Page 67 of Power

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I despise how in tune with me she is. But what I hate more is the fact she’s not here with me. I pull my shoulders back and resume my duty as the president. “Reece, you said we can’t do this anymore—”

“I was calling to see how you were, Bennett,” she interrupts me.

The hardest words leave my mouth. Maybe she’s right, maybe we shouldn’t do this. I’m the president, and she’s an escort. We can’t be together. “It’s Mr. President,” I say.

I hear the sharp intake of air, almost like she’s disappointed. “Right. I’ll lose your number, Mr. President.”

“I think...” She hangs up before I get the chance to finish my sentence.

I toss the phone on my desk and lean back in my chair looking up at the ceiling. What got into me to make me think we could’ve worked?

I’m the president and my responsibility is to the people. She’s an escort and she’ll ruin my life.

I’m done thinking with my dick.

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