The Thorne at My Side

CHAPTER 16

Small Venn Diagram

MAGGIE

The debate is in an hour and I've sweat through my body suit. Needless to say, I'm nervous. This is the senator's first national debate since the primaries at the beginning of the year and it is the very first time we're relying on AI Media.

I hate to admit that the practice questions we went through last week went well. The AI Media content sounded like the senator's voice and was tailored to the audience. We're on a college campus and while the audience will mostly be filled with pundits and wannabe politicians, we insisted on at least 25% of the audience being students.

The senator does well with younger voters.

She’s the younger candidate, the cooler one. She’s energized a new set of voters who were disengaged in prior elections. But the race is still tight in the battleground states. When I remember how high the stakes are my eye twitches.

Austin and I haven't had sex since last week. I blame myself. I haven't asked for it. But after I complimented his sexual abilities, I couldn’t seem to get myself to text. The man gave me not one, but two orgasms with me on my back, and my brain has been foggy ever since .

Then when he walked into the office two days later he looked so freaking good that I could hardly handle it. I avoided eye contact or responding to him directly. I passed questions or comments off to Sam and she definitely noticed something was up but hasn't said a word.

I can tell that's about to change.

"So, last week it was clear that you were getting your needs met and that it was helping you chill out. Now?" She points at the line of boob sweat that is only growing with her attention on it, "Why aren't you using your stress reduction methods?"

I shove her hand to the side and reach for my blazer. The idea of putting more clothes on my sweating body makes me nauseous but it'll help to cover up the sweat stains. "I haven't had the time."

"Well make the time because you're making me nervous and I live for live television."

I laugh because it's true. Sam was born to be in the spotlight. I probably should have her do the podcast and news show appearances from now on.

"Okay, we're ready for the senator," a production assistant with a headset says to me and I nod at Sam.

"Showtime!" Sam accentuates with jazz hands as she walks towards the classroom down the hall that is serving as a green room.

I take one last look at the printed notes the senator will use and then find myself pacing two steps in one direction and two steps back.

"Chill out! It looks like you're about to go on stage. You're green!" A production assistant tells me like we’re friends. Not necessary right now, random person, but thanks. I force a smile wave her off but instead I freeze because behind her I see Austin and the nauseous feeling returns.

What is he doing here?

My body stiffens and a welcome chill runs through me.

"Maggie," he says in greeting as he comes up beside me. We’re both looking out at the stage and the three inches between our shoulders is thick with tension.

Can he feel it too?

"Austin," I reply and it's a mix of disdain and relief and I don't like that I find his presence comforting.

He checks his watch and I focus on the many veins in his hand and the slight dusting of hair on his arm as he lifts his sleeve out of the way. "It's a little less than 12 hours but maybe we can agree to a travel addendum to the rules."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I want you to come to my room tonight."

"Oh," I whisper and icicles fall down my spine. "Um, okay."

"Everything should be wrapped up by 11:00." He says as he slides a key card into my hand. I wrap my fingers around it and hold tight. "Room 1201."

And with that he steps backwards and turns away from me. My breath leaves my lungs with force because the promise of a night with Austin has already settled my nerves. When the senator crosses past me to the stage she gives me a curt nod. Sam gives me a thumbs up and heads out of the auditorium. She’s headed to watch the debate from the spin room at the hotel. I stay in the wings so we can regroup during commercial breaks.

We have a full team of people ready to respond to the media during and after the debate. I have spent the last three days prepping all of them and getting them to practice certain lines. We need them to be confident and strong.

They need to spin anything negative and reinforce everything positive.

My palms start sweating more as the importance of tonight hits me again and when my fingers slide against the keycard I'm gripping, I quickly push it into the pocket of my pants and turn to find a glass of water.

◆◆◆

"And the senator's response to the prison reform question was another departure from her normal stance, care to elaborate?"

My pen taps out a furious pace against my notebook as I stand off to the side of this interview. Sam is doing great but the reporter has picked up on the face that some answers were different tonight. Sam and I know it was the AI Media written responses but we can’t say that on the record.

The AIM team told us they would be factoring in real-time opinion data from a select set of voters but I did not expect it to alter her positions.

"While slightly different from what Senator Quinn has been saying on the campaign trail, I see her response tonight as an evolution. She's learned new information, had more conversations, and has decided to deepen her understanding of the issue."

"By calling for reduced sentences?"

"That is just part of a comprehensive plan aimed at addressing systemic issues for incarceration."

When Sam slices her hand through the air below the seat of the chair she’s in with a "cut it off" motion I jump to action. I turn to the producer standing next to the camera man.

"She has time for one more question. "

He checks his watch and gives me an inquisitive look. "I thought we had five minutes, it's only been three."

"Well since your reporter is trying to do everything to catch her out I think three minutes is plenty."

"Fine, one more question," he says begrudgingly before tapping the side of his headset to tell the anchor it's time to wrap up.

When the camera's light turns off, Sam unclips her microphone and shakes hands with the anchor.

"That went quickly!" She says cheerfully as she joins me. "It felt like only a few minutes."

"I cut it short after you motioned to me."

"Oh!" She laughs, "no, I meant for you to knock off your pen tapping, it was like standing next to a jackhammer."

"Oh," I bite my lip, "sorry."

"No worries, how's the senator doing?"

"Fine, she's going back to the hotel, I don't want her taking any questions."

"Good plan, any updates from the watch data or polls?"

"Not yet," I sigh and check the time on my phone. It's not even 8:00 pm local time. Since we're on the west coast the debate started early and I've got a lot of time to kill until meeting Austin in his room.

"Wanna grab some dinner? I'm starving." Sam says as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

"Sure, just in the hotel bar?"

"That works for me."

On our walk over to the bar Sam is buzzing with energy. She's chatting and hypothesizing about results and checking her phone for official data all at once. We get a seat at the bar and order drinks and a few appetizers to share.

"So," Sam starts as she swings her barstool around to survey the rest of the room. "Think we can find some ass tonight?"

I cough on my drink and bring the cocktail napkin up to my chin to catch the dribble. "I'm not looking for ass in the hotel bar."

She turns to me with big, cartoon princess eyes, "Why not? Haven’t we covered the importance of stress relief at times like these?"

“We have. I just don’t need to find it tonight.”

“So you already have a source?”

"Can't say," I respond over a sip of my drink.

"Can't like he doesn't exist yet, or won't because you're trying to be smug about already scoring a hook up for tonight? If that’s the case, I’m impressed with your forward planning with Austin back in D.C.."

I shrug and swivel towards the bartender who is clearly listening to our conversation. I give him a full once over because I can appreciate the finer points of the male form but his wink does nothing for me.

Not when I know what Austin can do.

"Alright Maggie, who are you booty calling tonight?" Sam asks, drawing my attention back to her.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Bet I can figure it out.” Sam says smugly as she drops a handful of bar mix into her mouth. "You can't keep a straight face when lying so I'll know even if you deny it."

I just laugh at her, at myself, and fish out a sesame stick.

"The bartender?"

"No."

"That producer from the last interview? He was hot."

"No."

"Ooh, a tinder swipe that you booked as soon as we landed and your location updated?"

"No."

"Hmm, you're right, it wouldn't be a stranger. You're too careful about who you hook up with." I don't deny it so she keeps going. "It probably would be someone you know, but not someone you work with because that's a line you wouldn't cross."

She's watching me as she tries to suss this out so I just shrug in response.

"I'm getting closer." She drums her nails along the side of her glass. "Who is someone we know, that is out here for the debate, but not someone you work with?"

"That seems like a pretty small venn diagram of candidates." I mutter as I cut up the flatbread that was just set down in front of us.

"Holy shit, it’s Austin Thorne."

"What?" I cough because I didn’t know he was in Arizona until minutes before the debate, how would Sam know? In fact, she doesn’t, she just told me he was back in D.C.. Austin wasn’t in the spin room when we got there. He didn’t stay backstage. In fact, if I didn’t have his room key in my pocket I might think I imagined him being here. When I look up at Sam, she's staring off past my shoulder. I slowly turn around and see what she's mesmerized by.

Austin Thorne is waiting by the elevators in gray athletic shorts and a navy blue tee that is like a second skin so we can see his incredibly fit torso.

“Is that a yoga mat?” Sam asks.

"He does yoga." I tell her, matter of factly.

"Down dog," Sam says in a way that makes it sound sexual. I turn to her and we both giggle a little like freshman spying on the seniors.

That's what it feels like to be around Austin. He's so put together, so in control. He feels more mature than me sometimes. I pride myself on being both mature and in control but around him my own highly evolved sense of responsibility melts away. Maybe it’s that he grew up in the spotlight. More and more I’m realizing I’ll need to practice my public persona if I want to be successful.

"Told you I would guess it, you’re going to do him," Sam says as we watch him step into the elevator. I envision him getting ready for me to visit in a few hours. My mind goes to him in the shower, wondering what it would be like to join him. I get a little uncomfortable thinking about the way my body seemed to settle when he was at my side earlier.

"Ha, yeah." I agree with a little laugh.

"Listen, I don’t know the details of your agreement with each other but based on your big distressed energy earlier I think you should see what a million thread count sheets feel like with him on top of you." Sam pops the cherry from her drink into her mouth and chews it around a smile.

I blush, violently, as the mental image of just that invades my brain. All my senses. I’m sitting at the bar, I know that, but I can feel my skin warm as his touch travels across my body. I can smell his unique scent that energizes and soothes me.My blood turns to lava as icicles crash down my spine.

"I…ah…well," I try to laugh it off again and focus on the damp sections of my napkin.

“Oh Maggie, sweet, sweet, gentle, Maggie.” Sam laughs as she pats the back of my hand.

“What?” I challenge.

“You’re so gone for him.”

“No I’m not!” I argue but we both know it’s a weak stance.

“Okay, keep telling yourself that.”

"Yes, alright, fine, he’s hot. And the sex makes me question the laws of physics but it’s just sex. Most of the time I can’t stand being around him."

Except, I can. Every time we’ve taken the time to talk he has surprised me with how well he listens. And oddly, that thought brings my conversations with DCFox to mind.

For the first half of our correspondence I wondered if DCFox and I could have a relationship that is physically fulfilling. Now I have the texts to prove that it is. That it can be. And, sure, I'm not technically sleeping with another man, but would Austin consider my sexts with DCFox to be cheating.

Before I let that train of thought out of the station I remind myself that this is just sex. That's all it is between Austin and me. Sex. Really, really good sex. Like mind blowing sex. The kind of sex that gets you hot just thinking about it.

"You're thinking about it aren't you?" Sam asks and my attention snaps back to her.

"Thinking about what?"

"Sex with Austin Thorne.”

◆◆◆

It's several hours later and sex with Austin Thorne has indeed been on my mind. I got back up to my room at 10:30 and have been pacing the small space for twenty minutes.

Do I change clothes before going up there?

Will I be spending the night with him?

Should I shower?

I lift my arm and sniff my armpit, it's not great but it's not terrible .

I step into the bathroom. My makeup looks okay, a little less sharp than when I first applied it this morning but that was eighteen hours and three time zones ago.

I fill up a glass of water from the tap and chug down the lukewarm sink water. It's better than nothing I suppose. I pull my SMS Connect phone out of my toiletry case and turn to lean against the counter before I power it up.

DCFox usually writes to me at night. Since he's back in D.C. I bet there's a message waiting for me.

I drum my nails against the back of the phone while it turns on and only realize I was holding my breath when I inhale sharply at the empty inbox.

Weird.

Reading the notes from DCFox has been a comforting way to end my day these last couple of months. He seems to understand me in a way no one else does. I've been more vulnerable with him than I have been with anyone else.

Well, except for Austin.

Austin has a way of making me feel comfortable. Even if I'm annoyed with him it feels more like a game than actual hate.

Is it possible I've come to respect my fuck friend? That we could actually become friend friends?

I double check that his room key is in my pocket before slipping my own into my other pocket and heading up to his suite.

◆◆◆

"You're late," Austin says as I let myself in. He's lounging on the bed in just a pair of slate blue pajama pants. My mouth goes impossibly dry as I take in his chiseled torso. Each muscle is taught and firm and begging for my touch. He leans forward to grab the remote and it’s like every muscle I can see is pointed towards his waistband and I zero in on the bulge just below it and my mouth goes even drier.

"It's one after," I respond when I can unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth. He turns off the TV and slides across the bed to sit on the edge facing me. The smile on his face is sinister and when he slowly crooks a finger for me to walk to him my own smile grows wide.

"One minute when I could have been doing this," he says as he pulls me down to kiss him. Our mouths open and I desperately inhale through my nose as the familiar taste of him floods my senses. My fingers thread through his thick hair and my nails scrape along his scalp. He groans as he unbuttons my pants and slides them over my ass.

They pool on the floor around my heels but when I reach down to pull one off his hand stops me.

"Those, stay on," he informs me as he adjusts the glasses on his face. "Turn around."

I turn slowly and he reaches up to pull down the shoulders of my body suit. Shivers explode in the wake of his fingers as they trail along my skin.

He's savoring it.

Savoring me.

While we might just be doing this for the stress relief he's attracted to me. And I like it.

Feeling desired gives me power.

Thank goodness the election is less than two weeks away because the more I think about being with Austin the more I want to be with Austin.

The more I find him charming, quick witted, and intuitive. The more I find myself admiring him.

When the bodysuit reaches the curve of my ass, Austin stands and pulls it off my hips. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself while his chest warms my bare back.

He guides the garment to the floor and helps me step out of it before he stands up again and takes a seat on the bed.

I'm standing, with my back to him, in nothing but a pair of black pumps. I peek over my shoulder and see him rubbing his chin like he's trying to solve a problem. His eyes are dark behind his glasses. He slides them off his face and tosses them on the nightstand. My stomach flips at the gesture. When his eyes flash up to meet mine, it feels like the cage on a tiger enclosure was just unlocked. He’s ready to pounce.

"What should we do first, Austin?" I ask.

"I've got a few ideas.”

Austin stands behind me and I hear his pants swish as he steps out of them. The anticipation of his touch is heavy in my veins. I gasp when he reaches into my hair and unclips the tortoise shell claw there.

He gently pulls the hair off my shoulder and then wraps one arm around my chest and pulls me back into his. His other hand starts to tease my opening from behind. His thumb providing a pressure against my ass I wasn't expecting. He slides his hand further forward and begins to massage my clit and my knees buckle as electricity shoots through my veins.

His grip across my chest tightens to keep me upright as he fingers me. It feels like he has fifteen fingers moving around with how quickly he taps my clit, massages my slit, and presses into the space between my cheeks.

"Oh fuck, yes, Austin," I breathe out as my knees begin to shake .

"That's it, I've got you," he whispers into my ear before he trails kisses down my neck and along my shoulder. "I've got you Maggie," he repeats.

I hear myself whimpering as his fingers, his words, bring me closer to the edge. My eyes slam shut as I feel his erection growing along my hip. I reach for it as he works me to the brink.

"Yes Maggie, so good," he says as his forehead falls to my shoulder and I stroke him harder, faster. Focusing on him took me away from my own orgasm but when he slides two fingers into me and presses into my ass, my eyes fly open and I squeak in pleasure. Two more pumps of his fingers inside me and I freeze. I jerk forward as my orgasm hits me with such intensity it feels like the wind has gotten knocked out of me.

"Oh god, Austin," I grit out as he massages me through the peak and into the valley.

He spins me towards him, my hand still closed around his steely length, and kisses me fiercely. I feel him throb under my palm and after indulging in a few more languid strokes of his tongue against mine, I break the kiss and drop to my knees.

"Fuck yes Maggie," he whispers as I lick the underside of his cock from the base to the tip before pulling his head into my mouth and swirling my tongue around him.

Our eyes follow each other as I begin to bob my head down his length. The corners of his eyes soften as he rakes his fingers through my hair and cradles my head. I grab his thighs for balance as my own legs begin to quiver.

Seeing how turned on he is exciting. The awe in his eyes is empowering.

"This is only slightly better than when you use your mouth to argue with me," he says with a twinkle and in response I suck hard and my cheeks hollow out.

He stumbles backwards at the sudden sensation and pops out of my mouth. I grin up at him from my knees on the floor and his own is returned with a hint of wickedness.

"You think you're pretty clever there huh?" Austin asks as he slowly strokes himself and steps back up to me. “Get on the bed.”

I stand and step past him. When I’ve got both knees on the mattress, Austin grabs me by the shoes and swings my feet to the headboard. My head hangs off the foot of the bed. For a moment he simply takes in the view before climbing onto the bed himself.

"Open up," he commands and I lick my lips before parting for him. He slowly dips himself down my throat and then he lowers his head between my legs and sucks my clit into his mouth, hard.

I try to scream but the noise is muffled around his cock. He comes back up to kneeling and looks down at me.

"Two can play at this game Maggie Collins," he says before squeezing my tits together and pinching my nipples. Again I groan with the sensation but all we can hear is a garbled sound.

He stands and slowly guides himself in and out of my mouth while holding my head carefully. The position is lewd but there is a reverence to his movements that makes me feel respected.

It is unlike anything I've ever experienced.

My hands instinctively move to my chest and I fondle my own breasts and watch his eyes zero in on the movement. The cold AC of the room hits between my legs and causes a chill to run through me as it meets the dampness there. I slide one of my hands down and finger myself.

Whenever I masturbate I either use a toy in the shower or lie on my stomach and ride my hand. I've never been laid out like this with my knees propped up in heels on a hotel comforter. My mind zooms out to what we look like together and the image sends another wave of arousal through me .

I groan again around his cock and Austin pulls out.

"How are you doing Maggie?"

"I wanna come again," I tell him because that's the only truth I can speak out loud. I can't tell him that I'm feeling things for him I've never felt for anyone else. I can't tell him I'm confused by these feelings. I can't tell him I consider him a friend. I can't tell him I'm thinking about not continuing with SMS Connect because I've met him.

"Let's get you another orgasm," he offers and then again he dips himself down my throat and leans forward. Instead of putting his mouth on me he uses his fingers to compliment the movements of my own hand. As I maneuver tight circles on my clit he sinks two fingers into me and curls them to rub along my inner walls. He holds himself up with a fist on the bed next to my waist as he continues to dip in and out of my mouth.

My knees start to shake and I know I'm close, I rub myself harder, he plunges in and out of me faster. My thighs slam together and I grind out my orgasm on our hands that are trapped between them. I whimper through the tension with Austin still in my mouth. As the stars dancing across my vision start to face and my legs relax he pulls out of my mouth and pumps his orgasm onto my breasts.

I watch him finish and admire the pure masculinity of him. The way his muscles flex, how his hand fits around himself while mine covered much less.

He leans down and helps to lift my shoulders onto the bed and then turns to the bathroom. I look down at his release on my chest. The streaks of cum slide slowly down the slope of my tits. I run a finger through the still warm liquid and bring it to my lips. My tongue darts out just as Austin turns the corner from the bathroom.

"Are you tasting my jizz?" He asks as his feet stutter to a stop.

"Maybe," I reply before sliding the finger past my lips and sucking hard. He's salty, briny, and the taste makes my walls clench around emptiness.

His gaze is pure adoration and I panic when I realize I’m looking at him in the same way. Anxiety rises in my chest, and I dart my eyes away.

"If I had known you wanted to taste it I would have shot off in your mouth," he says as he hands me the washcloth. "Would have saved me some clean up. Do you wan-" he stops when I sit up quickly and say "So I'll just go now."

"Okay," he agrees quietly as I step into my body suit. "Want me to, oh, no, okay." He finishes as I slide the garment up my arms myself and reach down to step into my pants. I have to get out o here. Feelings are happening and I’m not supposed to have feelings with Austin.

He sounds disappointed. Did he want to go again? Should I ask him? Was he going to ask me to stay? I already decided that I wouldn’t. Right? Right. This is just sex.

Except, I can’t escape the crash. It's happening in slow motion and in real time and at hyper speed all at once.

The emotions of wanting to stay, of the experience we just shared, of still despising him because of the business he created. I'm also overwhelmed by the awkwardness of being the one to leave.

How does he do this? Just finish sex and walk out the door. Our sessions leave me in a foggy state for several hours afterwards and right now my body is screaming at me not to leave.

It's begging to cuddle up next to Austin. To spend the night.

Instead of indulging these desires, I fasten my wide leg pants, take one last look around his suite with regret because it’s really nice, and then I turn around and leave.