Sofia had to get back to the congressional hearing but everything was going wrong. She looked desperately at the camera in the journalist's hand.
“Please delete them,” she said.
“Delete them?!” He frowned incredulously. “They're priceless! Sofia Jordan, the left’s notoriously outspoken congresswoman has a coke habit? This is gold!”
Sofia gazed at him helplessly. They were facing each other on a staircase at Capitol Hill. Five minutes earlier, nerves had hit and she'd snuck out of the ongoing hearing for a tiny bump before her turn to speak. But the journalist had arrived at the most incriminating moment and now everything she’d worked for felt balanced on a cliff edge.
“It's a one-off,” she said weakly.
He laughed. “Tell the papers that.”
Sofia stared. One moment of carelessness threatened to ruin everything. She’d never been the most confident speaker, and up against criminals and billionaires, she always needed something to enhance her underlying confidence. It wasn’t like she got high. She just got higher.
Footsteps approached from the stairs below and she hurriedly pulled the journalist into a nearby bathroom. The pass around his neck read Trent Coleman.
“Please, Trent. I need you to delete them.”
He looked at her. He was tall, and dark-haired. His eyes went over her speculatively, lingering on her legs. There was enough hunger in his expression to make her insides clench.
“I want to,” he conceded. “You’re a breath of fresh air here, y’know? Young and smart and on it. I like you.”
She blinked. “You do?”
“Yeah,” He was looking at her mouth. “I do. Inside out.”
“So delete them,” Sofia implored, stepping closer to him. “Please.”
His gaze dragged down her body again. His eyes darkened.
“Give me a reason,” he said and he set the camera down.
Their eyes met for a long moment. Sofia thought of all the outraged things she should say. But he could ruin her effortlessly. She reached past him and locked the bathroom door. She was unsure of her next move, but he kissed her before she could act, shoving her hard against the door. She gasped, her head spinning as his mouth explored hers.
His tongue was firm and sweeping. His hand dropped to her lower back, urging her body into his. She moaned against his lips, her thoughts a whirlwind. She should have hated him. But she could feel him growing hard and it thrilled her. She kissed him back. He groaned, shoving her harder against the door.
His hands went to her waist and he broke the kiss, spinning her around to face the door. Yanking her skirt up around her hips, he pressed down on the small of her back so she was presented to him. He stepped back and she felt him looking at her. She wanted to hide.
“You’re incredible,” he growled. He touched between her legs, pushing her lacy underwear aside to stroke her so skilfully she already felt on the edge of bliss. “You’re fucking perfection, Sofia. How can you be this perfect?”
“I’m really not,” she whispered.
His hand slapped against her pussy.
“You fucking are.”
She moaned desperately, wetter than ever. She heard his pants unzip and then he was right there, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.
He felt too big, too much, too male and urgent and yet she was taking him, taking the insistent push as his cock entered and stretched her. She moaned desperately. His hands were tight on her waist, pushing until she was full of him.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
His gripped her ass hard enough to leave marks as he started to move, thrusting in and out of her tight pussy. Sofia wanted to keep quiet but his cock felt sublime. Every last centimetre ground against her as he moved, and he kept going deeper, making her take more than she thought possible until they were fucking hard, her body moving with his helplessly.
He caught a handful of her dark hair, pulling it so he could kiss her neck. He was rough. Aggressive. He pulled almost fully out and then slammed back, knocking the air out of her. All she could do was moan. Her hand shoved down between her legs, stroking herself and it was happening too soon but it was beautiful and unstoppable and she was coming, so hard she felt like she could collapse but he held her. Then he came too, his weight against her as he shuddered, his cock jerking as he groaned.
Sofia didn’t want to move.
“You’ll delete the photos?” she finally asked.
He didn’t answer.
She turned to look at him, unease shifting the afterglow.
Trent stepped back, adjusting his clothes.
“I guess I could delete one.”
“One?” She yanked her skirt into place.
“Yeah. And we do this again and I’ll delete another, and so on. I have dozens, y’know.”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
He smiled. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to compromise. Besides, you enjoyed it, right?” He dug in his pocket. “Here’s my card, so - call me tomorrow and we’ll go from there. If you don’t, well, I have the Post on speed-dial, so -”
“You’re blackmailing me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, Sofia. Is it blackmail if you want it?” He tucked his business card into her purse and picked up his camera. “You should get going. Those bankers aren’t gonna question themselves.”
He kissed her hard enough to leave her breathless and then he left, the bathroom door thudding softly shut behind him. Sofia gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She methodically fixed her makeup. Her heart was pounding, her entire body glowing. She felt unstoppably alive and it was all because of him.
She closed her eyes and let the sweeping rush take hold. It elevated her entirely. She could hardly wait to return to the hearing. And she could hardly wait to see Trent again.
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