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Wicked Games

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Al stepped onto the campaign bus. Tipper was at home with the kids, and he was left on his own with Clinton’s for the next two days. Not that he minded Bill in the least, but Hillary, well she was a different story altogether. There was a thick fog of tension that hung between them like a curtain. And there was nothing Al wanted more than to rip the entire rod down. Rodham. She was the issue. She was always the issue when it came to Bill. Al knew he didn’t have a chance in hell at having any meaningful impact on the presidency. Not with Hillary in the picture.


Truth be told he was intrigued by her. By her intellect, by her arrogance, her profound connection with Bill, and frankly by the way her hips swayed when she walked. And it was almost if she was aware of his fascination with her, because sometimes she stood too close, sometimes she let her eyes wander over him, and sometimes she brushed past him a little too sensuously for his comfort.


And here she was now, smart little skirt suit halfway discarded, leaving her in a tight skirt, a fitted tank, and bare feet. She was a petite little thing despite her appearance of being a strong, no-nonsense woman. But now looking at her, bare feet padding across the floor, the ratio of her waist to her hips, she was anything but powerless.


“How’d it go?” she asked, heading for the small liquor cabinet. “I do hope you kept your foot out of your mouth this time.”


He noticed a small shift in her tone, her accent even. She was a Yankee girl after all. “It went fine.”


“Mmm,” she hummed. “You’re a handsome man, Al, you should use that to your advantage,” she busied herself pouring two drinks. “You do drink vodka, don’t you? Bill prefers dark liquor, but I’ve always been more drawn to the light.”


Al wasn’t sure if that were some sort of play on words or not, but he refused to bite. “Burns a little more if you ask me.”


Hillary picked up both glasses, offering one out to him. “You’ve just never had the right kind.” There was some sort of mischief dancing in her eyes, almost fire, and he was torn rather or not to engage her. “Oh, come on, Al! I’m trying here, meet me halfway.”


He finally accepted the drink from her. “Thank you.” He reluctantly took a sip, and to his surprise the liquor was smooth. The slight burn almost welcome. “Not bad.”


Her drink was half gone in one swallow. “It’s all about the quality,” her lips turned upward in a smirk. “Some things are worth paying a little more for.”


Christ. He seemed to be paying for this conversation in more ways than one. He took another sip of the clear liquor. “Bill resting?”


“No,” she replied, wetting her lips. “He went out.”


“Out?” he swallowed, thickly. “What do you mean?”


Hillary slowly raised her glass to her lips, tipping the tumbler up and throwing her head back, draining the contents. “He and a few staffers went to do some ass kissing at a local town hall. I chose to stay here and relax.”


Al caught himself looking her over. Again. He quickly snapped his eyes up to find her looking at him intently.


“Why don’t you like me, Al?”


He raised his glass and swallowed down the rest of his drink. “I like you just fine, Hillary.”


“Bullshit.” she placed her empty glass on the same cabinet and reached for his as well. She unscrewed the lid on the bottle and refilled the glasses.


“Why bullshit?” he pondered, taking the few steps over to where she stood. He picked the renewed tumbler. “You’re a formidable woman.”


“Formidable?” she asked, picking up her drink and turning around to lean up against the cabinet. “That’s an interesting choice of words, Mr. Gore.”


He drank down some liquid courage. “That’s the kind of reputation you want, isn’t Hillary?” he asked, moving across the room, putting distance between them. “To be Bill’s equal?”


“I am Bill’s equal,” she said, firmly. “In every sense of the word,” she moved closer to him. “And that’s exactly the problem isn’t it, Al? I’m standing in your way.”

He scoffed. “Now that’s bullshit.”


Hillary moved closer, still. “How so?” she asked. “I’m getting too much attention and you’re jealous. You practically lost your shit when that reporter used the term co-presidents because that leaves no room for you.”


“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Ms. Rodham?” he asked, drawing out her name. “You want this all for yourself.”


They were toe to toe now and despite the difference in height they both knew she was in control. “It’s Mrs. Clinton.”


“Mrs. Clinton,” he bit out. “Why don’t you be a good little wife and learn your place.” Oh, shit. He had done it now.


“Like Tipper?” she countered. “That’s not really my style. I much rather like it here in the thick of things. It would be better for you though, wouldn’t it? If I just stayed home and left you to it?”


“Bill would never go for that.” Even he knew that. Hillary was his source of…well everything. There was no way he was going to campaign without her. In fact, Al wasn’t so sure Bill could even function without her.


“Damn right,” she smiled in triumph. “And it makes you green with envy. You want him all to yourself and that’s simply not going to happen, Al,” she toyed with his tie. “It’s always going to be just like this. Bill and Hillary and Al, the third wheel.”


Al was damn near seething and struggling to hold back it anger. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steady breath. “You are absolutely infuriating; do you know that?”


Hillary chuckled, low and deep. “So, I’ve been told.”


He opened his eyes to look at her. This force of a woman, and that’s exactly what she was, all woman, looking up at him through thick mascara laden lashes and pouty lips still stained from the lipstick she wore earlier. Hillary stirred up more conflicting emotions in him than anyone he had ever met.


“You know what I think, Al?” she asked, undoing the knot in his tie, pulling it off his neck and dropping it to the floor. “I think you’re struggling.”


“Struggling?” he repeated, thickly. “How so?” She was close now. Unbearably close. He could feel the heat emanating from her body. It was true he was struggling. Because nothing made any sense. Not with her so close.


“I think you can’t decide if you hate me…” she trailed off, smug little smirk reappearing on her face. “Or if you want to fuck me.” Al’s eyes grew wide. “Well, which is it?” she asked, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked up at him expectedly. “Both perhaps?”


Why was she so close to him? He felt incredibly flushed, his heart was racing, his palms sweaty. What he needed to do was get as far away for her as possible, but the campaign bus was only so big, and he felt trapped by her. “Hillary….”


“Yes, Al?”


It finally occurred to him that he could take a step back, pull himself away from her. And in that realization, he did just that. Taking one step back and then another until there was comfortable distance between them. “I’m incredibly tired, I think I’m going to just go rest for a while.”


Hillary smiled. “Sweet dreams then.” She moved in closer to him again, bridging the distance and placed a chaste kiss against his cheek.

Bill had quietly entered the bus through the front and was taking in the scene before him, his lips pulled into a slight grin. Hillary’s ability to get under Al’s skin was second to only the republicans. “Come on, darlin’, leave him alone.”


Hillary looked past Al and her eyes locked with Bill. “We were just talking about you.” Al moved across the small bus away from her, and Hillary moved toward Bill.


“I’m sure you were,” he said, long legs bringing him to her quickly. “Were you able to relax?” he snaked his arm around her waist and placed a kiss to her temple.


“Yes,” she replied. “Al helped,” she eyed him. “We had a few drinks.”


Bill smiled at his potential vice president. “I’m happy to hear the two of you are getting along.”


Al nodded. “Of course.”


He looked back at his wife. “How about we get some much-needed relaxation?” he suggested. “I could use some one-on-one time with you,” he glanced over at Al. “You don’t mind, do you?”


“No,” he said, quickly, perhaps too quickly. “The two of you have certainly earned it. I was just telling Hillary that I need to rest for a while. I was heading to climb into one of the bunks.”


Bill nodded. “Goodnight then.”


“Goodnight.” Al replied, disappearing from their site and into the back of the middle of the bus.


He reached for his wife’s hand. “You really need to be nicer to him.”


Hillary smiled. “I am nice to him, Bill,” she said, feigning innocence.


His fingers slid under her chin and tipped it upward so that he could look deep into her eyes. “Then stop teasing him. He’s just a good ole Tennessee boy, he can’t handle it.”


“You’re just a good ole Arkansas boy and you handle it just fine,” she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer to her. “You handle me just fine.”


“Mmmhmm,” he hummed. “But you’re too much for Al.”


Her right hand slid from his waist down to his ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Too much?”


His hips jutted forward in response. “I think you’re enjoying this far too much and need to be taken down a notch, Mrs. Clinton.”


“Well, lucky for you, I think you’re just the man to do it.”


“My pleasure.”


He had led her to the back of the bus and had her pushed down on the bed before reaching back and hastily pulling the curtain somewhat closed behind them. The double bed filled most of the small space but that was of no concern to them. They had been in much tighter spaces with absolutely no problem.


Hillary reached for the hem of her tank and pulled up off her body, leaving her in a silky dark purple bra.


“Come here,” he reached for her hips, dragging her to the edge of the bed. His hands pushed her skirt up around her waist and he hooked long fingers into lace underwear quickly pulling them from her body. “Much better.”


Her legs immediately fell open for him, her pink center dark and wet before him. “Please.” she practically purred. “I’ve missed you so much.”


Long elegant fingers brushed over her pouty nether lips, teasing caresses up and down until she was squirming beneath him. Liquid heat pooled in her core and began trickling out of her. “How did you get so wet, darlin’?”


“Touch me,” she rasped. “Please.”


He continued his actions, circling but never going any closer to where she wanted him most. “Answer my question.”


The only thing she could possibly think about was his fingers sinking down inside of her. It’s all she wanted. “You,” she breathed. “You promised to make it up to me earlier, remember?”


“Mmm,” he sighed. “And you’ve just been walking around like this for the past two hours? I think not.”


Her head was swimming. “No?”


His fingertips were now feathering over the length of her sex. So close to where she wanted him. “No, you would have taken care of this yourself.”


“I wanted you.”


“Are you sure your teasing Al didn’t get you like this?” his voice was low and gravelly.


“Bill,” she whined. “Like Al would know what to do with me.”


“Luckily for you, I know exactly what you need.”


“Oh yeah? What’s that?”


“A really good fuck.”


He watched the expression on her face as his fingers finally came in full contact with the glistening pink before him. He coated his fingers in the wet heat, swirling around her tight core before dragging his middle finger up to her hardened clit, lightly tapping against it. “So hot.”


Hillary writhed beneath his touch, her hips bucked forward, and she let out a deep throated moan of gratitude. “Fuck yes!”


“Is that what you need?” he asked, his finger now circling her clit ever so lightly. “My touch?”


“Yes,” she panted, stomach muscles tight with anticipation. “I need to come. I need you to make me come.”


Bill used his opposite hand to undo with pants and free his throbbing cock. “Fuck, see what you do to me?” he gave his thick length a tug. “Coming in here and finding you teasing Al. God, you drive me insane.” The thrust himself into his hand harder as his fingers delved knuckles deep into slick pink, her muscles gripping him tightly.


“Oh, Bill!” she shrieked. She knew she was loud she just didn’t care. This had been the only thing she could think about for hours, and she was so close to the edge she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long.


Her reaction sent a hot thrill through his body. The need to make her come was so overwhelming that his hand abandoned his cock. “I’ll take care of you, darlin’, don’t you worry.”


He was on his knees before she could even register what was happening. The flat of his tongue took a devouring lick from her sopping core all the way up to her engorged clit, swirling against the tight bud before sucking it into his hot mouth where his tongue flicked over it in rhythmic motion.


Her cries grew louder and louder, her hips bucking in tandem with each delicious lash of his tongue. She had needed this so badly. She raised up on her elbows to watch him, and that’s when she caught the movement by the gap in the curtain and the wall.


Bill’s tongue was sliding inside of her now, creating the most delicious sensation and nothing else mattered. Her core began to tighten, a new surge of moisture flowed from her and down his chin as her orgasm began to unravel. Waves crashed deep within her, and white-hot heat enveloped her entire body.


“Oh…oh my God…fuck!” she panted, her eyes locking with Al’s. “Billy!”


Bill released her legs and climbed over her, his lips meeting hers and indulging her in the taste of herself. The kiss lingered, her tongue slid over his and she drew it into her mouth and gently sucked on the tip. She could still feel Al’s eyes on them, on her and thrill ran down her spine and settled between her thighs.


“Off,” Hillary tugged at his shirt. “I want more.”


Her eyes once again met Al’s and she winked. This was a game, and he was nothing more than a pawn.