Misadventures of the First Daughter (Misadventures Book 5) Read online

  “Parker? Do you read me?”

  Zane releases me slowly and steps back. When I turn, he places a finger over his lips. He brings his arm up to his mouth, presses something on the cuff of his shirtsleeve, and speaks into a concealed microphone.

  “This is Parker. Can you repeat?”

  Fuck my life.

  Feeling defeated and too exposed, I tug my dress back into place. When I glance back up, Zane’s slate gray eyes are locked on me. Just like that, he’s back to the Zane I know. Cold. Emotionless. Pissed off.

  “Roger that,” he says. “The First Daughter and I are en route now.”

  He drops his arm back to his side and begins to button his shirt. “Hurry up and change out of that outfit. Your parents want to see you.”

  ZANE

  She’s the President’s daughter, for fuck’s sake.

  What the hell are you thinking? Get your dick under control and focus on the job. I silently scold myself as I follow Charlotte down the long corridor that leads to the sitting room in the central residence. But I can’t seem to stop thinking vividly inappropriate thoughts. I can still taste her pussy on my tongue. I can envision exactly where I planned to shove my cock into her willing body. She walks ahead of me in snug jeans and a loose top that falls off one shoulder. Every simple movement tempts me. I’ve only just begun to discover the treasures of her incredible body.

  Guarding the First Daughter on the evening shift has put my extracurricular activities on quite a long hiatus. I can’t remember the last time I stepped foot in Crave, the underground sex club where Dominants like myself can keep their needs satisfied and in check. Tomorrow will be the first night I’ve had off in almost three months, and I’ve never needed it more.

  Things with Charlotte have gone way too far. Once I’m at the club, I’ll dedicate every possible second to unleashing this pent-up frustration on a willing submissive. Someone who won’t cost me my job and my sanity.

  I take in a deep breath. I can practically feel the braided crop in my hand already. But the thought doesn’t settle me as much as it should, because the vision my mind conjures includes Charlotte, bent and breathless, welted pink and begging for my cock like she was moments ago.

  I’m so royally fucked. I exhale shakily.

  Another agent greets us as we approach the sitting room door. He nods in my direction before turning his attention to Charlotte.

  “Good evening, Ms. Daley. Your parents are waiting for you inside.”

  Charlotte gives him a practiced smile. “Thank you.”

  I step around her and open the door to the sitting room, noticing her body tense as she steps over the threshold. Once she is inside, I reach for the door handle, meeting the President’s eyes as I start to shut the door.

  “I’ll be just outside if you need me, sir.”

  He lifts his hand to stop me. “Actually, I’d like for you to stay, Parker. This conversation pertains to you as well.”

  I freeze. Me? What can I possibly have to do with any of this?

  I give him a hesitant nod and take my normal stance behind the chair Charlotte claims. Even from this vantage, I can sense her discomfort. Her fists are tight, and she taps her foot nervously on the floor.

  From a nearby chair, Charlotte’s mother is directing a hard stare at her. Her startling blue eyes are the only thing she and her daughter have in common. The First Lady strums her fingers along the side of her crystal tumbler, arrowing those icy blues on Charlotte.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Charlotte, sit up straight.”

  Charlotte immediately stiffens in her chair. “Sorry, Mother.”

  I cringe at her apology. I swear, I don’t understand her parents. Granted, they’re currently mired in non-stop political ambition, but I’ve never gotten the sense that they’ve ever cared about their daughter more than politics. As much as they criticize Charlotte, it isn’t any wonder the poor girl acts out like she does.

  “What kind of outfit is this? Honestly, Charlotte, do you thrive on being an embarrassment to me?”

  I bite down on the inside of my mouth, fighting the urge to say something in her defense. Victoria Daley is much more than the First Lady. Bold and demanding, she uses her power and title to intimidate everyone around her. Those tactics don’t work on me. I’ll protect her daughter, at all costs, but thankfully I’m not one of the puppets she gets to order around. She has plenty of those running around at her beck and call already.

  “Give it a rest, Victoria.” The President turns his attention back to his daughter. I wait for his eyes to soften, the way a father’s should when he looks at his daughter, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, they remain as cold and vacant as the day he hired me to work for his family. “Your mother and I have some important news to discuss with you.”

  Charlotte scoots to the edge of the chair. “What news?”

  “I just got off the phone with the President of Georgetown University. It took calling in some favors, but I’ve gotten them to speed through your admission into their pre-law program.”

  She flies to her feet. “What? You can’t do that! There’s no way I’m leaving NYU!”

  “Sit. Down. Now,” the President utters through gritted teeth.

  Charlotte pauses a second, then eases back down in her chair. “Please, you can’t do this to me. I’m supposed to intern at the Metropolitan Museum this spring. I can’t give up that opportunity. I am the youngest art history major to ever earn that internship.”

  He lets out a chuckle. “You didn’t earn that internship. They only gave it to you because your family is sitting in the White House. Besides, you’ve fooled around in New York long enough. You’re twenty, Charlotte. Now is a good time to transfer and get serious. I think we can all agree that a reputable degree in law is preferred over a degree in finger painting.”

  She tightens her fists until her knuckles are a bloodless white. “Art is a reputable degree. It’s the career I’ve been working toward for almost two years.”

  The President narrows his eyes. Charlotte visibly sinks down into her chair.

  “This isn’t up for discussion. The arrangements have already been made. Your mother and I have secured you a very nice apartment downtown at View 17.”

  I nearly choke at his words. View 17 is my apartment building. The President must know this. I school my features, meeting his eyes as he resumes speaking.

  “Agent Parker currently resides in that building. I’ll feel much better knowing he is close by to keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m not a five-year-old. I don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me.”

  “Like it or not, Charlotte, you’re part of the First Family now, and with that comes certain expectations. I will not tolerate your disobedience or your ungrateful behavior. You are my daughter. And you will act accordingly.” The President’s tone leaves no doubt.

  Only when Charlotte stands and bolts from the room do I notice the tears streaming down her face. I was uncomfortable before. Now anger bubbles under my cool exterior at seeing her so upset. I start to follow behind her when the President speaks.

  “I’d like to have a word with you, Parker.” He turns to his wife. “Victoria, will you excuse us?”

  She stands and straightens her dress, lifting her chin up in an aristocratic manner. “Fine, but remember, we’re supposed to have dinner with the Petersons in an hour.”

  “Yes, I remember. This won’t take long.”

  She nods and then glides out of the room as if she owns it.

  The President walks to the antique bar across the room and pours himself a drink.

  “How are things going with Charlotte?”

  “Things are fine, sir.” I keep my voice even and calm.

  The side of his mouth lifts. “You don’t have to sugarcoat things, son. I know my daughter’s a handful. I’m quite sure she keeps you and Chester on your toes.”

  “We manage fine, sir.”

  Nodding, he nestles the decorative crystal top back into
the decanter. “Yes, you’ve both been doing a remarkable job of keeping her out of trouble. Especially you, having to deal with her evening engagements. Don’t get me wrong, Chester is a fantastic agent, but he has a soft spot for Charlotte. I’m guessing that’s the father in him.” He takes a sip of his expensive brand of bourbon, studying me hard before continuing. “You, however, bring a different element to the job. You’re young. Twenty-five, correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Whether you know it or not, that’s one of the reasons I insisted you be assigned to my daughter. Your youth gives you an advantage over most of the other agents. You know what kids her age are thinking, which gives you the ability to stay one step ahead of her without her knowing it. That, of course, is why we secured her an apartment in your building.”

  He pauses to take another drink.

  “As you know, this is a crucial time for me in office. All eyes are on me. I simply can’t risk anything hurting my approval rating.” He raises his eyebrow. “I trust that you understand what I’m getting at?”

  Sure, I do. You want me to become your daughter’s twenty-four-hour babysitter.

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “Very good.” Turning up the glass, he finishes off his drink and motions with his hand. “That’s all. Tell Martin outside that Mrs. Daley and I will be leaving soon.”

  “Yes, sir.” I leave, and, after relaying the President’s message, I start in the direction of Charlotte’s room. Agitation drives my quick steps. I can’t believe they are moving her into my building. When I’m off the clock, I’m off the clock. Am I not entitled to have a life away from this job?

  Just when I round the final corner, I am met with an agonizing sound. Charlotte is crying. Even from outside her room, there’s no denying her misery.

  Fuck.

  I can’t deal with this right now. Crying never solves anything. Why doesn’t she get that by now? Why can’t she be angry instead? I can relate to anger. I can teach her how to harness it…to control it in ways that will bring her immense pleasure. Suddenly, the thought of her naked body bound and gagged flashes before my eyes. I can visualize the thin leather strips of my flogger slapping against her full, perky tits. I can see the delectable pink lines forming across her flawless skin.

  I ignore the stirring in my groin and resume my normal post beside her door. I focus hard on the revolting floral wallpaper pattern across from me—anything for a distraction when all I want to do is barge through her door and pick up where we left off.

  I’m hired to protect her, not comfort her. It’s not my job nor my nature to feel compassion for her right now, yet I do. Punishing her and turning her into my personal plaything and hopefully a better-behaved First Daughter isn’t my job either, yet that’s precisely what every cell of my body yearns for.

  The longer I stand here listening to her cry, the harder it becomes to ignore those desires.

  Turning to face the door, I raise my hand to knock.

  I hesitate.

  What is it about Charlotte Daley that makes me care so damn much? Before I make the mistake of finding out, I drop my hand back to my side. She’s sucking in jagged breaths between her sobs, and my gut clenches.

  I return to my designated position next to the door, feeling like the worst human being on the planet.

  CHARLOTTE

  Chester frowns at me through the rearview mirror of the SUV.

  “I don’t know about this, Charley. Your father wouldn’t approve of me not going in to check things out.”

  I scoot forward and put my hand on the back of his shoulder. “Oh, come on, Chester. Kat and I are just going to hang out and watch scary movies all night. How much trouble can we possibly get into doing that?”

  “Don’t bat your eyes at me, Charley Girl.” He tries to sound stern, but the smile tugging at his lips gives him away.

  Is it strange that I am closer to a Secret Service officer than my own father? Maybe because Chester cares about me beyond his job. At least I believe he does. Since coming to work for our family, he has found a special place in my heart. He always knows what to say or do to make me feel better on my worst days. Of course, being the father of two grown daughters certainly helps with that. He knows what classes I’ve taken. He knows who my favorite artist is. Hell, he even knows my favorite Starbucks drink. My father is too engrossed running the country to ever care to know any of those things about me. He’s a stranger to me in so many ways. I can’t remember a day that Chester felt like a stranger to me.

  “Please,” I beg in my sweetest voice. “I need girl time, and it’s embarrassing always having someone following me around. Can’t I just hang out with a friend in her own house for once?”

  His face visibly softens. “Okay, fine. But I’m not leaving. I’ll just keep Lewis company in the guard shack. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  Throwing my hands around his neck, I place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best, Chester.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off. “Go, before I change my mind.”

  Grabbing my bag, I throw open the back door and head up the paved walkway of Katherine Harrison’s house. Kat’s dad is a wealthy DC lawyer who my father appointed as the new Attorney General. During this last year on the campaign trail, we have grown close. Unlike the rest of the DC Brat Club, she’s more interested in having fun than being seen with important people and being written about in gossip columns. Kat is bold and unapologetic. And, in my very boring, controlled world, she is a dangerous fresh breath of air.

  I give a reassuring smile back at Chester in the idling black SUV and press the doorbell. Cathedral chimes echo through the house. Kat answers the front door with a large grin, but frowns when she looks over my shoulder.

  “Where’s Captain Control Freak?”

  I smile at her use of the nickname we’d given Zane and step inside. “He’s off for the night. Chester is taking his post at the gate with your security guy.”

  “Oh.” She shuts the door behind me, her shoulders slumping.

  I chuckle. “Well, I’m so sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Oh, shut it. You know I love you. I won’t lie, though. I was kinda hoping to see Zane.” She puts her back against the door and makes a swoony wistful sound. “I swear that man looks like perfect sin in a suit.”

  I let out a fake yawn and shrug. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

  I never liked the way Kat talked about Zane. Now I can barely contain my irritation. I shouldn’t care, but after last night’s dizzying almost-fuck and Zane’s swift mood shift, I have no idea where things stand between us. Does he really want me, or am I just some stupid mistake that he regrets making? The fact he’s off duty tonight makes me think the latter.

  “Well, we can’t stay here tonight. We have to celebrate your freedom. There’s this great club downtown that you have got to see to believe.”

  I cross my arms and cock my head. “And exactly how are we supposed to get past the two guards at the gate?”

  Kat steps forward and places her hands on my shoulders. “Oh, my poor sheltered friend. You really have so much to learn. They make back doors to houses for a reason, you know?” She tips her chin up. “Come on upstairs, and I’ll get you all fixed up. I’ve got a killer red dress for you to wear. Men will be falling at your feet tonight. I guarantee it.”

  Forcing a smile, I place my hand on the banister and follow her up the stairs. Kat doesn’t know it, but there is only one man I really want to bring to his knees. Still, the ripped Secret Service agent I’ve been fantasizing about for months isn’t the only man in the world. Maybe tonight, I’ll try to make myself believe that.

  Stepping out of the cab, I glance up at the abandoned-looking building. “Wait a minute. I thought you said we were going to a club.”

  The sides of Kat’s mouth lift. “We are. Come on.”

  She motions for me to follow her, but I hesitate when I see her take the steps that lead down below t
he ground.

  “Hurry up, before someone sees you.”

  Reluctantly, I follow. “Where are you taking me? This is seriously like a scene out of some slasher movie. Someone’s going to end up finding our rotting, dismembered bodies in a dumpster somewhere.”

  Kat bursts out laughing at the bottom of the stairs. “All right, Ms. Overdramatic. Get your ass down here.” She stops on a landing in front of a metal door. It’s so rusty, I’m certain we’ll need a tetanus shot just from looking at it.

  Then I notice the high-tech scanner that is attached to the wall beside the door. Before I can ask Kat how we’re going to get in without access cards, she is sliding a shiny black card through the slot. The red indicator light flashes to green and I hear the loud click of the lock as it releases.

  She places her hand on the handle and turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Keep an open mind, okay?”

  An open mind? Great. This ought to be good.

  I follow behind Kat, preparing to be horrified. The instant I step through the doorway, I am rendered speechless. Layers of gathered black satin cover the massive walls of the club from floor to ceiling. Luxurious white leather furniture fills the downstairs lounge, located just to the right of the bar area. Sleek, modern stainless steel stools line the front of a long mahogany bar with intricate designs carved across its front. A flicker of light catches my attention. Above us hangs a massive chandelier, its dangling crystals reflecting flecks of dark red and purple on the walls. No doubt about it, this posh club is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. But why is a place like this hidden underground behind a seedy entrance? It just doesn’t make sense.

  “What is this place?” My gaze lands on a group of girls standing in front of us. “And why is everyone wearing red?”

  Giving me a wicked smile, Kat grabs me by the wrist and pulls me through the crowd. “You’ll see.”

  ZANE

  The alluring smell of leather and sex permeates the air. I take a deep breath, savoring the erotic aromas as they invade my nostrils, bringing with them desire and plenty of satisfying memories.