Political Gratification (Interracial-BWWM Novel)

Chapter 3: Perverse but Sexy

Preston stood there in a state of utter disbelief as he stared at the door that had just been slammed shut in his face. He had to be seeing and hearing things because he had never been so disrespected in his life before. No one had ever dared to speak or act this way towards him of all people so when she told him to basically fuck off he couldn't help but just stand there, stunned.

There was no reason for the way she'd acted. It was completely uncalled for and just plain perverse. Maybe that's how all black people act; improper and unreasonable. That's what he'd been told at least.

"Senator! Are you coming or are you just going to continue staring a hole into the door of that young lady's home?" Samuel called.

That snapped him out of the state Preston seemed to be frozen in and got his legs moving. Samuel was lucky he was good at his job with all the snarky comments he'd made during this pre-campaign and even his entire employment as Preston's manager, and at that moment he was deadly close to firing him. His father had hired him after convincing him of his considerable acumen in the public relations field. He was said to be the best in the business and, as of yet, he had given the word of mouth veracity. At his side, Samuel had earned Preston a seat in the Senate two consecutive times and gotten publicity for my future campaign, and Preston was grateful for his vigilance, but as of now, he was not so sure of the strength of his loyalty.

Preston stepped into the SUV and sat down next to Samuel as one of the Secret Service agents, Callahan closed the door behind him.

"That went well, although you should've stuck to your guns on the matter of leaving sooner rather than later, but you know, don't listen to old Sammy over here. Not like he's done this many times before," Sam mentioned as he chuckled sardonically.

Preston glared at him, his mouth a thin line. Sam seemed to notice as he shrank into his seat. He'd been badgering him about the fact that he'd given into the charms of Ms. Charles ever since she'd left the room.

Part of him was slightly embarrassed at the fact that he allowed her to play him so well. He was, after all, Senator Preston Phillips of Virginia, known lady's man and political conqueror, so how could he allow a lowly, local wanna-be speech writer to manipulate him?

For the rest of the ride, the car was silent except for the hum of the car's wheels rolling on the pavement, which Preston tuned out as his mind wandered to the woman he'd just met what seemed like moments ago. She had several tattoos that were clearly visible. Although, they were tasteful and in a word that was too simplistic to describe them to the full capacity, beautiful, they would need to be covered by layers of makeup if she didn't want to come off as trashy.

The one on her forearm that I'd noticed read "Never open the door to a lesser evil, for other and greater ones invariably slink in after it."

When Preston saw it when they shook hands, he wondered what it meant to her. It was a quote from The Art of Worldly Wisdom by Baltasar Gracián. It was a powerful novel that could be hard for some to understand. Hell, it was hard for Preston himself to understand. It was written almost 300 years ago and was a confusing read so when he'd read it, he knew without a doubt she must be intelligent.

For whatever reason a wave of pride came over him at the thought that the woman he was being forced to soon marry actually had an intelligence quotient.

"Give me her file please," Preston demanded of Samuel as he leaned into his chair, his long legs lengthen in his seat to provide him increased comfort.

"What are you gonna do? Memorize the thing? You've already looked at it 2 times: at home and on the plane ride here. Do you think a new fact is going to appear on the paper?" Samuel complained, handing the file to him anyways.

Preston found Nelly to be the most enthralling woman he'd met. The women he'd dated before her were bred for the spotlight he was under. Born for the candidacy, born to be housewives and mothers to his political offspring when in actuality, they did absolutely nothing in the house, preferring to allow the maids and butlers that came with his title to take care of the household, and absolutely nothing to take care of their children. That was the primary reason he chose emotionally detached sex over dating an emotionless, gluttonous whore who he'd probably never fully love.

The women that gravitated toward him were power and money hungry fiends with perfect propriety, but fucking terrible morals and beliefs that added up to time unworthy conversations and mothers calling to plan weddings unheard of.

Preston thought of the woman he'd be planning a very real wedding with and the life she had before him. Reading her file again, he was reminded of her intelligence and potential. She'd went to Georgetown University to study political science and sociology. In the middle of her studies there she'd transferred to the University of Miami due to family issues. Preston had later found out that her brother, Darrell Charles had been shot and killed in an alley and left for dead.

He'd apparently been selling marijuana and an opposing gang had shot him on site. Preston felt a pang of sympathy for the situation she'd had to go through, but swallowed it down as the car turned into the hotel entrance.

Tomorrow, Preston would be returning to her home to discuss some matters that needed to be taken care of. They had to release the fact that they were together and getting married to the press, as soon as possible, so that the country could get off his ass about being a racist.

Samuel began to drone on and on about the press ops they would be forced to participate in or assure the public of their relationship. Tomorrow would only be the beginning of the fight to make their affair seem veracious.

"We also must think about the legal matters that will go hand in hand with the matters of this relationship. The contracts that have to be written up. The prenup that has to be negotiated upon. It will of course have strict constrictions that will protect your assets so she doesn't bilk you of every last dollar, but–." Samuel was cut off by Preston's deep sigh.

"Excuse me! I'm just helping you...!"

Preston scoffed and rolled his eyes just thinking about the situation. As they exited the vehicle, Secret Service surveying the area before allowing the two men in the backseat to step out and onto the gravel of the parking lot. The moment they'd walked into the elevator, Preston felt instantly exhausted. He needed sleep. After the flight down here, they'd headed straight for Nelly's home and that was five plus hours ago. He needed to reboot and wake up with a mind refreshed and that was exactly what he was going to do.

After Preston took a shower and ate, he walked sluggishly into his room with his eyes half closed. He finally made it to his bed and fell atop the sheets groaning as the plush comforter caressed his skin. He inched his body up the bed and under the comforter and fell asleep to the feeling of being surrounded by Egyptian cotton and feather pillows and to the image of a self-dependent black woman playing with the children of her neighborhood.