© 2019 Juice Gems Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

Shared By Her Bodyguards

Bonus Chapter

Elizabeth
One Year Later

One thing nobody ever told me: being President of the United States was, most of the time, tremendously boring.


“What are the exact numbers?” I asked my Secretary of Commerce. We were seated around the long table in the Roosevelt Room discussing the number of soy exports going from Russia to China. The Secretary of Commerce was a grey-haired woman who looked like the female version of a drill instructor, constructed solely from hard planes and scowls. She lifted a piece of paper and squinted.


“400,000 tons by 2022,” she said ominously. “Madam President, at present rates we estimate that number to be closer to a million by 2025.” 


Don’t get me wrong. I loved every minute of every day of this job. It was everything I had dreamed of, and more.


But some days were more boring than others. I stared up at the painting of Theodore Roosevelt on horseback, with the iconic cowboy hat with one side folded up in the cattleman’s crease. The horse was rearing back in a dramatic pose. I bet Teddy never had to deal with the minutia of soybean exports.


We spent an hour going over the various sources of soybeans in the world, and the potential threat to our own soy farmers in Iowa and Nebraska. Trade was no small thing, to the point that even the Secretary of Defense had some choice words of opinion regarding Russia’s sudden influx of soybeans on the world market. In the end, it was decided that another meeting with the Chinese Trade Minister would need to be scheduled for next month. 


I shook hands with everyone and left the Roosevelt Room. My assistant was waiting right outside, a distressed look on her face. “Madam President, the diplomat from Pakistan has been waiting for over 15 minutes…”


“He thinks he’s more important than soybeans, does he?”


“I’m sorry?”


“It was a joke.” I looked at my watch. “He can wait longer. I’m taking my lunch in the residence.” 


“Yes, Madam President.”


I went outside and walked along the colonnade that connected the West Wing to the White House. My violet suit and skirt were marked with brass buttons and hugged my waist and bodice, with a high collar that itched when I turned my head. But I looked fantastic in it, and it made me look taller. 


Appearances were far more important as leader of the free world than as a mere senator from Ohio.


I climbed the old stairs to the upper floor of the White House, where the residences were located. Ethan was relaxed in one of the armchairs facing away from me, a book spread open in his large hands.


“You know what’s boring?” I said as a greeting. “Soybeans.”


He turned in the chair and smiled at me. “I was hoping you’d come back for lunch. Why are soybeans boring?”


“Because they are,” I whined, kicking off my heels. “And they’re incredibly important. Apparently, soybean trade is the glue that keeps the world from falling apart.”


“Never would have guessed.” He blinked as I shimmied out of my panties. “Changing before another meeting?”


“No.”


“Then what are you—”


I straddled him on the chair and kissed him. “I’m doing this.”


I had his zipper open and his long cock out within seconds. I eased myself down onto it, sighing when I had taken all of him. 


“Glad to see you too,” Ethan said, beautiful face smiling up at me. He let out a soft sound as I began riding him. “I’m flattered you’d rather be with me than someone more important. Don’t you have a busy schedule?”


“I’m putting off a meeting with the Pakistani diplomat. Nothing important.”


He closed his eyes as I picked up pace. “Don’t they have nukes?”


“Mmm hmm.”


“You’d better… not… upset… them…” he groaned.


There in the private residences, I rode my private bodyguard until we both had to suppress our cries to keep the Secret Service outside my door from hearing.


I wolfed down my sandwich afterward, with another cup of strong coffee. It was going to be another long day. They were all long when you ran the country.


“Things going better with the cabinet?” Ethan asked before taking a bite of his club sandwich.


“Better, but still not ideal,” I said. “They all stare at me like I’m their daughter, their tones lecturing.” 


“It’s still the first year. Most of them are twice your age. The respect will come, in time.”
“I know,” I said. “But it’s frustrating in the mean time.” 


He kissed me on the cheek, leaving a tiny smear of mayonnaise behind. He rubbed it with his thumb. “You’re POTUS. Not them. Don’t let it get you down.”


The way he spoke about me always gave me confidence. Like he was reinforcing me with steel, reminding me who I was. I don’t know how I could have done this job without him and the others by my side. I would have fallen apart on the first day.


I finished my sandwich, kissed him goodbye, and returned to the West Wing with some extra pep in my step.


I passed by a Secret Service agent in the hall by the Press Secretary’s office. I’d made a call after my inauguration to get Anthony duBois admitted into the Secret Service. Getting them to bend their rules of visible tattoos had been tough, but he loved it far more than he’d enjoyed his job in the United States Capitol Police. And not just because it meant being close to me.


He made a grunting noise as I passed. The kind a guy makes when his juicy steak arrives at the table. The kind he’d made the first time he saw me on The Hill two years ago.


“Excuse me?” I said, stopping. There was nobody nearby, allowing us to have a little fun. “Is there something I can help you with, Agent duBois?”


Anthony’s smile sparkled in his dark eyes. “There’s plenty you could help me with, sugar,” he said in a deep, suggestive voice.


“That’s Madam President,” I corrected, giving him my best presidential scowl. “I’ll expect you to be waiting in my residence tonight so I can give you a proper lesson on respect.”
“Yes, Madam President.”


I could feel him staring at my ass the rest of the way down the hall. It put a permanent smile on my face.


Luca was waiting at the door to the Oval Office. The Secret Service suit looked far more natural on him than on Anthony, but then again, he’d been wearing it for close to 20 years. 


“He’s been complaining a lot,” he said, referring to the Pakistani diplomat waiting within. 
“Good. The more he sweats, the easier it will be to convince him to let us use his airbases for another three years. I’ve got him right where I want him.”


“I’m sure you do, Madam President.”


We shared a private smile before he opened the door for me.


The meeting with the diplomat went exactly as I hoped, though the pleasantries and details took almost two hours. After that I had an updated security briefing on the escalating tensions in central Africa, with a quick update on North Korea’s ballistic missile program. Then I departed by motorcade to visit the Whitman Walker Clinic as part of World AIDS Day, with an hour of meet-and-greets and photographs, followed by a similar event at Howard University attended my local religious leaders. Luca was by my side during most of the events until we returned to the White House.


Then came two hours of meetings with my own staff to discuss policy and agenda. 30 minutes with my economic adviser John Street, and 45 with Stephanie Berger from national security. It required all of my attention and focus, and by the time I was heading back to the residence at 6:30pm I was exhausted.


“You did well today,” Luca said by my side.


“You say that every day.”


“I mean it every day, Madam President.”


I grinned over at the rugged agent. “I never get tired of hearing that.”


Ethan and Anthony were already playing chess when we arrived. “Who’s winning?” I asked.
“I am,” Anthony said. Neither of them looked up from their game. 


“You’re winning this game,” Ethan corrected. “I’m up three games to two.”


“Details.”


I considered changing clothes, but didn’t have the energy to get all the way to the bedroom closet. But I did have enough energy to go to the drawer of the side table and pull out a pearl-accented jewelry box. From inside I plucked out three almost-identical wedding bands, each inlaid with small accent gems.


The one with the emeralds was for Ethan, green and sharp like his eyes.


Garnets were for Anthony, to celebrate the lasagna I’d made him that first night long ago.
Luca was diamonds. Not for any particular reason. Just because he said I deserved some diamonds on my finger.


I couldn’t wear these around in public, but I never forgot to put them on the moment I walked into the residence at the end of the day. When we were all together. 


Some day, when all of this was over, we’d be able to settle down somewhere and live a normal life. Or at least normal by comparison. But for now, the secrecy was necessary. 
None of them seemed to mind. They understood. 


I sank into one of the armchairs—the same one I’d found Ethan in this afternoon—and let out a long sigh.


Ethan looked over. “Long day?”


“They’re all long. But this one longer than most.”


“The chef brought dinner five minutes ago,” Anthony said. He carefully picked up a rook, moved it across the board, then let go. “Roast with carrots.”


“I’m too tired to lift a fork,” I said melodramatically. “Insert food directly to mouth, please.”


A cork popped in the residence kitchen. “I’ll have a plate right out.”


Anthony winced as Ethan captured the rook he had just placed. Anthony rose and came over to my chair.


“Dude, we’re not done,” Ethan complained. 


“Then you win,” the new Secret Service agent said. He still wore the suit and tie, and looked as dashing as could be as he knelt at my feet and removed my heels. “Foot massage?”


He dug his thumb into the arch of my foot, instantly melting away a chunk of the tension I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I let out a totally new kind of sigh and leaned back in the chair.


“I needed that.”


“You also need this,” Luca said as he returned from the kitchen with two glasses of merlot. “This bottle was a gift from the Canadian Prime Minister. It’s from their 1992 vintage.”


I accepted the glass and sniffed it. “I didn’t realize Canada was known for their grapes.”
“They’re not.” Luca took a sip. “But it’s very good.” 


I tasted my own glass. It was very good. “Thank goodness for allied nations.”


“Where’s our glasses?” Anthony asked while digging into my feet. Ethan nodded in solidarity.


“I work for her, not you,” Luca said.


Ethan bent down to give me a welcoming peck on the lips. “Want a plate?”


“Yes please. Extra carrots.”


He brought me a plate of food, though I did not insist on them feeding it directly into my mouth. They grabbed their own plates—except for Anthony—and we sat around chatting about the day. Having someone to vent to was crucial for this job, I had come to realize. Having three someones was even better.


When Ethan was done eating, he took Anthony’s place at my feet so he could get a plate. I don’t know what I did to deserve such doting bodyguards, but they were all completely dedicated to my well-being. Both physically and mentally.

 
Ethan took my plate away, then climbed into the seat behind me, sliding down so that he was right behind me like two people in a rowboat. I doubled over and let him begin massaging the knots out of my shoulders and back.


“Do you ever wish I had lost the election?” I suddenly asked. 


I felt Ethan’s fingers pause. “Why do you ask that?”


“I don’t know. The three of you would be living more normal lives. We wouldn’t have to sneak around as much.”


“I kind of like the sneaking around,” Anthony said as he swirled wine in his glass. “Besides, I like Martha Washington’s stemware.”


Luca examined his glass. “I think these were chosen by the Kennedys.” 


“Whoever. I like ‘em.” Anthony gestured around the room. “I like all of this. It’s much better than just being a USCP officer. Or a bodyguard to a senator.” 


“I would’ve been fired from the Service if not for you,” Luca said slowly. “You have given me a chance to continue doing what I love, Elizabeth. With the added bonus of getting to protect the woman I love, too.”


“Cheers to that,” Ethan said, bending forward to kiss my back.


We went back to talking about our respective days, with the guys dishing out gossip about the rest of my cabinet and the visitors who had come to the West Wing today. I had my dream job, with my dream men surrounding me during the day and at night. It was everything I could have asked for.


Someday, it would end. I would have to return to the normal world as an ex-president. But for now, the four of us were at bliss.


I closed my eyes and savored it while it lasted. 

If you enjoyed this story, check out this other Cassie Cole romance: THE NAUGHTY LIST!

It's company policy: don't sleep with your employees.

No matter how handsome and flirty they may be.

Yet when my promotion puts me in charge of the three of them?

That policy is going to be awfully hard to follow. 

Liam, the chestnut-haired boy next door I've flirted with for five years--and who is finally single.

Arthur, the suave French accountant who pronounces my name like it's an expensive wine.

Robbie, the awkward computer nerd whose chiseled body and sleeve tattoos hint at a hidden life.

The four of us have to finish our big project by Christmas.

Which means my gorgeous employees are totally off-limits.

But that just makes our professional relationship even more tantalizing.

Especially as we start working long hours in the office.

With our careers on the line, can we ignore the growing attraction between us?

Or will we all end up on Santa's naughty list?