Dutch and Gina: The Power of Love Page 2

  When she surfaced, jerking her head wildly, Dutch was laughing.

  “You can swim,” he said to her. “Now do you believe me?”

  At first she was still panicky. She was still computing the fact that he had actually thrown her into the water. But then, when she realized she was actually floating in that water, with her little feet flapping and her arms wading and her sense that she was completely in control the way she was whenever they were in the White House pool, she felt a relief she didn’t think possible. It had been a lifelong goal of hers to learn how to swim. And now, in her thirties, thanks to Dutch’s patient and numerous lessons, she finally accomplished it.

  But she wasn’t about to let that slick husband of hers know how triumphant she really felt. Not after the sink-or-swim way he made her achieve that triumph. “Yeah, I’ve got your swim right here,” she said as she took both hands and scooted water into his face and hair.

  Dutch, surprised by her reaction, shook the water out of his jet-black, slick-backed hair and ran his hand over his easily gorgeous face. And then he looked at her. Was she angry with him? When she grinned that two can play this game grin he knew so well, he smiled and reached for her, to teach her another lesson, but she wasn’t having it. She started swimming to get away from him, laughing so hard she could hardly accomplish the feat, her small arms cutting through the water like the confident swimmer he knew she could become.

  He took off too, following her, careful to stay close enough to rescue her if she faltered, but not so close as to overtake her. Seeing Gina happy and carefree was the highlight of his day. He wasn’t about to take that away.

  But when she made a U-turn heading back to shore, she slowed, mainly because she was laughing too hard to keep her arms from becoming deadweight on her frame. But it was just enough for him to make his move. He overtook her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her to him. Her tight ass was against his front, his penis rammed against her ass, as he kissed her on her neck.

  “If I hear any more talk about you not being able to swim,” he said, kissing her, “I’m going to personally put you over my knee. Got it?”

  Gina leaned back against him with a serene smile on her face. “Got it,” she said. She was so pleased to be conquering her fear that all she wanted to do was to savor the moment.

  But as Dutch continued kissing her, and as she could feel his erection expanding against her soaking wet bikini bottom, that serenity became a sensual float. She took his big arms and wrapped them even tighter around her as their feet floated in unison with the waves. She was often amazed that a girl like her, from a place like Newark, New Jersey, could be so blessed as to catch the eye of such an extraordinary man like Walter Dutch Harber. But it was a fact. She had caught the eye of the President of the United States, a man who treated her as if she were not only his first lady, but the only woman he could ever want.

  And Dutch loved and wanted this woman completely as he kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear and ran his Elvis-like lips along the side of her smooth, chocolate face. He’d had so many women in his day and time, including the most desirable women the world over, but then Gina came along. When he first looked into her bright brown eyes he saw such compassion there, such honesty and integrity there, that he liked her immediately. He maybe even knew somehow that she would one day be his life partner.

  And as he kissed her now, as his penis began to expand to near the release point, pressing into her butt, he still could not fathom anyone more beautiful, more desirable, more moral and upright, strong and loyal, than Regina Lansing-Harber. His wife. His life.

  His need for her became so fierce that he reached into her bikini bottom and began massaging her ass. His flat hand began moving over her round mounds with an expertise that made her feel the heat deep down to the inner folds of her vagina. And when his hand moved around and further down, to that vagina, and began to finger her, to massage her clit and then her innermost womanhood, she almost collapsed against him. They were waist high in water, on a private beach with beautiful waves encapsulating them, the Secret Service detail at a good distance away and no one else around them, and it was remarkable to Gina. They’d been through so much, with so many battles waged against them, that now it was pure heavenly. The vacation to end all vacations.

  And their son Little Walt had made the trip with them; Dutch’s daughter Jade with her new hubby Christian had also come along; her best friend LaLa King and Dutch’s best friend Crader McKenzie, all were there. And Gina was, once and for all, just happy.

  Dutch was happy too, but his gaiety, at this moment, was quickly turning into pure lust. He wanted Gina. Wanted her in the worst way. He began to push harder into her, massaging her until his fingers were soaked in her wetness.

  But he knew he couldn’t possibly make love to her here, in the wide open, where Secret Service agents and prying eyes from the main house could easily detect something amiss. Because he knew, if his manhood entered her womanhood, there would be no way for him to finesse his movements. He would be banging the shit out of her in broad daylight, for all to see. And nobody, especially not him, was going to cheapen his wife that way.

  Despite the pain it caused his engorged penis, he slipped his hand out of her bikini, and pulled back.

  Tonight, on the last night of their vacation, he would finish what he had just started. But not here. Not now.

  Gina, at first, was surprised when he pulled back. She knew his sexual appetite for her was a ferocious one, especially when he had gone so far as to have his fingers inside of her. Pulling back, for a man like Dutch, took a lot of self-control and courage. And she loved him even more for doing so. But she also knew how to have fun with it.

  “You are such a coward,” she said with a smile.

  Dutch looked at her, realized she was having fun at his expense, and then smiled too. “I’ll show you what kind of coward I am,” he said as he slapped her behind as hard as he could and moved toward her, causing her to take off swimming again with that laughter that filled his heart. And he took off swimming after her, careful not to overtake her. He felt like a kid. Like the most popular guy in high school who had wrangled himself the most popular girl. And although he still had so much on his plate that he had to get back to, he had never felt more carefree, more joyous, more blessed than he did, with his wife, right here and right now.

  Loretta “LaLa” King was seated at the large window inside the main house when she saw Dutch throw Gina into the water. She nearly jumped from her chair when she saw it, causing Little Walt, who was in her arms, his big hazel eyes as wide as quarters, to jump too. Crader McKenzie was standing at the same window talking on the cell phone, but his mind was more on his conversation than on what Dutch was doing to Gina. Yet LaLa was mesmerized by it. She even glanced at Crader, to see if he saw it too, but Crader was too busy on the phone yelling at one of his staffers.

  LaLa looked back at the couple in the water. She knew Gina had been learning how to swim. She also knew that the president had spent many of his free hours teaching her in the White House pool. But Gina kept saying she wasn’t quite ready yet; that she still had those butterflies in the pit of her stomach whenever she was around a large body of water. Yet the president just tossed her in as if she was a long-time pro.

  It wasn’t until Gina resurfaced and began swimming, with the president in close pursuit, did LaLa settle back down. Gina was her best friend, a one-of-a-kind wonderful lady who took her into her heart as if they were blood sisters, and LaLa would be crestfallen if anything ever happened to her.

  “Did you see that?” LaLa asked Crader as soon as he ended his phone call.

  “Did I see what?” Crader asked, his piercing blue eyes looking down LaLa’s curvaceous body and then out of the window. “What did I miss?”

  “The president threw Gina in the water, forcing her to swim.”

  “Really?” Crader said with a smile. “So what happened? Did she sink or did she swim?”

&
nbsp; LaLa hesitated. “She swam, actually.”

  Crader nodded. “Dutch knew what he was doing. He knows how to handle Gina.”

  “Yeah, but the way he just tossed her in was scary,” LaLa said and looked at Little Walt. “It was scary, wasn’t it, baby? The way daddy tossed mommy into that water?”

  Little Walt smiled a big, toothless grin and nodded his gorgeous head the way LaLa was nodding hers. This baby boy, with his large hazel eyes, and syrupy oak-brown skin, and soft head of thick, curly hair, was going to be a lady killer. LaLa could see it already.

  “Speaking of water,” Crader said as he leaned his athletic body against the windowpane, his eyes staring into hers, “the president’s numbers are no longer underwater for the first time in over a year.”

  LaLa looked at him. “It sounds great, but what does that mean exactly?”

  Crader caught himself. He had to remember that although LaLa was the First Lady’s assistant, she was as new to politics as Gina was. “It means the president is polling well. When he’s underwater, his approval rating is lower than his disapproval rating. A month ago his approval was at 42 percent, his disapproval was right around 50 percent. Now his approval is 54 percent and his disapproval is around forty. He’s no longer underwater.”

  “That’s great news, Cray. He could use some good news. Especially since this is the last day of our vacation and we’ll all be heading back to DC tomorrow.”

  “The president won’t. He’s got those fundraisers in California for Senate Democrats, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  “And then we have to head to that economic forum in Seattle. You and the First Lady will head back to DC, but Dutch and I will be out and about.”

  “Must be nice,” LaLa said as she grabbed Little Walt’s tiny fingers just as he attempted to unbutton her blouse. Crader looked down at that blouse, and at those sizeable breasts behind that blouse, and then he looked into LaLa’s big eyes. LaLa was already staring into his.

  “You look pretty today,” he said when he realized his blunder. But he liked the way her white silk blouse crisscrossed over those big breasts and provided a nice contrast against her brown skin. “You’ve lost a pound or two, haven’t you?”

  She hesitated. He really was a torturer. “Yes,” she said, “I’ve lost a pound or two or ten.”

  Crader stood erect. “Ten? You’ve lost ten pounds?”

  “Yup.”

  Crader hated that he wasn’t more attentive to her. He just hated it.

  “Not that you’d notice,” LaLa added sadly.

  “I’m sorry about that, La,” he said. “I always have things going on, you know, and I can’t seem to pay much attention.”

  The president had fifty times more “things” going on than Crader McKenzie, LaLa thought, but yet the president always noticed the least things about Gina. He even noticed when LaLa was losing weight.

  “Alright, Loretta, slow your roll,” Dutch had jokingly said to her. “We don’t want you disappearing on us.”

  But that was the difference, LaLa thought, between Dutch and Crader. Crader talked a good game. Dutch lived the game.

  “Since it’s our last night here,” Crader said, still taking peeps at her chest, his penis beginning to react to the revealed cleavage, “why don’t we go out and paint the town?”

  There was a time when painting the town with Crader McKenzie would have been dreamlike to LaLa. Now it just felt burdensome. “Didn’t you paint it last night?” she asked him.

  “Me? No. Why would you say that?”

  “I went to your cottage, to see if I could interest you in a card game, but you weren’t there.”

  Crader hesitated. He wasn’t getting any breaks. He was considered a great man in many circles, but he somehow never seemed able to get it together with LaLa. “Oh, right,” he said, attempting to minimize it. “I went out for an hour or two.”

  More like all night, LaLa knew, but didn’t say. She was done with lying awake at night wondering what Crader or any other man was up to. “Ah, that’s lovely,” she said instead, looking at Dutch and Gina in the water. “Look how the president is holding Gina from behind.”

  Crader looked, and then snorted. “That’s not all he’s holding,” he said.

  LaLa frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean, Cray?”

  “Look at them. He’s holding her all right, but with one hand.”

  LaLa continued to look at the couple. “So?”

  “So where’s his other hand, La? And why is Gina leaning back into him as if she was all into him?”

  “Maybe because she is all into him.”

  “Yeah, in more ways than one.”

  Dutch and Gina were too far away for LaLa to see the motions of the president’s arm to be as certain as Crader that some kinkiness was going on, but she looked away anyway. If two people ever deserved a little privacy, it was those two.

  “Anyway,” she said, standing to her feet. “It’s Little Walt’s nap time.”

  “I understand.”

  LaLa looked at Crader. “You understand? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means every time the conversation shifts to matters of sex, you flee the scene.”

  LaLa frowned. “I flee the scene? That’s nonsense, Crader! I’m not fleeing any scene.”

  “Okay,” Crader said, a bemused look on his face.

  “I’m not fleeing any scene.”

  “I said okay,” Crader said with a smile. He knew he had pushed her button, but it couldn’t be helped. LaLa was as much in denial about her messed up love life as he was about his messed up life period. They both, he felt, could use some therapy. Sexual therapy, if you asked him. Because the truth was, Crader hadn’t touched another woman since he messed up with Liz Sinclair and caused the end of his budding affair with LaLa, and he would bet his mansion in Florida that LaLa hadn’t touched any other man.

  “I’m not running away from anything,” LaLa explained. “I just thought we should let the president and the First Lady have some privacy.”

  “And I agree with you.”

  “That’s not the same thing as fleeing any scene.”

  Crader stared at her. At her smooth, chocolate brown skin; at her big, almond eyes; at the way she held her head high, and always did, even in the midst of her heartbreaks. He would give anything in this world to change that night when he hooked up with Liz. Anything at all. Sometimes he wondered if he did it on purpose. If she was getting too close and he had to push her way. He was a former United States Senator, the president’s current chief of staff, a very wealthy and powerful man in his own right. But he never wanted anything more than he wanted LaLa.

  “My kingdom for a horse,” he said quietly as he stared at her.

  LaLa stared at him. She knew the reference. She knew he was quoting Shakespeare’s Richard the Third where Richard was trapped during battle and couldn’t get out of harm’s way because his horse had been killed. It was only then that Richard realized the life-or-death importance of something he had taken for granted. ‘A horse, a horse,’ Richard had proclaimed, ‘my kingdom for a horse.’

  LaLa understood the reference, but she wanted to hear it from Crader. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him.

  “I’ll give anything to turn back the hands of time, La,” Crader said heartfelt. “Anything.”

  LaLa didn’t respond. Sometimes Crader made her feel so foolish, as if she was out of her mind to not give a kind, great looking, powerful man like him another chance. Sometimes she even wondered if she was making the biggest mistake of her life. But other times, like at Jade and Christian’s wedding when he flirted with every pretty girl in sight, she knew she wasn’t foolish at all. “I’m not into Shakespeare,” she said dismissively.

  Crader felt the dismissiveness in her tone, but he couldn’t give up now. “But will you go out with me tonight?” he asked.

  “Little Walt’s dozing,” she said, noticing the baby. “It’s his nap
time.”

  “Will you, La? Please?”

  It felt like begging, but Crader didn’t care. He had fucked up royally and he knew it. The least he could do was beg.

  LaLa looked at him. At his brownish-blond hair, at the way his milky blue eyes stared at her in such a longing way. He was so handsome, and so strong, such a wonderful man in so many ways. But he broke her heart even after she had alerted him to the possibility. And now he felt too risky, too much of a bad bet, because her heart wasn’t equipped to take another break.

  “I doubt it,” she answered honesty and was about to turn to take Walter to his nursery.

  But Crader, a sudden and pained expression on his face, reached for the baby, instead. “I’ll take him,” he said.

  His heart was hammering, not because of her response, but because of that look of repulsion he saw in her eyes. As if she was repulsed by the notion of going anywhere with him. And he couldn’t take that. Not from the woman he loved. He was so pained that he was afraid he could break down and cry right in front of LaLa. That was why he grabbed Little Walt, and fled from the room.

  LaLa could see the embarrassment on Crader’s face as he left with the baby. He was a proud man, she knew, who wasn’t accustomed to being turned down. But what did he expect from her? Her ex-beau Dempsey was a good man too, and she had given him chance after chance, only to have her heart broken so completely that she was still piecing it back together. Then Crader came along, and she was convinced she had found another good one, but that he would be far more faithful than Dempsey could ever be. Only to catch him that night, completely caught up in lust, as he allowed Liz Sinclair to suck on his big dick as if she was sucking on a lollipop. And that wasn’t the kind of memory she was ever likely to forget.

  She looked back out of the window as Dutch and Gina started swimming again, this time toward the shore. Gina was the first to reach the beach, laughing uproariously. LaLa smiled too. She loved to see Gina cut loose and have some fun. About time, in her estimation.