Alec paced, flashing a glance at Braden, who could overhear Shade's end of the conversation. Braden shrugged. "He's got a point, brother. California or the country?"
Alec glared at him. "But I won't be the fucking President forever, Braden. Four years, eight at most. Then I need something to come back to."
Braden picked his laptop up off the floor and waited for it to reboot. "Well, I can always just take him out. But that creates its own controversy and doesn't really solve your problem. The VP takes the Presidency, then he’d probably have the party's nomination, and you're back where you started. Sounds to me like he has you over a barrel, brother."
Alec paced to the window, glaring at his own reflection in the glass. "One condition, Shade. You better fucking make this work. If I'm going to give up my territory, you have to guarantee Ashton caves. If he tries to hang in through the scandal after Rissa fucks him, you may need to perform a few more visits, just to let him know how nasty it will get."
Shade chuckled deep in his throat. "You threatening me? Not a good idea. I’ll start the job tonight.”
Hanging up, he looked across the field of recruits, and smiled. He’d just closed one of the easiest deals of his entire life. God help these fucking mortals if they elected Canton.
Alec threw the phone against the wall, turning his anger on Braden. "I better win this thing. Now get busy and do your fucking job!"
14
Shade teleported through the dark of night and across the White House lawn before landing quietly on the roof, still shadowed from view. He saw the Secret Service agents stationed there, with night vision goggles and long-range rifles, chatting quietly to each other, and completely oblivious to him. He figured Ashton would be asleep by this time. His biggest challenge was not having information about the President’s habits, knowing when he retired, what time he usually fell asleep, or whether he took any medications that enhanced his sleep but may interfere with his dream activity. Not to mention his target could be roused at any time to respond to a national emergency. Shade would just have to play this one by ear.
He had blocked all images and thoughts from Kate. He sure as hell didn’t want her to know what he was about to do. He was taking note of all the security around him before he entered the building, but he remained invisible to them. He had to stifle a laugh. If only the leader of the free world could hire immortals. Telepathy and teleporting would come in handy.
He already had the complete set of blueprints for the White House. He’d secured those some time ago in the event Alec won his bid for the presidency. His warriors were already learning the vast layout of each floor and all the rooms, so they’d be prepared beforehand.
Shade teleported to the third floor which was designated as the family quarters. He made his way to the President’s bedroom. He already knew the First Lady slept in a separate room on most nights. That was about the only fucking advantage he had in this gig.
The security was rampant in this place, not that it would do the President any good tonight. Poor fucker had no damn privacy. Why the hell Alec wanted this position was beyond Shade. He stood back and watched the man before him in his bed, sound asleep. He’d have to be careful as to how much stimulation this dream gave him. Shade didn’t want him making too much noise and arousing the suspicion of the security stationed right outside his door.
Shade laid his hand on the President’s forehead, and then closed his eyes and stepped inside the man’s subconscious, curious to see what was rattling around in there. All he could see were flashes of suited men around conference tables, and images of armed military. He almost laughed out loud. What the fuck was he doing here? He got his concentration back and decided to see if Rissa was already lodged somewhere in his subconscious. Shade inserted a vision of Rissa standing sleek and tall, her long legs on display. The image triggered a flash of memories, putting themselves together in rapid succession, like a movie of Rissa as he’d seen her, or imagined her, over the years. Shade walked deeper, pushing the images forward to the front of his brain, and what he saw was rather entertaining. The President had dreamed of her more than a few times. He liked her tits, and he fantasized of fucking her ass. Well, well, well, why don’t we just intensify this little fantasy a bit more and give you all the ammo you need, Mr. President.
Shade let Rissa walk into his dream naked. She dropped to her knees and sucked his cock like an expert, swallowing him whole. Ashton’s body began to respond as his cock rose in his pajamas. Shade filled his dream with the sounds of her sucking and licking, the sensation of her hands, lightly raking his balls. Ashton moaned in his sleep and thrashed around lightly, kicking the sheets free. In the dream, he had Rissa take him to the edge of orgasm, then pull back, letting his rigid cock slip from her mouth. She looked up at him with big blue eyes and gave him a wicked smile. Ashton groaned in his sleep, as Rissa slid his slick, wet cock between her full breasts. Rissa pushed her breasts together as he thrust hard, reaching orgasm and spilling his cum down her tits.
Ashton writhed in his sleep, but Shade kept the movie rolling in his head. He let Rissa push him back on the bed, as she lifted her breasts to her mouth, and licked his thick cum from her nipples and smeared the rest over her body. She undulated before him, hips grinding and tits jiggling, taunting him.
Shade let the President take control of the dream, allowing him to take it where he wanted to go. Ashton pulled her onto the bed, rolling her face down, with her ass in the air as he mounted her and slammed into her ass in one swift motion. She responded with screams of pleasure and begging him for more. Ashton fucked her hard and long, his erection lasting endlessly.
Ashton slapped her ass and her moans of intense pleasure jacked him up even more. Ashton could feel the sting of the slap against his own hand, as it traveled straight to his cock and he came inside her again.
Shade pushed the dream, until Ashton had abused every orifice, and Rissa responded with wanton pleasure, always begging him for more. Shade put the sequence of events into replay, and let it run over and over in his mind, with slight variations.
The President was going to wake up a very happy man and have one hell of a good day. He stayed around for a while, making sure the sequence would keep him stirred. Dreams could be powerful influencers. They could plant seeds of desire, and could be addictive, and this one had more juice than most. He heard something stirring in the hall, voices speaking softly, and he glanced quickly to the window to see dawn was fast approaching.
He took a last look at the man lying in the bed. The President’s body still gyrating and the wet spot on his pajamas a good sign. He teleported directly out and headed straight for Bel Rosso. He needed a shower. He felt dirtier than after a night of battle and was disgusted by the images he’d created. He stood under the hot water, letting the images wash down the drain, as he replaced them with visions of adding California to his territory.
15
Shade moved quietly, shadowing his presence, and blocking bel for the second night of dream walking with the President. He wandered through the vast famous house tonight before heading to the President’s bedroom, taking a private tour. He looked at the portraits displayed throughout the house of each of the mortal men who’d lived here and stood before the portrait of Thomas Jefferson. He’d met Jefferson on several occasions, back in 1785, before Jefferson became President. He’d been the Ambassador to France, and the young emissary from America was looking to expand trade relations with Europe, in a deal that would exchange tobacco for wine. Shade remembered giving him several clippings from his Tuscan vineyards to be taken back to Jefferson’s native Virginia and planted at Monticello. Shade never saw the young statesman again, but he didn’t miss the irony of the fact his own estate now lay only a few miles from Monticello.