I don’t want to get into it with Washington like I do with my dad. I don’t want a lecture from him.

“Do you have a reason for not wanting to right now?” he pushes.

My reason is mainly him, but I’m too shy to tell him that. “It’s not what I want. That life.”

“What life do you want?”

“This.” I flip the steak over and then lean my hip on the counter. “A husband, kids, white picket fence, the American dream.” I try to read his face, but I can’t. I hate that he can wear that emotionless mask. “What do you want now that you’re getting out?”

“You.” He says it simply.

I remain silent, but he doesn’t say anything else. I grab some dishes and serve our dinner without saying another word. When I turn to reach for something, I run right into Washington. His finger goes under my chin, making me look up at him.

“You should be careful what you wish for.” I stare at him for a moment, then he moves away.

He takes our plates over to a small table in the kitchen my dad and I use a lot. We don’t like to sit at the large dining room table. It seems silly when it’s just the two of us. Before I can sit down, Washington pulls the chair out for me. It’s a simple act, but it’s really sweet. He sits with me, and his enormous body barely fits into the chair.

“Why should I be careful what I wish for?” I ask. I’m unable to stop myself.

“Eat your food, sweet pea. You’re going to need your energy later.”

I pause with the fork halfway to my mouth. The tingling between my legs is back. “How long have you wanted me?” I ask, bringing the bite of food the rest of the way to my mouth.

“You don’t want to know,” He answers, and he attacks the steak like he’s starving. I don’t know why, but I love that he’s enjoying what I made for him.

“I do.”

“The start.”

Butterflies dance in my stomach at his admission. “Me too.”

“I shouldn't have even been on your radar, Honor. You should be thinking about boys. Not a man who wants to devour you.”

“Maybe I want that, too.”

Washington stares at me for a moment before he goes back to his food.

“Do you want me to start thinking about boys?” His head snaps up, and I smile. “You said it, not me.”

“Don’t, Honor. Not right now.” I swear there is almost a plea to his words, and he’s not the type of man to beg for anything.

I look down at my plate and smile, then eat until I can’t hold any more.

“I ate too much.” I put my hand on my stomach and lean back in my chair. Washington’s plate is clean, and I nod to it. “Do you want me to make you more?”

“No. I’m saving room for my midnight snack.” My mouth falls open as he stands up from the table and takes both our plates over to the kitchen sink. I turn in my chair to watch him, my eyes following his every move.

“I can get that later. Or I can call someone to come take care of it,” I offer. There are staff that come by and take care of this, but I do it myself for the most part.

“You cook. I clean.” He shoots me a smile.

“I take it you liked it?”

“You have no idea.” He shakes his head.

“You’re hard to read, Washington. I thought you didn't even notice me before today.” I let out a humorless laugh. He stops what he’s doing, and in the blink of an eye he’s in front of me, his hands resting on the arms of my chair.

“Everyone notices you, Honor. You light up a room whenever you walk into it.”

“I wasn't talking about everyone. Trust me, I know the world notices me. They talk about me enough.” I look down and think about the press and how they’re always talking about my looks. My attention fixes on his hands. They’re squeezing the arms of my chair. I put my hands on top of his and his grip loosens.

“If you were mine I’d take you out of the spotlight. I hate that the world gets to see you every day.”

My head jerks up and my breath freezes in my lungs. “I’d let you,” I whisper, and Washington pushes away from the chair. He stands there for a moment before he goes back to cleaning the kitchen.

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed.”

“I should shower,” I say, standing. “I thought you weren't taking your eyes off me.” I smirk at him, and my body tingles thinking about him watching me in the bathroom. Would he be turned on? Would he have to fight himself from joining me?

“Go get your shower, sweet pea. Enjoy your last few moments alone.” I want to say something back, but the glint in his eyes stops me. I walk to my room filled with nervous energy.

“Leave the doors open,” I hear him yell.

The warning makes goosebumps break across my body. I grab a shirt and pair of panties from my closet before I go into my bathroom and strip my clothes off. I stand in front of the mirror for a moment looking at my body.

It’s changed so much over the last year. My hips are wider, my breasts bigger. I turn to look at my ass. Washington’s eyes have been on it most of the day. I know it’s his job, but it feels different now. It was hard to get through some of my meetings today knowing he was watching my every step. I kept wondering what he was thinking. I want him to think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.

I turn on the shower and get in. I take my time washing every part of my body and spend a little extra time on certain places. When I get out I comb out my hair before blow-drying it. Finally, I get dressed for bed, wishing I had something sexy to wear. That would be a hard purchase to explain away to my dad.

When I step out of the bathroom, I look around my room, but it’s empty. I peek out into the living room but don’t see Washington.

My excitement about the countdown is starting to dissipate. It’s still only ten o'clock. I lie down on the bed and look up at the ceiling. What if tonight is the beginning of the end? He might not like what he sees when he gets me undressed. Maybe after he’s had me he’ll be satisfied and won’t want me anymore. What if I’m not all he thought I was? What if he, too, built something up in his head that isn’t real?

I roll over, tuck my hands under my cheek and close my eyes, wondering if I’ll ever find sleep.