Black President Season 2 Collection Page 10

  “I could get real used to this,” I confessed. “Are you tired of me yet?”

  “No,” he rushed to say. “Never. I want this to go on forever.”

  I wished it could too, but all good things, eventually, came to an end.

  Day 4: Emme and I traveled to Florida to rally Senator Jenkins’ constituents. She deserved to win the upcoming race more than the Republican who ran against her. I made the case for why everyone needed to get out in a few more months and vote. Emme and I didn’t return to the White House until late that evening, but at the end of the day, I met Alex in the lobby at a hotel. He gave me some more information about Mr. McNeil, and as we made our way to a suite, we settled for sex on the elevator. Alex was down on his knees with one of my legs thrown over his shoulder. I could barely keep my balance as he feasted on my insides.

  “What am I going to do with you?” I cried out and pulled at his hair. “This is tooooo much!”

  He backed away from my goodness and pecked my thighs with his soft lips. While looking up at me, he smiled.

  “I’ll show you what I’m going to do to you when we get to the suite. I hope you’re ready because it’s going to be a long and eventful night.”

  It took a minute to get to the room, because when Alex dropped his pants and turned me around to face the wall in the elevator, I bent over and allowed him to indulge. My healthy butt cheeks slapped his thighs as he scooped his hard muscle into me. I came more times that night than ever before.

  Day 5: This was the busiest day of all. I entertained groups of visitors at the White House, Stephen and I had a luncheon with several leaders from the Black Lives Matter movement, I participated in a parade and I joined several tourists at the National Museum of African American History & Culture. At the end of the day, I met Alex for dinner. We laughed and ate our hearts out. We resumed our conversation in a private room that had a California King bed and a Jacuzzi. Soft music thumped in the background as I faced him in a lounging chair with no clothes on. We had just gotten out of the Jacuzzi and our wet bodies were close together.

  “How did you know I like Jazz?” Alex asked.

  “There are numerous things that I know, Alex, and the kind of music you enjoy is just one of those things.”

  “Well, I know plenty of things you enjoy too. I also know that I’ve fallen in love with you. And shame on me, because I knew this would happen.”

  As he laid over me, I touched his face again. “I figured it would happen too, but, unfortunately, I won’t be able to do anything about your feelings. I have feelings too, but I could never fall head over heels for a man who works for my husband. You do still work for him, don’t you?”

  Alex moved to the side of me and released a deep breath. “Saying that I work for him is a bit of a stretch. I . . . I just handle some important matters for him when I’m asked.”

  “You mean important matters like screwing me and keeping me busy so I don’t get in his way? Or are you paid to do other things for him like fake an explosion at a hotel so the president can keep the American people on his side and force them to unite.”

  Alex lay silent. He pondered what to say, and when he opened his mouth his words appeared sincere.

  “I’ve been very helpful to the president in telling him things he needs to know. But I haven’t been asked to keep you busy, nor was I behind the explosion. Other agents were, but please know I can’t discuss details about that incident with anyone.”

  “I don’t expect you to go into details, but I was there. The explosion seemed so real. There were dead bodies and everything. How can . . .”

  “Everything is not always what it seems in this country. You were in shock that day, and you were eager to get out of there. The images shown on TV, well, even a director can make a movie appear real. There is a reason for everything, and maybe the president will tell you more. In reference to us, yes, the president told me I could never have you. He said you would never give yourself to a man like me, and I didn’t like that he threatened me.”

  “So, you had something to prove. And now that you’ve conquered the president’s wife, you can throw it in his face and wear your badge of honor, right?”

  “It’s not like that. It was never about me throwing this is in face. I’m being completely honest with you about how I feel.”

  “I believe that you are, Alex. After all, you win, right?”

  “I win because you make me feel like a winner. I am in love with you, Raynetta, and that is the truth. I just didn’t want to share any details with you about the conversations I’ve had with the president. They haven’t been good, and I do believe his threats are serious.”

  “If you believe they are, why are you here? Do you not fear what he will do to you?”

  “Honestly, I don’t. I used to, but not anymore.”

  I knew there was so much more to this, but for now, our conversation ended on that note. I rolled on top of Alex and made sure the camera caught my pretty, smooth cheeks when he slipped his hardness into me again. I laughed at the way it tickled my insides, and I also chuckled when I thought about Stephen’s face when he’d have an opportunity to see the explicit photos of Alex and me from the past five days. Those photos didn’t arrive at the Oval Office until the following day. They were inside of a nicely wrapped gift box with five pair of my moist and sticky panties, compliments of Alex who had definitely taken me there. While speaking to Stephen over the phone, I asked him to carefully open the gift box.

  “There’s not a bomb in here, is it,” he said, jokingly. “The way you’re rushing me to open this, I can only assume what’s inside.”

  “No. No bomb, but it may cause an explosion.”

  “Not in this nicely wrapped box. Whoever wrapped this did a good job.”

  “I’ll be sure to thank the lady at the store later.”

  There was silence, followed by more silence. Nothing was said for, at least, two or three whole minutes. I assumed he was admiring the photos or possibly sniffing my panties.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” I asked. “And now, Mr. President, I think we’re finally even.”

  After those words left my mouth, he hung up the phone. All I heard was the dial tone.

  Day 6: My explicit photos with Alex were on the front page of the National Enquirer. Stephen was the only one who could’ve leaked the photos to the press; I was livid. When he called, I snatched up the phone and listened to him speak in a soft and calm tone.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Raynetta, you will lose every time. If you don’t believe me, ask Alex. By now, he should be at the gates of hell where you’re headed, if you ever try some shit like that again. And for the record, you are now considered an enemy to me.”

  Right after he ended the call, I rushed to call Alex. I was surprised—shocked when Stephen answered his phone.

  “I guess you must be in hell with Alex,” I said. “If not, by this time next week you will be, especially when I tell the media about the fake explosion and about all the dirt you’ve been doing behind closed doors. So, don’t you fuck with me, Stephen. Think wisely, and you can start by telling the American people those photos of me and Alex were doctored. Better yet, tell Alex to do it. He’s your puppet, and if you expect me to believe you killed him, please. I’m not as stupid as you think. There’s a reason why I’m married to the most powerful man in the world, and from the first day I met you, I knew you would be someone special. Going along with the ride hasn’t been easy, but by the time I get finished with you, all of this, Mr. President, will be worth it.”

  There was a long silence, followed by laughter. I hung up on Stephen, and just as I walked to the other side of the hotel room, there was a knock at the door. I had recently called room service, but when I opened the door, I saw a gun aimed directly at my face.

  “Two options,” General Stiles said. “Come with me or find out what a bullet tastes like. The choice is yours.”

  I opened my mouth, but just as I started to speak, I was smacked acros
s my face with the gun. After that, darkness followed.

  President of the United States,

  Stephen C. Jefferson

  I hated it had come to this, but Raynetta’s actions, words and threats didn’t sit right with me. She’d been on my shit list for a very long time, and I didn’t feel good about anyone who had ties with my number one enemy, and then turned around and smiled in my face. Wife or not, I had to find out what her motive was, if she actually had one. I wanted to know what her reason was for staying married to me, the most powerful man in the world, and was this all along a plan of hers that included someone else? So for now, it was back to the underground bunker for me. I wasn’t sure how the night was going to end, and if my precious wife failed to say the right things, the world would hear about the unfortunate demise of the first lady.

  Once again, I entered the cold, concrete room with General Stiles right by my side. Just like Levi, Raynetta had been placed in a chair with her hands cuffed behind her. Her head was slumped, hair covered her bruised face and part of her shirt had been ripped away from her chest. She glared at me with much anger in her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Un-cuff me now, Stephen. What are you doing and where in the hell are we?”

  I turned to General Stiles and lifted my hand. She smiled and slapped in my hand the same 9mm I’d killed Levi with.

  “Un-cuff her and then give us some privacy,” I said to her.

  General Stiles did as she was told. “No problem.” She removed the cuffs from Raynetta’s wrists. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  After she left the room, I gave Raynetta my undivided attention. I grabbed a chair and sat directly in front of her, calm as ever. “It’s time for some real talk, baby, or some real action.” I placed the 9mm on her lap, then retrieved another one that was tucked in the front of my slacks. I aimed the gun at her while looking at the one on her lap.

  “Go ahead and pick it up.” I said. “There’s one bullet inside, and on the count of three, we’re going to exchange gunfire. My advice, don’t miss.”

  Raynetta didn’t hesitate to pick up the gun and aim it at me. Our eyes focused on each other as I started to count.

  “One, two—”

  She fired off a bullet that whistled as it blew past my ear and landed into the concrete wall. I quickly turned around to look at the broken concrete pieces on the ground.

  “Shit!” I said. “You didn’t wait until I got to three and you almost took off my damn ear.” I turned around and touched my ear to make sure it wasn’t bleeding.

  “Unfortunately,” Raynetta said. “I missed. Give me another bullet and I won’t.”

  I stood and walked over to the concrete wall where several other holes were visible. “You have no idea how historic this concrete wall is,” I said, touching the holes in the wall. “These four holes right here are symbolic. So are the two down there, and the one furthest to the left is the most recent.”

  “Good, Stephen. I don’t need a lesson on bullet holes, but thank you very much. Let me out of here, now!”

  I smiled as I returned to the chair and faced her again. “I can’t let you out of here, because you’re in a safe place where you can’t tell anyone my secrets. And as long as you’re down here, no one will know the truth about the explosion. What you don’t understand, Raynetta, is being president of the United States of America is the most difficult position ever. You have so many critical decisions to make, and whatever you do, sometimes, it never seems like enough. People flip on you at the drop of a dime, and after a few years in office, many people start to hate you, maybe even your own wife. So, many years ago, one of my brilliant predecessors created the presidential playbook. Every president has read it, and it gives us tips on what drastic measures to take to get the American people on our side. It tells us how to be creative and concoct certain incidents to cause distractions. It informs us when and when not to go to war. How to really deal with our enemies, and when to make certain announcements to shake up things. It even informs us how to deal with our marriages, and when our wives threaten to reveal our secrets, well, the playbook warns us that things can get a little sticky.” I turned to face the wall again. “So the holes you see back there are from first ladies, like you, who purposely missed their target. Only once did a president get shot, and no one ever knew about it because we only tell the public what we want them to know. So, according to the playbook, congratulations, you passed the trust test. I still, however, have too many doubts about you. I would never do anything to hurt you, but if you attempt to cripple me, my views will change. The playbook says a president should never divorce his wife, under any circumstances, and if he does, the American people will never forgive him. So, the bottom line is, I need you. I need you to put your big girl panties on and ride this shit out with me until I’m done. If your motive all along was to use me to get here, then you’re going to stay here. I don’t give a damn if you love me or not, nor do I care what your intentions were for marrying me. I guess you don’t want to tell me, but like everything else, the truth always comes to the light.”

  Raynetta narrowed her eyes as she looked at me, exemplifying much hatred. “It does come to the light, but just so you know, I have plenty of more secrets you will never know about.”

  “Of course you do, but there is one little other secret I need to go ahead and share with you.”

  I removed an envelope from the inside of my shirt and reached out to give it to her. “If Alex was here,” I said. “He would’ve delivered this to you. But since he’s long gone, allow me to break the news to you.”

  Raynetta hurried to open the envelope. She probably thought the inside contained photos of Alex, but it didn’t. Inside were photos of her family. Of her grandfather in particular, and seeing his photos and background information caused her eyes to grow wide.

  “The only reason I decided to spare that bastard’s life was because of you. It is his poisonous blood that runs through your veins, and when I recently found out who you were to him, I was devastated. Maybe that’s why you can’t love me like I need you to. Maybe you hate me at times because there is something in you, just like him, that triggers you to despise me due to the color of my skin. He’s going down soon enough, but it will be on my terms. I—”

  “Stop it!” Raynetta screamed. “Stop your lies, Stephen, you are such a liar! Mr. McNeil is not my grandfather! There is no way in hell he is, so stop telling lies!”

  “If you don’t believe me, go ask him. He knows who you are, and he hates the hell out of me because I’m married to his granddaughter. If he lies to you, all the proof you need is right there in your hand.”

  “Like hell it is,” she shouted. She ripped the papers and photos to shreds and threw them at me. “This is just something else you fabricated. And if there is any truth to it, why would you stay married to me?”

  “I already told you. The presidential playbook says I can trust you, and I must prepare myself for the duration of—”

  “Fuck the presidential playbook and screw you too! I . . . I need to get out of here. You will not hold me here against my wishes!”

  Raynetta rushed to the door and banged on it. “Open this door, bitch, and let me out of here!”

  “Unfortunately, General Stiles doesn’t follow your orders, only mine. So, come back over here, have a seat and chill. Allow everything I’ve said to you to sink in. And if the chair gets too uncomfortable for you tonight, just pretend you’re in Alex’s bed where you appeared real relaxed and more flexible than you’ve ever been.”

  Raynetta rushed up to me, but after a little arm twisting and necessary force, she was back in the chair with the cuffs tightened on her wrists again. I rubbed the tips of my fingers along the side of her face where the bruise was.

  “Remind me to get at General Stiles for putting this mark on you. She’s supposed to respect the first lady, but since you haven’t been representing, maybe she thought it was okay. I’ll tell her we’re good, and
now that we both know where things really stand, maybe shit will get better between us.”

  Raynetta didn’t say anything until I reached the door.

  “You will pay for this,” she threatened. “If you think I’m going to fall in line and continue my role as first lady, you are out of your damn mind.”

  I chuckled and stroked the hair on my chin while looking at her. “I know you’re going to fall in line, because you invested a lot into this. And if you wanted me dead or you wanted me to pay for this, you would’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

  I unlocked the door and walked out. In a few days, I was positive that Raynetta would have a change of heart. As for tonight, I had other plans. General Stiles headed in one direction, and Lenny took me to Michelle’s place. It was the weekend, so I knew her kids wouldn’t be there. She, however, was standing in the kitchen in front of the sink while filling a pitcher with water. All she had on was a pair of white cotton panties that sat high on her curvy hips. Her white bra was partially unhooked in the back, and her beautiful chocolate skin looked moisturized with oils. I leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, admiring her beautiful mountains that had my steel standing at attention. She carried the pitcher of water to the refrigerator, and as soon as she put it inside, I cleared my throat. Her head snapped to the side; a frown instantly appeared on her face.

  “No,” she said, moving her head from side-to-side. “No, Stephen, you can’t do this. I won’t allow it. You need to leave right now.”

  “I just stopped by to say hello. Am I not allowed to . . .”

  “No. You’re not allowed to do anything and I mean it, Stephen. Leave and don’t ever come here again.”