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I never wanted help from the Gallaghers, and thankfully, Alex and Ileah ensured they never interfered with the election. We ran a clean campaign, and won by a slim margin, with a last-minute endorsement from the Governor of Arizona. He helped us swing the state in ourfavor, to win exactly two hundred and seventy electoral votes to secure the White House.
Ileah takes to the podium, while her husband and their one-year-old daughter, Devon, remain backstage with Alex and me. We’ve tried for our own children, but even after several rounds of IVF, I wasn’t able to conceive. The stress of the campaign trail didn’t help. As soon as I’m out of the White House, we plan on trying one more time, and if it isn’t meant to be, we’ll be adopting.
For now, I make one hell of an auntie to Devon. She’s adorable, with bright green eyes and a hint of red in her otherwise light brown hair, always moving and wanting to run before she can walk—so much like her father. He keeps her on his hip as Ileah gives her speech. If it were up to me, I’d let Devon crawl around the stage. Publicity be damned.
As I’m listening, I notice a small, black toy in Devon’s hand. She’s fiddling with it, and Alex’s grip on my hip tightens, hissing my name. Devon continues playing with it, and my eyes fly wide.
“Hey, Devon, sweetie. Where did you find that? It’s mine. May I have it back?”
Her dad looks down at the toy, which isn’t a toy at all. It’s a remote to a vibrating butt plug Alex bought for us. My poor husband’s pupils are blown, and I immediately regret asking him to use it.
“I got you two presents for tonight. Thought we could havea little fun while you announce to the world that you’ll be the first Madame President.”
I open the box and burst out in laughter at the sight of a small clit vibrator, and an anal plug. “If you’re going to make me wear it, you’re using this.” I hold up the plug.
“Well, if I have the plug, keep in mind that you’re going to have something much larger up your ass later.”
“That’s fair,” I chuckle. “Okay, hurry up, we’re going to be late.”
I attempt to take the remote from Devon, but she clutches it to her chest. Her father gets a closer look, and when his eyes meet mine, a swirl of fear and humor dance in them. Based on the stories I’ve heard from Ileah after one too many glasses of wine, he likely knows precisely what this remote goes to, or at least that it is paired to an item inside someone. I’m just thankful it’s not me.
With Devon unwilling to relinquish the remote, I return to Alex, who is doing his best to remain upright, and insist, “Go to the bathroom and remove it.”
“No, I can take it,” he grits out.
“Alex, this is not the time.” I never use his real name unless I’m angry or if I’m coming—which is sometimes at the same time. The only one close enough to overhear is Ileah’s husband, who is privy to our unique situation. “If I can’t get the remote from her, it’s only going to get worse…”
If the look on his face is any indication, it absolutely got worse.
Ileah looks back at us in the alcove; we’re likely making a scene. I’m ruining this for her, so I whisper-shout to Alex, “Go.”
Thankfully, he listens and rushes off the stage. Two minutes later, he returns. “Fuck, that was a close one.”
“No more fun and games,” I huff. “You’re going to be First Gentleman.”
“The offer still stands to be your personal chair behind the Resolute desk,” he quips beside my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck. My thighs clench at the thought, heightened by his soft kiss to my shoulder. “Shall I use my own remote while you’re out there?”
“You two are worse than when my dogs are in heat,” Ileah’s husband growls. “Give me the damn remote.”
There’s a silent standoff, but Alex finally pulls it from his pocket and removes the small battery before handing it to him. He gives it to Devon, who is elated by this turn of events. “Now, go out there and be your brilliant self, princess.”
“For the record, I thought you were brilliant first,” I retort and Alex grumbles, making me laugh.
Our attention returns to Ileah as she wraps up her speech with, “She’s a bridge that brings together all Americans,” and beams, “So, it is my pleasure to introduce to youyourPresident-Elect of the United States of America, Jaclyn Taylor.”
Bonus Epilogue
ILEAH - THE GALA
Tonight was incredible. Between the beautiful decor Jaclyn coordinated, the lively music, and watching the bachelors auctioned off to women with entirely too much money, I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun at a gala.
Settled in bed with Tim fast asleep, I count the minutes until it’s 2 a.m. In thirty, my husband’s political future will be secure. The Gallaghers didn’t give me the details other than it would be solved by two this morning—the less I know, the better. Exhausted from the night, I finally close my eyes, giddy that Tim will have another term in the Senate.
Several minutes later, I’m half asleep when there’s a loud click of the door unlocking with a key card. My eyes flutter open, and I mumble to Tim, “Everything okay?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, there’s a strange gurgling sound. I sit up and turn on a light, but it doesn’t work.The alarm clock is blinking 12:00; there must been a power outage. Using the flashlight on my phone, I find Tim next to me, hand on his neck, choking on his own blood.
“Tim!” I shriek, tossing my phone aside, even if it’s the only light illuminating the room. His face is cast in shadows as my hands instinctively reach for his throat to keep him from bleeding out. I’m unable to stop the crimson syrup from spilling from him. “I’ll get help.” Before I can reach for my phone again, his watery breath ceases. “No! Stay with me, baby!”
