The knock snapped them both out of their fevered haze.

Adeline jerked back from Tess’s lips, her breathing ragged, her cheeks flushed a deep, telltale pink. Her hands, still tangled in Tess’s shirt, clutched tighter, as if refusing to let go even though reality was slamming itself against the door.

Another knock, more insistent.

Tess blinked, then looked over Adeline’s shoulder toward the door. “Relax,” she whispered with a cheeky grin, brushing her thumb over Adeline’s trembling hand. “It’s probably the maid. I, uh…” she chuckled sheepishly, “I might’ve ordered some pies and cakes.”

Adeline stared at her, half-horrified, half-impressed. “You ordered dessert?”

“Presidential breakfast wasn’t enough,” she teased with a wink. Then she gently pried Adeline’s fingers from her shirt and whispered, “Go hide in the bathroom, Madam President, before you cause an international scandal.”

Adeline realised just how bad this could look, nodded quickly, darting toward the bathroom with quick, barefooted steps, disappearing behind the door just as the knocking came again, louder this time.

Tess smoothed down her wrinkled clothes, took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.

But it wasn’t a maid.

It was Cressida.

Tess froze.

Cressida, in a pristine white designer dress that screamed I don’t know how to suffer, stood there with a basket of neatly arranged pastries. Her bright green eyes widened at the sight of Tess, hair slightly tousled, lips swollen from Adeline’s kiss, and wearing nothing remotely formal.

“Oh,” Cressida said, her voice clipped, almost brittle. “I must have the wrong room.”

Tess recovered quickly, offering a lazy, polite smile. “Nope, right room. Can I help you?”

Cressida’s brows twitched. She clutched the basket closer to her chest like a shield. “I was looking for Secretary Martin,” she said, her tone a little too sharp, a little too curious. “He said he was here.”

Tess leaned casually against the doorframe, her body a perfect shield hiding the slight crack where Adeline’s bare feet were still barely visible from the bathroom.

“Yeah, he’s… uh, out. Gave me the room so I could sleep off the jetlag.” Tess yawned dramatically, selling the lie. “You know how it is.”

Cressida’s sharp gaze swept the room behind Tess, and for a moment, Tess was sure the redhead had caught the scent of Adeline’s expensive shampoo lingering in the air.

“I see,” Cressida said slowly. Then, after a beat, she smiled deeply, suspiciously. “Well. Enjoy your… pastries.”

Before Tess could answer, Cressida turned on her heel, heels clicking harshly against the polished floor as she stormed off without so much as a goodbye.

Tess watched her leave, shut the door quickly, and leaned her forehead against it, exhaling a long, long sigh.

“That,” she muttered, “was way too close.”

From the bathroom, Adeline’s muffled voice floated out: “Who was it?”

She turned, grinning mischievously. “Just your old flame. No big deal.”

The bathroom door cracked open and Adeline’s scandalised face appeared.

“What?!“

Tess only laughed, long, loud, and reckless as she walked back toward her.

*

Adeline’s heart ached even as her mind calculated the cost of every move. She stood for a moment, torn between her duty and her want for the woman in front of her.

“I hope this doesn’t offend you,” Adeline said softly, eyes shining with emotion. “But I’ll make it clear to her that I don’t… like her. That I never really did.”

Tess tilted her head slightly, studying her. Then, after a moment, she gave a small nod, her voice light but edged with something deeper. “Why don’t you just end it?” she suggested casually. “You don’t have to mention me.”

Adeline’s brows drew together. “You two already met,” she said, sighing heavily. “How will I explain this?”

Tess smirked, reaching out to lightly tug a strand of Adeline’s dark hair. “Simple. I’m Martin’s old classmate from kindergarten. As far as you know,” she winked, “I’m not here.”

Adeline stared at her for a heartbeat before she chuckled tiredly, nodding. “That’s ridiculous,” she murmured. “And perfect.”

Stepping forward, Adeline slid her arms around Tess’s waist and pulled her in, burying her face into Tess’s shoulder. Her voice was a raw whisper, meant only for them. “I want so badly to have you wrapped around me. But I have to continue being the president.”

Tess smiled against her skin and pressed a slow kiss to her neck, her lips feather-light, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

“I’m sure,” Tess whispered, her mouth brushing the sensitive shell of Adeline’s ear, “we can make this quick… but you’ll be smelling like me when we’re done.”

Something inside Adeline snapped, some last thread of restraint she had been clinging to out of duty.

Her eyes burned brighter, mischief and hunger swirling in their depths.

She scooped Tess up effortlessly, making the smaller woman squeal in surprise. Tess instinctively wrapped her legs around Adeline’s waist, clinging to her neck with a breathless laugh.

Adeline carried her to the bed, dropping them both down with a bounce, hovering above Tess as she stared down at her; her queen, her anchor, her heart.

“No,” Adeline said fiercely, pinning Tess’s wrists above her head with one hand, her lips ghosting over hers. “You’ll smell like me.”

The look in her eyes promised no mercy and Tess, smiling wide and wicked, surrendered gladly.