Romancing The President (Girl On Top) - Page 1

prologue

Larissa

january 2000

My first semester in college has been hectic, but I know what I want out of life. I worked hard and graduated high school a year early. I’m eighteen and ready for anything. It’s a long game, but I’ll get there. I’m majoring in political science and government at Marymount in Virginia, but tonight, I am letting loose for the first time ever. I’ve never done anything wrong before, but tonight I’m armed with a fake ID along with my crazy roommate, Hannah.

The Sailors and Soldiers bar in Arlington is full. A sea of different kinds of uniforms fills the room. Hannah has already selected her soldier for the night, a captain in the Army, but I am a bit pickier. I’ve never been with a man, and I don’t plan on starting tonight. The single beer I’ve had all night is already getting to me. Best laid plans always get messed up, though.

“Is this seat taken?” a deep, growly voice demands. I look up at the man and drop my beer. The now warm liquid flies everywhere, hitting us both. He’s so hot and tall. At least a foot taller than my 5’3 frame.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” I exclaim, grabbing a bunch of napkins and blotting his chest with them. His very muscular chest. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.

“No worries, darlin.’ It’s just a little beer. No harm.”

“Still. Your ribbon rack,” I say, trying to wipe the beer off it. My dad was a Marine too. I know how much his ribbons meant to him.

“I can get replacements,” he says, shrugging.

“At least let me pay for the dry cleaning,” I say.

“How about you let me buy you another drink?”

“Um… I’m not really old enough to drink,” I whisper.

“Fuck, please tell me your legal,” he says, taking the empty seat to me.

“Yes. I’m eighteen. A freshman at Marymount.”

“A good Catholic girl then?”

“Not that good, but I try to be.”

“What are you studying?”

“Politics. Do you like being a Marine?”

“I do. It’s my life’s work.”

“You aren’t that old,” I say, laughing.

“Twenty-two, but I plan on being a general someday.”

“Lifelong career path, Captain Reynolds?” I ask, glancing at his nameplate.

“Very much so. Call me Malcolm,” he says, giving me a devilish grin.

“I’m Larissa,” I reply. Somehow. My tongue feels like it weighs a thousand pounds while I simultaneously feel a pull deep in my belly and lower.

“Can I interest you in a nightcap, Larissa?”

“What does a nightcap entail?” I ask. He leans closer to me. I can feel his breath on my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“You. Me. My bed. All night.”

“That sounds like quite a nightcap.”

“I’m shipping out tomorrow night.” I almost burst out laughing because that is such a line.

“So tonight is a one-night-only thing?” I ask.

“For now, but I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again.”

“Alright. Let me tell my friend and pay my bill.”

“I’ve got your bill. Your friend is with my brother. We’ll all be having breakfast in the morning, trust me.” He gestures to the bartender, who brings over my tab. He drops a twenty and slides it back across the bar.

“Tell me, does this shipping out thing work on all the ladies?” I ask, then immediately regret it. I don’t think I want to know the answer, but it’s out there now.

“I really wouldn’t know, Larissa. Never shipped out before, but I also don’t sleep around.”

“Me either.”

Then he takes my hand and leads me out of the bar. I have to practically run to keep up with his long strides, but we are at his place in minutes.

I let him peel me out of my dress. He removes his uniform, and he’s even hotter than I thought. I let out a deep breath and take my bra and panties off.

“Jesus,” he growls before his lips are on mine.

“What?” I ask when he lets me up for air.

“You are gorgeous,” he whispers.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Captain.”

As soon as we are in his bed, he takes my virginity, but I barely notice because it feels so good. So right. He makes love to me all night long. In the morning, we exchange numbers, and I go on my way.

Little did I know, I wouldn't be leaving his apartment alone. Nine months later, our son, Chase, was born. Malcolm was off wherever he was stationed, and I was alone. I never heard from him again, so I assumed he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I did try to tell him about Chase. I had a cop friend of mine use his phone number and suss out his address. I wrote to him, so many letters. My letters went unanswered. Despite the fact that he wasn’t returning my letters, I still wrote him. Every week for twenty years. I told him what his son did that week, including pictures. I wanted him to know what he was missing out on. It was cathartic. When Chase went to college and I ran out of things to tell him about him, I told him about me. One thousand sixty letters and not a single reply. Not a leave me alone. Nothing. He ghosted me and I can’t let it go. I still can’t. To this day, I still write to him. I fell in love with a man who doesn’t want me and probably never really did and I can’t let him go. That’s the very definition of insanity. I was never able to compartmentalize it as a one-night stand, as he surely did. I never dated another man nor slept with another man. I couldn’t. No other man was Malcolm.

Tags: M.K. Moore Erotic
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