Black President Page 8

  Many of us crammed our luggage, duffle bags, and laptops into several compartments. Our section was rather busy and noisy as well. That was, until the president appeared near the front section of our area with his chief of staff behind him.

  “Welcome, everyone,” he said without looking in my direction. “Thank you all for being here. Once I get things settled in and take care of some minor business, I’ll come back for conversation and questions. Until then, make yourselves at home, eat heartily, and enjoy the long ride.”

  Just for a split second, his eyes connected with mine. He turned to walk away, leaving many of us feeling exuberant and eager to have another casual interview with him.

  Almost an hour later, Air Force One was off the ground and on its way to Africa. The press area was still very noisy, and the reporter I sat next to was known for rambling on and on. She had a lot to say about the president, but all I did was keep my mouth shut and listen. I already talked about him enough on my show, and there were times when I purposely pretended as if I was not on his side. The truth, I was. I loved everything about him and his brash comments, boldness, his arrogance . . . none of those things bothered me one bit. Unfortunately, I hadn’t voted for him, though, and I was starting to regret it.

  “I loved the interview you did with him,” the reporter, Mandy, said. “But if I was given that opportunity, I would have challenged him on way more things than you did. It’s going to take someone brave to stand up to him, and I don’t blame Speaker Robinson for walking out on their meeting. You said he was forced out, but I heard he and other members of Congress left.”

  “You know there are always two sides to every story, sometimes three. And sometimes, we say whatever to get people to tune in. I’ve received a lot of praise for the interview, and because of it, I’m looking forward to a generous promotion when I get back.”

  That surely kept her quiet for a while. Jealousy was written all over her face, and she had directed her negative comments elsewhere. Not having much sleep, I tucked a pillow close to my neck, then leaned my head to the side. Within minutes, I was out.

  * * *

  What seemed like hours later, I cracked my eyes open to dim lights inside, darkness outside. I couldn’t believe I had slept this long, and when I looked around, several others were asleep as well. Mandy was reading a book. I stole her attention to inquire about what I had missed.

  “Did the president return? I didn’t hear a thing; this ride is so smooth.”

  “You didn’t miss anything. He hasn’t returned yet, and it is rare that we ever see or hear from the president while on here.”

  “I guess he’s busy, but if you don’t mind, I need to go to the restroom. Can you move aside?”

  She stood so I could get out. It took every bit of two minutes for me to handle my business, and right after I came out, I was met by security.

  “I need you to come with me,” he said.

  Several people looked at me as if I had been caught with drugs. All I did was shrug, as if I didn’t know why I was being asked to follow him.

  “Chanel, are you okay?” one reporter asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I lost one of my bags earlier. Maybe they found it for me.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s happened to me before too.”

  I kept it moving behind security, and after a lengthy walk in the other direction, I was finally face-to-face with the president again. I swore before God that the magazine who had named him one of the sexiest men alive had gotten it right. He looked even sexier while sitting in the dim office, with recessed lighting, shirt unbuttoned, tie pulled away from his neck, and no shoes on his feet.

  “Anything else, Mr. President?” Security asked.

  “No. Thank you, John. That will be all.”

  John left the room, closing the door behind him. I stood in front of the kitty-cornered, wooden desk with a tight skirt and wrinkled blouse on. My hair was now in a ponytail, and there was very little makeup on my face. I only wished that I had more time to get myself together, but the slight smile on his face implied that he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Have a seat,” he said, directing his eyes to the leather sectional that sat several feet away from his desk. A wide-screen TV was mounted behind the sectional, and only one reclining leather chair was in front of his desk.

  I backed up to the sectional, taking a seat. He immediately joined me, facing me as we began to converse.

  “You must’ve been tired,” he said. “I had someone check on you earlier, but they said you were out like a light.”

  “Fortunately, I was. I needed that sleep, and I’m sure that you need to get some too.”

  “I do, but sleep can wait.”

  “It shouldn’t have to. It’s the most important thing your body needs.”

  “Could be, but do you mind if I tell you what else my body needs?”

  I swallowed hard before speaking. “For some reason, I get a feeling that you’re going to show me, instead of tell me.”

  “I just may do that. Besides, who needs to talk when we both are in professions that require us to talk all day long?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  I leaned in a little farther than he did to steal a kiss. Our tongues danced for a while, and then I reached out to do something that I couldn’t wait to do. I unbuttoned his crisp, white shirt, peeling it away from his buffed chest that was solid as a rock. My hands rubbed all over his chest, before I moved them to massage his back. His body was cut and carved to perfection. The honeydew taste of his lips had me locked in a trance. I didn’t dare look into his eyes yet, but when I had the courage to, they lured me right in. I quickly surrendered myself to him by leaning back on the sectional and staring deep into his eyes that spoke volumes to me without him ever saying one word. He blinked, then lowered his lips to my neck, delicately licking it up and down. His pointed tongue traveled south, and requiring access to my firm breasts, he yanked on my blouse, causing buttons to pop and my blouse to tear open. The light purple bra I wore stood in the way. But after unlatching the front of it with his teeth, he went all in, treating my nipples as if they were precious black diamonds. His tongue twirled in slow, rhythmic circles around them, making them wet and sticky. I was very much caught up in the moment, and when a high arch formed in my back, he secured his arm around me, carefully bringing me closer to him. My body felt limp . . . weak in his strong arms, and my pussy had already started to rain.

  “Mr. President, help me, please,” I whined. “Help me make my fantasies a reality, and let me show you how much I want . . . need this.”

  Helping me in a major way, he lifted me from the couch, still holding me in his arms. I wrapped my legs around him, and we made a quick transition from his office to the presidential suite. I was surprised by how modern and sleek it was, but the last thing on my mind was the décor. He laid me on the bed with a tufted headboard and began to remove his clothes. My narrowed eyes scanned down his impeccable, chocolate body that made a little of my saliva drizzle from the corner of my mouth. The size of his package was jaw-dropping, and after he stripped me naked, he crawled on the bed, giving me the royal treatment. I shuddered uncontrollably from the feel of his thick, wet lips planting delicate and sensual kisses all over my body. I tried to calm myself, but the feel of his velvety tongue venturing from one hotspot to the next took my breath away. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me, especially when he wrapped my legs around his waist, then cracked my secret code with his lengthy, extremely hard, muscle. My stomach tightened; I held my breath and relished the feel of him maneuvering his way in. It was everything that I imagined it to be . . . and so much more. I clawed at the soft, cotton sheets, begging him to pinch me somewhere . . . anywhere, so I would know this was real.

  “Pinch you?” he whispered in my ear while stroking me at a tranquilizing pace. “You’ll know it’s real when I make you come all over me.”

  No questions about it, he was in command. He lifted m
y legs, kissing them tenderly, before placing them over his broad shoulders. The pace increased and rhythm changed, right after he journeyed a little bit deeper. At that point, tears welled in my eyes—he was just that good to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him; his eyes were locked on me as well. He reached for my hands, placing them over my head and clenching them with his as we rocked our bodies together. I was completely stuffed with his goodies, and as he methodically worked his magic stick in and out of me, I knew I would never get enough of this. Mr. President was a smooth lover, and I had never met a man to smack it up, flip it, taste it, and rub it down, all at the same time, like he did. My juices boiled over, and sweat rained on our naked bodies that made sweet music for almost the entire night. I wasn’t sure how we were going to keep this a secret, but we would soon find out that cameras—even on Air Force One—revealed everything.

  8

  Vice President Tyler McNeil

  I had gotten ahead of myself, but I didn’t sweat it because this was how the game of politics was played. I think every vice president had a desire to actually be the president, and not too many were comfortable being the second man in charge. I was bored to death. Thus far, Stephen hadn’t utilized me in a way that I thought he would. He boldly took charge and hadn’t listened to any of my advice. That angered me to a certain extent, and to be honest, who in the hell wanted an egotistical black man calling all of the shots? I surely didn’t, and neither did the American people. Yes, the majority had voted for him, but that was all in the plan. Many Republicans voted for a Democrat just so Stephen and I would win. I couldn’t run against him, because Democrats never would have switched their votes for me. Since the Republican Party had diminished over the years, we had to create a new playbook. We had to get on the ticket with a vulnerable Democrat and profess to the American people that we shared the same views as the Democratic Party did. It was the only way for us to eventually push our conservative agenda forward. Once Stephen was dead, or impeached, I would be in power to finally take this country back. It was time, and after plotting for several years, it would be done.

  With my hands dipped into my pockets, I raked my blond hair while pacing the floor in front of my grandfather’s chair. Speaker Robinson was also in the room smoking a cigar, and our dedicated former Secret Service agent, Ben, was there as well. My grandfather, Christopher J. McNeil, was one of the wealthiest men alive. He had the real power, and in no way was he happy about Stephen being president.

  “Africa is where he belongs,” my grandfather said while scratching his snow-white beard. “He needs to stay there and take some of these other idiots who are destroying our country with him.”

  “If it wasn’t for me being dismissed the other day,” Ben said, kissing up to my grandfather, “Mr. President wouldn’t be coming back from Africa. He’d be dead.”

  My grandfather slammed his hand on the table. “Well, thanks to you and that goddamn soda, that won’t be happening. Now, we have to wait and come up with a new plan, since he requested all new Secret Service agents.”

  I regretted Stephen’s request, and I thought that Ben’s and Paul’s apologies would be enough. I had to let my grandfather know that I didn’t have anything to do with Stephen’s decision. “That slob Andrew is in the process of hiring new agents. And you can bet that he is going to dig deep into their backgrounds and make sure they are fitting for the job. Getting to Stephen will be more difficult now.”

  My grandfather slowly nodded. “You’re damn right it will be, and the more I think about it, Ben, get the hell out of here! Shoo and don’t come back! You’ve let me down, and no one, ya hear me, no one on my team lets me down!”

  My grandfather’s whole face was beet red. He was livid, and his cold, blue eyes stared Ben down as he exited the room with his head hanging low.

  “Fucking idiot,” my grandfather barked, then fell back in his chair. He crossed his legs, then darted his finger at me. “We don’t have much time to waste. The longer that nigger stays—”

  “Grandfather, I get your point. I already know what I have to do, and it starts with getting Stephen to trust me. In order for him to even consider me as his VP, he already has some kind of faith in me. We all knew that this would take time, and it would seem a little suspicious if something happened to him his first sixty days in office. Maybe it’s a good thing that Ben didn’t kill him that day. His mother saved him when she showed up—I had no idea she’d be there. I was surprised by Chanel Hamilton being there as well.”

  Speaker Robinson whistled smoke holes into the air, then laughed. “That little pretty black bitch was there to fall on her back and get some yum-yum. She’s on that trip to Africa too, and if you ever want to disrupt a coon’s life, all you have to do is feed’em some good pussy. She’s going to help us accomplish what we want, and so is that loudmouthed mother of his. The first lady will be beneficial too, just wait and see.”

  “That might be true,” my grandfather said, “but don’t you dare sit there and refer to that woman as first lady. First ladies don’t conduct themselves like she does, and, quite frankly, they don’t look like her. I have nothing nice to say about that angry woman. Every time I see her, I want to puke all over myself. I will be more than delighted when she’s packing her bags and is on her way out of the White House.”

  “Rest assured,” I said even though I sort of liked the first lady, my issues were with Stephen, “she will be out. But I don’t want any of us to underestimate Stephen, especially you, Roy. He’s a very intelligent man, with weaknesses I think we can tap into. I do, however, fear that some Congress members may start to listen to him. Are you positive that you have the Republican Party in line? While in that meeting yesterday, I saw some members of your party wavering a bit.”

  “They can waver all they want, but the votes will never add up in the president’s favor, unless I want them to.” He leaned back in the chair with a smirk on his face. “Now, when I tell you two not to worry, I mean it. We won’t have to lift a finger to cause the president’s demise. The truth is, my brother from another mother, Stephen C. Jefferson, will eventually destroy himself.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” My grandfather held up his shot glass of whiskey, then clinked it against ours. He gave me a stern look while tightly cuffing his hand. “Squeeze his balls and make him scream like a bitch. I want him to regret ever wanting to be president and for even thinking that he could be. And when you have his balls in your hand, drag him back to the streets where he belongs and pay one of those other coons twenty bucks to blow his fucking brains out.”

  “Ten dollars,” Speaker Robinson said. “I’m sure you could get one of them to do it for ten.”

  We all released hearty chuckles, knowing that Stephen’s downfall was imminent.

  9

  First Lady Raynetta Jefferson

  I hated when Stephen was away from me. His trip to Africa lasted five long days. The only time I’d gotten a chance to see him was on TV. We spoke twice, that was all. It seemed that his trip had gone well, very well, especially when I tuned in to Chanel Hamilton’s show and discovered that she was also in Africa. I predicted that she would interview Stephen again, but during her reporting, she seemed to only cover information that had been passed down from other journalists. Not once did I see a close-up between the two, but that didn’t mean much. The revealing moment came when Stephen entered our bedroom in silence. It was almost nine o’clock at night; I was in bed reading.

  “So, how did it go?” I said, observing him as he strolled in front of the bed with his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned and his high fade needed a trim.

  “It went well. Better than I expected, but the African people still have a lot of issues. Mainly because of a corrupt government, but who am I to judge when our government is no better?”

  “Right. Same story, different country. What else did you do?”

  He yawned, then came over to my side of the bed. A soft kiss was plante
d on my forehead, before he started to remove his shirt. I could smell his masculine cologne, and I thought I would be able to smell her perfume, but I didn’t.

  “Too much to talk about tonight. We’ll talk more in the morning. For now, I need a shower and some rest.”

  Stephen removed his shirt, then laid it across a chair. I figured that my observing eyes on him made him a little uneasy, because he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Minutes later, I heard the shower come on. We hadn’t made love in God knows when, but tonight, I was in the mood. I placed the romance novel I was reading on the nightstand, then proceeded out of bed. My silk nightgown clung to my sexy curves that not many men could ignore. I removed my gown, laying it on the bed. In all of my nakedness, I sauntered toward the bathroom and entered. The room was filled with steam—Stephen loved to take scorching-hot showers. I could barely see him standing in the shower, but I could smell the black peppercorn body wash he used to lather his body. The closer I got, I could see him facing the wall. His muscular, stallionlike frame from the backside took my horniness up a notch. I hurried to enter the shower, then wrapped my arms around his waist. He seemed startled and quickly pivoted to face me.

  “I thought you could use some company,” I said in a soft tone.

  He stared at me for a few moments, and then removed my arms from around him. “I don’t mind if you stay, as long as you’re good with it.”

  “If I wasn’t good with it, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Without replying, he turned his back toward me again. He started to wash his body, but this time I helped. My hands massaged his tight muscles, but as I reached around to touch the most impressive muscle on his body, he moved my hand away from it.