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Charlotte Daley is the daughter of the newly elected POTUS. An only child, she’s both spoiled rotten and entirely neglected by her powerful family. She’s been forced to eat with the right forks, smile at all the right times, and be the picture of perfection for months. Now that her father is in office and too busy to know she exists, she’s determined to exercise her new freedom before she heads back to college in New York.
Zane Parker has one job—to protect the President’s daughter, all day, every day. But she’s been on a partying spree since the inauguration, heading down a dangerous path that threatens to ruin her reputation and cause a major scandal for her father. Zane will lose his job if he can’t get her under control. Except he wants to sleep with her as badly as he wants to set her straight. She needs discipline. And he might be just the one to give it to her.
When unexpected circumstances tie Charlotte to D.C. for the foreseeable future, Zane makes her an offer that’s anything but honorable. He’ll give the first daughter all the thrills she’s seeking in exchange for one thing… Her obedience. Fascinated by Zane’s dark promises, Charlotte agrees. Submission has never felt so good. But as Zane brings her deeper into his forbidden desires, enemies surface and danger lurks…
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Every minute that passes, I seem to sink farther down into the couch. I’m smaller, heavier, less noticeable. I’m not sure I mind.
The room is noisy with music and people I don’t want to talk to. I may be one of the most important people in the room, but I’m still new to the DC scene. Right now, there aren’t that many friendly faces, though I’m sure that will change quickly. Our parents might run the world, but the rest of us just want to get fucked up and have our fun while no one’s watching.
I take a gulp of tequila from my crystal tumbler and glance sideways toward the hallway. Zane stands there like a stone mountain, his body half-obscured behind the wall, the other half visibly squared toward me. His eyes are slate gray and seem to blacken when he’s particularly pissed off. The rest of his features match his dark demeanor. His neatly trimmed chestnut hair does nothing to hide the earpiece he wears constantly. His skin is a natural olive. His typical black suit is tailored perfectly to his muscular frame, and my gaze lingers where it shouldn’t—the apex of his thighs.
I return my focus to my drink and take another sip. My head is already buzzing with the effects of the alcohol, but I don’t care. I’ve been living and breathing my father’s election for almost two years. All eyes on us. All the right moves. Cameras, interviews, gossip, drama. At some point, my anxiety took over. And at some point, I started using whatever means I could to temper it.
The life of a politician’s daughter was one I was used to, but nothing could have prepared me for the nationwide attention of the campaign. Months of brutal, relentless attention. As much as I wanted him to win, I dreaded the life we were signing on for. A new home in a new city, new friends, new everything. The only plus was no one was going to be looking at me under a microscope that way anymore. At least not until the next election.
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