Commander Page 8

  I licked my kiss-swollen lips. “Ashur, stop.”

  He crowded me against the granite. He gripped my hips and pulled me against him, letting his thick hot cock burn me through the back of my dress. Leaning down, he grazed his stubble against the side of my neck, and without thought, I closed my eyes and tilted my head.

  His hand crept up my abdomen, sending butterflies into my stomach, and then stopped under the swell of my breasts. A finger traced my puckered nipple through my dress, and a moan escaped my lips.

  “Do you really want me to stop, Tara?” He pinched the sensitive bud. “Or do you want me to pull your dress up and fuck you for a second time?”

  “I… I can’t think.”

  “That’s the point.”

  The air conditioner kicked on, filling the room with cool air and breaking the spell he had me under.

  “I have to change.” I shifted, slipping from his hold, and walked into the closet.

  I stared at racks of clothes, but my mind felt so unfocused that I couldn’t figure out what I had to do. This man had me all turned upside down.

  Bracing my hand against a wall, I closed my eyes. After a few moments, my brain cells began to fire and I was no longer in a desire-drowned daze. As I turned, I found Ashur watching me with a look that had me taking a step back.

  He didn’t move, just leaned against the door frame in his naked glory.

  “It’s only going to get worse.”

  “What is?”

  “The need. I know it will for me.”

  “You’ll just have to resist.”

  “Why would I do that? Know this, Tara. Now that I’ve had you, I’m going to want you every chance I get. If you aren’t pregnant by the end of the year, it will be a miracle. And even then, when you’re swollen with our child, I’ll want to fuck you. I’ve waited years to have you. You’re mine and I’m never letting you go.”

  Ten minutes later, Ashur and I walked out of the master suite. He held my hand in his, running his thumb back and forth over mine.

  We’d dressed in silence after he’d made his statement. I wasn’t expecting how intense it felt to be with him again. Now I craved more. More than I should ever want. And instead of being annoyed by his possessiveness, I longed to belong to him.

  I knew it could never truly happen with all my secrets between us, not to mention the contract.

  I should have known better than to enter into a business agreement with a man I’d loved. Now it was too late.

  All of a sudden, Ashur stopped, cupped my face, and said, “Breathe, baby.”

  I stared at him in confusion.

  “You’re trying to make sense of what you’re feeling. Believe me, I get it.”

  “I…”

  He kissed me, silencing my words. “We have a lifetime to figure this out. Let’s focus on our friends and family. They’re waiting for us.”

  I nodded my agreement. We weren’t going to solve this emotional roller coaster anytime soon.

  “Plus, I have a bet with Veer to see who will be the first person to leave the room when they can’t handle Papa’s antics.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “My money is on Samina or me.”

  He tilted my face up so I could gaze in his amber depths. “No, love, you have more tolerance than you should with the man. You got that trait from your mom. All my money is on Samina. I think Papa’s presence incites violence in her.”

  I had to give him that one. Sam was so controlled in every situation except when it came to her father. And Minesh Kumar had a knack for pushing her buttons. “I’ll say she’ll crack within the first ten minutes.”

  “I counter that it’ll be less than five.”

  “Is that a bet?” I laughed.

  He ran a finger up from the base of my throat to my lips as a wicked glint entered his eyes. “Absolutely.”

  “The stakes?”

  “Winner’s choice. As long as it’s something sexual.”

  Immediately arousal shot through me. Shit, this man could say one thing and I got wet.

  “Deal.” I offered him my hand.

  Chapter Ten

  “Breathe, Tara,” I whispered to myself as my heavily embroidered bridal dupatta was set on my head.

  One hour and counting. One hour until I’d take on my role as first lady. One hour until I’d officially become Ashur’s wife and have the funds to buy Ameera back.

  My stomach clenched. Exactly at noon today, my net worth would become a hundred times greater.

  I wasn’t a pauper but any means. The money I’d amassed over the years through my law practice and my work for Solon would make it so I could live a fabulous life without working another single day for the rest of my life. But all my money wasn’t enough to qualify to bid for Ameera in the auction. And even though Solon had more money than anyone could imagine, there was no way the organization could enter the auction without revealing itself. The only way they could help was by manipulating technology and providing manpower when an operation was activated. Solon’s board constantly monitored any leads or rumors on her whereabouts. The second they received credible news Ameera, they’d deploy my team. The auction and the endless coordination was actually our contingency plan.

  A wave of guilt hit me. What was Ameera doing at this moment, while I was covered in a million dollars of jewelry, getting ready to marry a man for his billions?

  God, I’d fallen so far from the girl with dreams of white picket fences. Instead of marrying for love as I’d always imagined, I was using Ashur for money. Yes, he was the one who offered, and the sex was an added bonus, but when it came down to it, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if it wasn’t for his money.

  I’d become the whore who only wanted Ashur for his bank account as Minesh Kumar had accused me of when I was eighteen.

  “Ms. Zain, you’re all set. Your bridesmaids will be here momentarily,” my wedding stylist said as she clasped the last pin into my dupatta. “Want another bottle of water?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks for making my vision come to life.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Dara gave me a beaming smile. “I’m honored Ms. Neya chose me to be your wedding attendant.”

  “Maybe I can convince her to lend you to me for all my events.”

  “I would love that.” She checked her watch. “My ride will arrive in a few minutes. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I think a few moments to calm the nerves is all I need.”

  “I never expected you to suffer from a case of anxiety. You’re always so poised.”

  I almost snorted but kept it inside. It wouldn’t have been ladylike to make bodily sounds.

  “Don’t tell me you bought into the ice-for-a-heart crap the media like to say.”

  “No. I’ve worked for Neya for years and she would never design anything for someone she couldn’t stand.” She smiled. “Plus, I’ve seen the way you and Mr. Kumar look at each other when you think no one is watching. There is nothing cold about the fire burning between you two.”

  My cheeks heated and my body tingled remembering how hard Ashur had fucked me yesterday.

  Before I could respond, she spoke again. “You soften him. When he was running, many of us wondered if we could vote for a man who kept such a tight rein on his emotions. To go from a president who was ruled by temper and volatility to one that was so cold that it didn’t bother him when people referred to him as an asshole was a hard pill to swallow.”

  “He was never an asshole. There are just things in his past that make him cautious.”

  Like what happened when we were kids, and then of course everything he’d experienced during his three tours in the Air Force.

  A throat cleared, and we both turned in Casey’s direction.

  “Your bridesmaids are on their way up, and Ms. Dara’s car has arrived.”

  We said a quick goodbye as Dara gather her belongings and then exited with Casey behind her.


  Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention back to my reflection in the mirror in front of the dressing table.

  My long black hair was curled in large ringlets and fastened under my dupatta. My face had a natural glow that wasn’t natural at all. My makeup artist, Walter, had told me the idea was to look like I woke up gorgeous, even when my real face was hiding somewhere underneath five layers of makeup. The one thing I had wanted over the top was my eyes. I loved the artistry of doing intricate eye makeup, so I’d asked Walter to match the colors of my gown. And he hadn’t disappointed.

  Yes, it wasn’t demure as was expected of the first lady, but I couldn’t care less. My wedding day, my way.

  With the combination of Neya’s amazing wedding outfit, Dara’s hair expertise, and Walter’s makeup magic, I looked like I was walking off the pages of a Bollywood wedding magazine.

  The only thing missing was a debonair groom. And I’d be meeting him in… I glanced at the clock. In forty-nine minutes.

  After Ashur had fucked my brains out almost a day ago, we hadn’t seen or spoken to each other. He’d been called into an important meeting within minutes of entering the wedding party meeting. Whatever had happened had consumed all of his time for the rest of the day.

  His absence had left me to man the family, friends, and guests. Minesh’s disposition hadn’t improved in the slightest, and so for the most part, everyone pretended to ignore his antics.

  And true to Ashur’s prediction, Samina lasted all of three minutes before she walked out of the meeting room for a shot of tequila. I guess I owed Ashur a debt now.

  The thing that sucked the most was to attend our rehearsal dinner with a big chunk of my wedding party missing. That’s what had happened when all my closest friends had decided to enter the political world.

  Whatever had gone down must have been major. I’d almost given in to the urge to call in a few of my contacts in Solon to get the details, but restrained myself. Any snooping outside of Ameera’s case would undermine Tyler. The second I got nosy was the second I’d convey I didn’t have confidence in Tyler’s ability to handle his role as director. Solon had never had a director who held a high-level government position until Tyler, and because of this, he had to walk a very tight rope between the two roles.

  My phone rang, and I grabbed it from the counter. My stomach flipped when I saw who the caller was.

  “Hello, Mr. President.”

  “Hello, First Lady.”

  The possessive way he said those words had a shiver going down my spine.

  Why did it feel so good to hear his voice?

  Maybe because you haven’t gone more than half a day without talking to him in the last eighteen months.

  “I’m sorry I left you to the family yesterday.”

  “I’ll think of some way for you to make it up to me.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “Ash, is everything okay?”

  He blew out a deep breath. “Not really but there’s nothing I can do.”

  I wanted to ask him to elaborate but knew he couldn’t tell me. Was this what other political wives felt?

  I was as nosy as they came and not knowing the nitty gritty of a situation only piqued my curiosity more.

  How does one go from being the boss to the woman behind the man? I understood that I couldn’t handle missions anymore, but I couldn’t even practice law. I was a kickass lawyer, but no one would see that now that I’d be Ashur’s wife.

  Snap out of it, Tara. Stop thinking about your change in circumstances and focus on being there for the man who seems more stressed than he should be on his wedding day.

  “We can stay in Washington so you can handle whatever crisis is going on. I won’t be upset if we have to cancel our honeymoon.”

  “God, no. It’s the only thing keeping this day on the right track. I want a few days alone with you where I’m not the president. I just want to be a man spending time with his wife. Will you let me be your husband? Will you for a few days pretend there are no bargains or financial gains? That there is no contract stipulating a baby? That you and I are a couple who are completely into each other?”

  I swallowed. Dear God. What could have happened? Ashur never sounded so vulnerable. It was as if he was resigned to a complete and inevitable fallout.

  “Whatever’s going on, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Mr. President.”

  He released another sigh, then said, “Fuck. I just messed up my hair. That battle ax in charge of my attire is going to kick my ass.”

  “Ashu, I can’t believe you’re afraid of Neya. She barely comes to your shoulder.”

  When Neya had said she would make sure Ashur was dressed the way a president should dress for his wedding, I’d almost felt sorry for Ashur. Neya was the epitome of tiny but mighty. No one got in the way of her fashion sense, even a six-foot-three president.

  “I’m afraid of you, and you’re shorter than her.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered.

  “Besides, I know things about her the average Joe would never know.”

  “Like what?”

  All the fine hairs on my arm prickled. He couldn’t know she worked for Solon.

  “The same thing you’re hiding.”

  “And that is?” I probed.

  “That both of you are fifth-degree black belts in jujitsu.”

  Relief washed over me.

  “Who told you?”

  “I have my sources.”

  There was only one person who would threaten the president without fear of consequences. And she was the one who promised retribution for the exhausting night we’d had last night.

  “Sam told you. That girl was planning painful ways to make you pay last night.”

  Ashur laughed. “Yes. She actually threatened that Neya would literally kick my ass with her mad skills if I left her alone with Papa ever again.”

  “Samina and I were thinking along the same lines. But it wasn’t Neya who I envisioned kicking your ass, it was me.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Absolutely. Name the time and place.”

  He chuckled and I knew the little fun banter had eased whatever tension that was weighing on his shoulders.

  “The last thing I plan to do on my honeymoon is fight with my wife. My goal is to fuck her senseless.”

  His words brought forth all the dirty, naked fantasies I’d harbored for Ashur over the past fifteen years.

  “Umm…okay.” I licked my lips.

  Images of him pounding into me flashed in my mind.

  Dammit, Tara. You’re supposed to counsel him, not think about fucking him.

  I had to get myself on sane ground if I was going to make it through the wedding reception.

  “I have an idea.”

  “The answer is no.”

  “But you haven’t even heard my suggestion.”

  “Ashur, I know what you’re thinking, and no, we can’t skip our own wedding.”

  “How did you figure those were my thoughts?”

  “Because I remember what you were like after we slept together when we were younger. You wanted to skip every gathering, party, or event to get laid. I know you.”

  “You’re probably the only person who does.”

  His tone had changed back to the worried one.

  I guessed it didn’t matter that it was the president’s wedding day—he still had a twenty-four/seven job to do.

  “Ash, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “There are things I can’t discuss with you, but it means a lot that you care enough to ask.”

  There was a touch of longing to his response that made my heart contract.

  “I understand.” Probably more than he realized.

  I had so many secrets that I wasn’t sure how Ashur would react once he found all of them out. I wanted to believe he’d stand by me and fight for me if he ever learned what I was or had done, but there was always something in the back of my mind making me think I
couldn’t depend on him.

  “Tara?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think we can ever get back to what we lost when we were young?”

  Why was he saying this when he was the one who wanted an iron-clad agreement stating where he stood on our relationship?

  “Ashur, I don’t know what you want me to say. I have no idea what will happen between us. There’s a lot of history. I’m not that girl anymore and neither are you the boy I knew.”

  “I just wish sometimes that I’d questioned all the shit Papa had said about you. I wish I’d fought for us a little more.”

  “I wished that for a long time too. But we can’t change the past, Ash. All we can do is not fall into the same traps again.”

  “I suppose.”

  What the hell was going on that he sounded so vulnerable? Where was the man that took no shit from anyone? The one who scared the crap out of friend and foe alike?

  I wanted to reach through the phone and tell him it would be okay, even though I knew I couldn’t do it.

  “We can have a happy life together. Everything else we’ll figure out as we go.”

  He remained quiet for a moment, then spoke. “I want to tear the contract up. I want it to be the way we were before all the shit Papa put us through. I want you to love me the way you did when you were eighteen. I want it about to be about us, not the election or the money I promised you.”

  Oh God. I couldn’t do this right now.

  Dammit Ashur, why now? Why not two years ago?

  “Ash, we can’t go back in time. Our reality is that we have an agreement.”

  “I know. I’m telling you what I thought. I’d understand your hesitation after what I’d said when we signed the contract. I shouldn’t have told you it was only ever going to be business with a side of sex. I was an asshole. I must be more like him than I believed.”

  “You’re not an asshole. And you’re nothing like him.”

  “I am.”

  I could hear Neya saying something, and I knew Ash was in trouble.