Page 44 of Under His Command
I roll my eyes, puffing a breath as I remember Odette Chevrier and the stupid warning she issued that day when I met her. Don’t give him everything he wants all at once. It’s not that I intentionally wanted to follow her advice. But I guess deep down, I kind of thought she was right.
“This woman… Odette…”
Cam laughs, her head dipping backward as her chest accommodates the generous sound. “Please, tell me you aren’t doing this because of something Odette Chevrier said to you.”
“I mean…”
“Oh my God! Okay, you’re in desperate need of some good ol’ fashioned Cam advice. That woman is a snake. We don’t like her. She does people favors and has everyone wrapped around her finger for when she needs them. But the things she asks for are…” She shakes her head. “Outrageous. One time, she coerced the former Chief of Staff into making her Secretary of State. I don’t know the kind of dirt she had on him, but he was forced to beg Maddox to appoint her for the role, when she didn’t even meet the requirements in the first place.”
“I think I read about this online. Speculation only. I didn’t know if it was real or not.”
She smacks her lips. “It was. This is why the Chief of Staff had to resign. But then we got Reid Cranford hired for the role instead. So in a way, Odette did us all a favor. Anyway… the point is, go take your man, tell him you’ll move in with him, and suck him off real good tonight. He’ll appreciate it.”
“Cam!” I laugh, looking around for any staff that might hear us. “Not so proper for a wildly respected First Lady, are we?”
“Took you long enough to realize that.”
I purse my lips, lost in thought as the manicurists come back into the room.
“Anything else we can do for you today, ladies?” one of them asks.
Cam and I look at each other, a secret—and a deeper understanding of one another—binding us closer than we were three hours ago. And I know, just from the way her smile reaches her eyes, that the friendship we developed today will probably last for the rest of our lives.
“Everything all right?” I ask Rowan when he enters the Vermeil room. Cam had to leave to prepare for an interview, so I waited here for him with a tray of chocolate and a glass of wine laid out before me.
I get up from the couch and come to greet him. His jaw is tight, his hair a bit disheveled, and the fact that he keeps silent makes me think it’s not just the war planning that has him looking so grave.
His eyes roam over my body hungrily, his hand finding its way through the layers of hair covering my shoulder and pulling me close. I let him do it, approaching with small rapid steps until I crash into his hard chest.
“I missed you,” he says in that low voice I love, teasing my lips with his in a soft, tender caress. “I thought having you close by would be easier, but it only made me want you more. Is that crazy?”
“Well, you did say being bat-shit crazy was a prerequisite for earning the highest rank in the military.”
His chest rumbles with a hum of approval, making me smile against his lips.
“I was waiting all alone in here, you know…” I slide my hand down his chest, watching his eyes darken in response, a silent question looming behind his irises. “And I was thinking that maybe…”
His chin dips ever so slightly, all his attention on me.
“Maybe moving in with you wouldn’t be so bad after all. I’ve found that you don’t snore as loudly as I was picturing it in my head.” I grin.
“Oh, really?” He grabs my ass, squeezing hard. “Is that why you haven’t so far? Because you thought I snored?”
“That… and the fact that I didn’t want to make you get sick of me so quickly. This is still so new. Us.”
“You’re lucky you said that. Because the punishment I was about to give you for what you did earlier… I’m about to turn it into a sweet reward.”
“What? What did I do earlier?” I ponder, though I know the exact moment he’s referring to. “And why am I getting a reward?”
Rowan’s mouth twitches with a smirk as he grips my chin and tilts my head up, keeping it in place.
“You don’t call another man ‘sir.’ Ever. I don’t care if he’s an old teacher, a neighbor whose name you don’t know, or… God forbid, the President.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I laugh, though my breath catches in my throat when the look on his face tells me he’s not joking. “What should I call them then?”
“I don’t care. You want to use that word so badly, you tell me. I’ll bend you over my knee and listen to you say it for as long as you need.”
I bite my lower lip, feeling my cheeks burn under his gaze. “And the reward?”
