The Oval Office ✓ (Book One)

Chapter Seventy

In just the past five years, technology's advanced at a scary rate. There are virtual reality games that now simulate smells, tastes- even feelings, but it's come at a cost. The earth's temperature has risen 5% in the past two years- what's now considered a dangerously high rate. If we continue at it, we'll all be dead in just fifty years, so the Green Party has now emerged as a major political party for the 2032 presidential election.

On the Green Party ticket?Abigail Lincoln and Marisol. I'll have to admit that I never expected those two to work together, or for Marisol to become involved with any political party, but it's not that surprising. Her policies always favored the environment over anything else.

Abigail Lincoln is the only remaining member of Abraham Lincoln's bloodline. It'll end with her too, since she's gay and fifty seven years old. She's the sitting mayor of Chicago and the Vice President on the ticket, with Marisol being the presidential candidate.

She didn't seem like she ever wanted to run for anything, but people change, I guess. David Miller's running on the democratic ticket and hasn't announced a running mate yet, though there's a couple of senators and representatives in the shortlist.

The door automatically swings open upon the reader flashing green, and I walk in. Mina sits at her laptop in the living room, typing out a book review for school and Ella's standing around the corner, watching her while trying not to be creepy. "Where's Kyle?" I ask.

She points up the main staircase, which leads to the area where a couple of guest bedrooms and our offices are. Of course- we're just a couple of chapters away from finishing the book.

I set my purse down on a chair, glancing at Mina one last time before heading up. She goes through about ten career possibilities every year, but one that's stuck the most is political activism.

I'm not surprised- she's grown up with us as parents and is well aware of her genetic heritage. She got suspended last year for writing a paper that basically called her principal a shit-head in nicer terms. To be fair, he is a shit head.

I knock on his office door before letting myself in, and rest my head on his shoulder. The current word count of the manuscript reads 297,628 -just a few thousand away from our goal. Thank god somebody else gets to edit if after we're done. His fingers linger over the keyboard, trying to find the right words to describe seeing me in the hospital.

"Take a break-" I say. "I'll finish it up."

"You've been at work since 9 am, you're the one that needs a break." He pulls me down onto the loveseat, and I snuggle up to him.

"I have tomorrow off-" I shrug. "I could just stay up all night and...sleep in a bit."

My fingers trace the outline of his abs under his shirt, a suggestive look on my face. "Maybe I could stay up for a while too." He rubs his chin, pretending to think. "If we finish it tonight, we'll be able to send it to the editors by the end of the week and get a break."

"Well I have some other work to catch up on too." I sarcastically say. "I've got lots of things to...do."

  I stand up and lock his office door. Thank god most of the rooms are soundproof.

  I drop my jacket behind me, returning to the loveseat. I kick my boots off, straddling him. His hands hungrily slide up my now bare back, un-clipping my bra in one try. Our lips connect, and I'm gasping for air by the time I finally pull away.

As I tuck my hair behind my ears, he he pulls his shirt off, and I throw the bracelets on my wrists onto his desk.

Our lips reconnect, his fingers slipping under the hem of my navy blue work pants. In one go, I yank them and my underwear off, now fully exposed. I sit in a way that allows easy access, and he pulls me a little bit closer to the edge, sitting in the floor with his hands gripping my thighs.

It took a long time and two reconstruction surgeries before everything was right down there again. The burns damaged most of the nerve endings, so sometimes I would orgasm just from brushing up against my jeans- and others, it would take an hour and a half and be so ridiculously weak it was infuriating. The first one- believe it or not, was actually more annoying. I can't count the number of times I was at a work event and had to act completely normal when it happened and wouldn't stop for over thirty seconds because I accidentally bumped into a chair or something. Now though, everything works and feels better than it did before.

No more surprise orgasms. As I'm about to reach my high, my phone starts ringing from my pocket in the floor. I groan- it's my work one too, so I have to answer it.

I roll my eyes, reluctantly reaching forward to grab it as the high starts to go away. I look at the caller ID- and it's David. What could he possibility want?

Before he resigned his position as the senate majority leader to run for President, our offices would have to work together on national security investigations from time to time. There was one a few months ago- just before he resigned, where they got intel that a detainee at Guantanamo bay was planning an attack on the capitol building. As you can imagine that didn't exactly work out for him, and his sentence was extended to a life one.

It was found that there were about ten guards in on it, who automatically received life sentences too. They've really got to be fucking stupid to think that any terrorist attack would work nowadays. The security and technology in and around government buildings is insane, and airspace is restricted within a ten mile radius of capital building grounds as well as the White House's. It's safe to say the government learned it's lesson about security after that horrific day all those years ago.  Former Minister Garland still isn't right in the head, and has attempted, though failed to kill himself multiple times.

  That's one death I'll never be able to  rid my mind of the image. Amber wasn't in any condition to run and I made him do it anyways, which didn't end well for him. I keep thinking to this day that if I'd made him stay behind and just ran like absolute hell, I would've been able to get out of the castle by breaking a window. There was a public street on the side that I was trapped in after all- so two extra seconds would've made the difference, or if I hadn't stood there in shock for almost twenty seconds like an idiot, I could've gotten a head start on running like a crazy person into the street.

  But there's no point in dwelling on the past. It'll consume you if you let it, taking every bit of sanity you have left.

  I tap my phone screen to accept the call. "What do you want, David?"

  "I wanted you to hear this from me first since it was just a consideration and one of my campaign advisors blabbed her mouth to a reporter-"

  "David, what?" I impatiently ask. I hear him take a deep breath on the other end before he answers.

  "I'd like you to join the ticket as my Vice President."