“Do it,” he says, no questions asked.

“Okay. I will.” I exhale, smiling. “I’m excited. So many things I want to do, I don’t know where to start.”

“Are you all right so far? Do you need anything?”

I shake my head. “All this is so much more than I need.”

“I want you to feel at home.”

“I’m trying.” I shoot him an honest smile. “I don’t want to make a mistake when it’s simply too easy to make one . . . All this is too new. So I’ll just take it one day at a time.”

Matt smiles. “When you love something as much as you love our country, you take care of it—you do anything for it. I have no doubt in my mind I’ve picked the right first lady.”

I’m flushing. Head to toe.

He sets his elbows on his knees as he shifts forward. “I hope you know, baby, asking you to act as first lady is not only an excuse for me to see you. I believe you have a lot to offer our citizens. Regardless of our relationship, I want you to have a salary, and you will be directly compensated for your time by me,” Matt says.

“What? I couldn’t possibly.” I shake my head. “I don’t want a salary.”

“Everyone working here has a salary—except the first lady. Is that fair?” He grins.

“I wasn’t elected to office.”

“Not everyone here was elected.”

I look around, awed by the sumptuous surroundings, the plush upholstered couch beneath me, and I glance at Matt. “I get to do what I most want, sleep safe in the grandest home in the land,” close to you, I don’t add. “I don’t want a salary. If you insist, then we can donate it to Women of the World, help women who can’t find jobs get on their feet.”

“All right then.” He smiles his mercurial smile, one that makes his chiseled face look even more handsome.

I wring my hands. “I never slept with you to get a position in the White House.”

“I know. I need trustworthy people on my team, and I trust you.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Matt,” he says softly.

I smile, but I can’t say it.

“I rather like the sound of Mr. President on your lips.” His smile curves a bit more. “But I miss hearing you say my name.”

“Don’t,” I whisper. “Matt.”

“Come here, baby.” He pats his side.

I swallow, rising to my feet and crossing the room to take a seat beside him.

He reaches out and slips his fingers into the fall of my hair at the back of my neck, seizing me gently as his dark gaze holds mine in its grip, his forehead to mine. “I’ll give you time to get used to all this, but I want to make it clear that you’re still mine. You never stopped being mine, and you never will,” he says.

A promise.

A promise I’m afraid to believe for fear of losing him—never really having him, like before.

I inhale deeply, breathing him in, letting everything Matt surround me, when I feel him tug me closer and brush my lips with his.

I gasp, and Matt flicks his tongue out to taste me.

I groan. Matt groans too and slides his arm around me, taking my mouth fiercely. He pours every ounce of fire into that kiss—his lips the flame, his tongue the accelerant, and I feel the burn. I feel the burn at the tips of my nipples, my fingers, my toes. At the center of my being.

I’m breathing in fast, shallow breaths when we ease apart. “What are we doing here?” I ask, breathless.

He frowns. “Are you asking me or are you asking yourself?”

“Myself. I think. Because I can’t stay away from you.”

“I can’t stay away from you either.”

“We said slow.”

“This . . . is slow.” He cups my face and kisses me again, his tongue plunging into my mouth. “I missed you. See, two months without you was two months too long. I don’t want another day where I don’t see this face. That smile. It has to be here somewhere.” He peers down at my lips, tugging the corners with his thumbs.

“Matt, stop.”

He smiles as I laugh softly—and his smile begins to fade.

The way he stares at my mouth makes me tremble deep inside.

A quiet intensity creeps into his eyes—and they blaze with heat. With emotion. With a possessiveness I’ve never, ever seen there to this degree. Until now. Sixty-eight days after seeing him last.

Sixty-eight days where I thought I couldn’t even breathe knowing I’d lost him. That I could never, ever have him.

My sex ripples.

I groan and I pull him close as he gathers me in his arms.

His mouth is hot and wet and more possessive than it’s ever been, fitting perfectly over mine.

He pulls me closer. I’m shivering on his lap, wanting him to never take his mouth away.

I’m a normal girl. One who fell in love when she shouldn’t have. I’m a daughter, a friend, a working girl. I know my name, somewhere in the back of my mind, but I can’t really remember it. Not now, when the heat of his mouth is working over mine.

We’re starved for each other. My nails sink into the muscles of his back.

Matt’s body shifts beneath me, hard, as he runs his hands over my body as if memorizing every contour, squeezing and shaping my every muscle.

“I want you in the White House. I want you wherever I am.” He’s breathing hard, his voice thick. I’m panting as I kiss his jaw, missing this, missing him.

“I want you coming all over the president’s cock, you little wanton. You delicious little kitten, huh.”