Free The Value Of Valor - KJ3 by Lynn Ames Page B

center, and she dipped two fingers in the wetness she’d known she would find there. Reluctantly, she gave in and allowed her imagination to run wild.
    There was Alexa, leaning over her, her sea green eyes gone black with desire. Trystan moaned as she imagined feeling soft, pliant breasts brushing against hers. She brought a hand up and smoothed a palm over her hardening nipple. “Oh, Alexa.”
    Trystan’s eyes closed, and a vision of Alexa kissing her way down her body turned her liquid center to a river of lava. She squeezed her clitoris, picturing Alexa’s mouth hot and hungry on her. She stroked her center, and it was Alexa’s fingers she imagined. “Oh, God. Oh, Alexa.
    Oh.” The words burst forth like a prayer as Trystan came hard.
    As her breathing slowed and evened out, Trystan smiled into her pillow. Within seconds, she drifted off to sleep.

    Lynn Ames

    “President Hyland?” Vicky Winston, the president’s personal secretary, stuck her head into the Oval Office. She’d been with him since the early days in New York and knew him better than almost anybody in the White House.
    “Yes, Vicky, what is it?” The president had his nose buried in a stack of papers on his desk, his hair sticking up at odd angles where his hand had been running through it.
    “Vice President Wheeler is here to see you.”
    The president grunted. Alton Wheeler was, in Charles Hyland’s opinion, a pompous blowhard with the intelligence of a hamster, although the comparison would be insulting to the rodent. The former Alabama senator and good ol’ boy had been thrust upon him as a running mate by the chairman of the Democratic National Committee, backed by the more conservative Southern wing of the party. “Well, that’ll make it a perfect end to a perfect day,” the president muttered under his breath.
    “Excuse me, sir?”
    “Send him in, Vicky.”
    “Yes, sir. Oh, and don’t forget, Mr. President, you’ve scheduled dinner this evening in the residence with Press Secretary Kyle.”
    “That’s right.” The president’s face brightened. At least he could count on some good conversation over supper.
    A moment later, the door opened and Vicky announced the vice president.
    “Come in, Al.” The president stood, a false smile plastered on his face. “What can I do for you this fine evening?”
    “Evenin’, Mr. President,” Wheeler boomed in his thick Southern drawl. “I was thinking it was about time to discuss my role around here.”
    He held up his hand to forestall the president’s answer. “Now I know we haven’t always been on the same side on a whole bunch of issues, but I expect even you realize you can’t run a government without a vice president.”
    Want to bet, you smug idiot? The president sat back down, leaned back in his chair, and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “Let me tell you what I know, Al. The American people elected us as a team with the expectation that together we would keep them safe, bring them prosperity, and protect their rights as free citizens.”
    “Amen to that, which is why I’m here. Now I see myself—”
    It was rare that the president lost his temper, but it had been a very long and difficult day. He sprang forward so quickly that his visitor was forced to back away from the desk. “The voters of this great country have selected me to lead this team—not you, Al. Me. There is only one president. That means I set the agenda, I call the shots. Your job will be The Value of Valor

    to reinforce the choices and decisions I make. No surprises from you, no headline-grabbing remarks, no policy statements that haven’t been cleared by me or my chief of staff, and your schedule is vetted by my scheduler. Am I making myself clear?”
    The vice president’s face turned beet red. “I hear you. Now let me give you a little news flash. You wouldn’t be sitting in that fancy chair there without me, Pretty Boy. I suggest you remember that.”
    “I wish I had the time