It was late.
There had been a lockdown earlier in the day, but it had been called off by two in the afternoon. Most people had fled the building as soon as possible in the early evening, but the Senior Staff had hung around. Too tired to do serious work and too frazzled to think about going home yet, they lurked around the hallways and bullpens.
Leo and the President were off having dinner in the Residence—it was highly doubtful that either of them would need any of the gang that night, especially if Abbey returned from Madrid on time. That left the ghosts free to haunt the West Wing as they would.
CJ and Toby had been sequestered at her end of the bullpen for some time when the call came into Josh’s office.
“Party. My office. Get your asses in here.”
Josh was in a whiney kind of mood. “Why do we never hang out in my office?”
“Does your office have couches?” CJ deadpanned.
“No.”
“Ask Donna where she wants to be.”
By the time he looked up, Donna was already out the door and barrelling down the hallway to CJ’s. “I’m coming!” she yelled.
Josh put down the phone. “Right.” He waited only a few more seconds before following Donna out the door—he did his best to convince himself that it was just because he was a slow mover and not because he wanted to watch his assistant from behind.
It didn’t work.
CJ’s office looked as it had on election night. The room was dim, almost verging on dark; CJ’s lava lamp was on her desk and the lights in the room were covered with red, blue and purple silk. Tea candles shimmered throughout the room. Josh worried that he and Donna might be interrupting one of CJ’s illicit late-night dates until he noticed all the booze lying around, Larry and Ed playing cards and Carol with her heels up behind the desk.
“This is going to be quite the party,” he mumbled.
CJ looked up at the Deputy Chief of Staff lurking about her doorway. “I think we all need it. It’s been a day. And it’s been too long since we just—you know—let down for a bit.”
Toby made big gestures using his scotch glass. “Enter. Drink. Now.”
Once people were settled, CJ took her seat atop the desk, perched with legs crossed and arms splayed out behind her. Just before saying anything, she looked quickly back at Ainsley.
“It is safe me for to sit on this like this, right? This isn’t wobbling?”
“How good is your crazy glue?” Ainsley asked pointedly.
“I hate that answer,” she muttered. “Anyway, I’ve sent the calls out, so we should be expecting a few more faces.”
Josh sat down next to Donna on the couch and reached for a Corona. “Any limes?”
“None,” Toby piped up before sipping more of his scotch.
Josh made a face. “How can people drink Corona without limes? It’s not natural.”
Donna patted his arm. “Be a man and tough it out.”
“I’ll remember that the next time they forget to put malt in your chocolate shake.” Rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair, he leaned back into the plush cushions. “Man! It has been one long day.”
Larry smiled from where he sat, cross-legged, near the goldfish and fished around in one of the bags strewn about here. “Here, have another beer.”
“Don’t mind if I do. Anyone else feel like getting tanked?”
Leaning over, Donna whispered in his ear. “I don’t think anyone else here can get tanked off of only two beers.”
“That’s two, Donna. Two strikes. One more and I’m not going to be responsible for the consequences.”
“I’m trembling. Really.”
There was a quick knock on the door and a familiar face peeked in. “Is this a private staff thing or can anyone join the clambake?”
“Sam!” A general chorus of cheers went up around the room. Toby lit a cigar, grinning from ear to ear.
CJ held up a finger, her face deadly serious. “Where’s the booze?”
He held up his hand. “Right here.”
“A paper bag? Classy. You may enter, Congressman Seaborn.”
“I thank you.”
Sauntering into the fray, Sam left his liquid libations on the desk and sat down next to Josh and Donna on the couch. The extra body on the sofa caused Donna to edge closer to Josh. His leg, encased in his casual jeans, felt warm against her bare skin not covered by her skirt.
Drinks flowed fast and free for the next hour, as did the conversation. Ainsley moved across the room and sat down next to Sam; with four people on the couch, Donna felt that she was almost in Josh’s lap, but he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t say anything about it, at least.
Sometime during her third beer, Donna began to think quietly about the dream she had had the night before. It had been something that involved her straddling Josh in a university lecture hall—the amphitheatre style kind. They had been all alone in a room that normally held three-hundred people. The chairs were wooden, with hard backs that had splintered along the tops after far too many feet had rested on them.
While toying with the neck of his t-shirt, she had explained to him why he should fuck her—now. The whole time she had been rubbing up against his crotch and his ever-hardening cock. His thighs had looked and felt sublime—hard and lean and lightly furred and wonderfully bare beneath a pair of khaki shorts.
One of his hands was on the curve of her hip, anchoring her to him while his other hand ran up and down along her back, teasing her ever closer to him.
He had been just about to give in to her erotic demands when her third grade teacher had burst into the room, taken up position down by the lectern and started yelling at Donna in French.
And Donna didn’t speak French.
The vision of a rampant, foreign-tongued Mrs Holden had killed Josh’s erection beneath her and ended the dream. Donna had awoken flustered, embarrassed and very frustrated.
She still felt flustered, come to think of it. CJ’s words from a few days ago filled her thoughts—should she get away from anything having to do with Josh Lyman? He had consumed her dreams for years, the only place she let her inner yearnings have free reign.
Now, sitting next to him, when he was wearing his sexy jeans and an untucked dress shirt, she felt the forbidden itch run through her, from her toes to the tips of her fingers and all places in between. A crinkle appeared on her brow as she tried to control the rush of arousal at the juncture of her thighs.
“Donna!” Josh hissed. “Stop squirming!”
“Sorry.”
“What’s with you tonight? Do you have ants in your pants or something?”
She looked back at him, reaching for some kind of quick misdirection. “Tell me again about the time you slipped on the floor of the Hill?”
“Point taken,” he muttered, taking another long slug of beer.
Donna settled back on the couch. If she had sandwiched herself slightly closer to Josh and his tight jeans and manly smelling shirt, she dismissed it immediately.
“I’ve got wine!” Carol shouted as she slipped back into the room. Truth be told, no one had noticed she had left. She brandished a corkscrew like it was a prize trophy. “Donna?” she asked, reaching for the hidden stash of glasses behind the TV.
“Yup. Pour me some.”
CJ laughed. “It’s official folks. Donna has started mixing her drinks: the party has begun.” Everyone settled in for a long night of easy drinking and easier conversation.
It was about this time that Josh took it upon himself to liven up the party. The only problem was that his sensitive system didn’t feel like moving about the room just yet. Feeling nicely lethargic and more than a little buzzed, he leaned across his assistant, doing his best to ignore the gentle thrust of Donna’s breasts near his face, and punched Sam on the arm.
“Come on, Mr Congressman. Tell us about your life in the halls of power.”
Sam laughed. “Are you saying that you’re no longer a power player?”
“Never!”
Leaning back against the couch, Sam looked at his beer. “Did you know that in Ontario—”
“They shoot a lot of deer?” Josh snarked. Donna’s hand connected with the back of his head before he could duck.
“Shut up.”
“Ow!” he whined, rubbing his abused cranium.
“Shut up,” she repeated. Smiling brilliantly at Sam, she gave Josh one last look as a none-too-subtle warning.
“Anyway,” Sam continued, “the people in Ontario have to buy their alcohol from some government-run store. We could make a killing just from this room if we did the same thing.”
“It’s called the LCBO,” Donna said.
Josh looked at her, scrunching up his face. “How do you know that?”
“I went on road trips in college.”
“I’m amazed you had the time,” he smirked, thinking of all her majors. That earned him another slap upside the head.
Toby saluted Donna’s aim. “Nice one.”
“Okay,” Josh declared, “we need to do something where I’m not going to be hit anymore.”
“How about hit on?”
Everyone slowly turned to look at CJ, still perched atop her desk. There was something mischievous about the set of her eyes and the corners of her mouth. If ever there was a look of a cat having eaten the canary, CJ owned it.
“Say that again?” Josh squeaked.
“How about being hit on?” Balancing an empty beer bottle on the tip of her finger, the White House Press Secretary smiled at her assembled guests. “Carol, do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I totally know. And I highly approve.”
Sam shook his head, not understanding. “What’s going on?”
“How drunk are you?”
“Fairly.”
“Drunk enough to do something stupid but fun?”
Josh leaned back, smiling broadly. “Stupid but fun? I’m in.”
“Oh dear,” Donna sighed.
“Exactly what are you thinking, CJ?”
She nodded at the bottle in her hand. “Let’s play.”
Josh’s eyes became as large as saucers. “Spin The Bottle?” he sputtered. “You want to play Spin The Bottle? Seriously?” A slow smile crept across his face as he thought of all the possibilities that might ensue.
Sam’s eyes were bright too, but he was quick to hold up a hand and grab everyone’s attention. “There’s just one rule,” he pressed. “Whatever is done in the room stays in the room.”
“He’s right,” Toby nodded, before taking another puff on his cigar.
“Are you in?” CJ asked, craning a look over her shoulder at the White House Communications Director. “Because if you are, I would put out that cigar; otherwise, I’m going to call an automatic re-spin if I land on you.”
“I don’t think I’m that drunk yet…but I’ll watch.”
“Quite the voyeur, aren’t you?” CJ winked. He didn’t say anything, but held her eyes for longer than was usual.
Ainsley noticed their wordless exchange and shook her head. “You two belong in a French movie,” she drawled in her South Carolina accent. “I’ve never seen two people use so many looks and something that works out to emotional telepathy in order to convey messages that would otherwise be said aloud by anyone else. Have you ever thought of moving to Paris and making this a professional thing?”
“Still having trouble with the verbosity, Ainsley?” Toby asked. The Southern Republican and New York City Democrat held each other’s eyes until Ainsley broke into a wide smile and moved a little closer to Sam.
CJ looked down, smiling, before collecting herself addressing rest of the group assembled in her office. “Let’s play.”
In the end, the circle consisted of CJ, Sam, Josh, Carol, Larry, Ed, Ainsley and Donna, with Toby watching from behind the desk. They were about to start when Josh realised that Donna wasn’t on the couch beside him anymore. He didn’t like that—not that he was about to question why. He hadn’t had enough to drink yet for thoughts like that.
“Donna! Get in here already.” Glancing backwards, he saw her lingering in the doorway, half in and half out of the room. “Donna?”
She shook her head so that her hair fell into her eyes. “I’ll be back. Sorry. I just—” Then she was gone, walking quickly out of Carol’s office.
“What’s with her?” Sam asked.
Josh shrugged, still looking at the doorway where she had disappeared. “I have no idea. Maybe I should—” He stood up, hands in his pockets, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
CJ made up his mind for him. “Go find her; but make sure you come back. I don’t want you to miss anything good.”
Grinning, Josh winked at her. “Ah-kay,” he smiled and then rushed out of the room.
Casting an eye over the bullpen, he noted that Donna’s purse and coat were still at her desk, so he knew she must be somewhere nearby. Taking a chance, he wandered down the hallway towards the ladies’ washroom.
He stuck his head in, but squeezed his eyes shut, for propriety’s sake if nothing else. “Donna! You in here?”
“Josh? I’ll be right out!”
“Right.”
Resting his back against the wall, he waited just outside the door, listening to the sound of running water and the hand-dryer blowing. As soon as the door opened, he launched into inquisitive mode.
“What’s going on? Are you feeling okay? Why did you just get up and leave like that? Donna, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you bolted like a scampering rabbit.”
“I am not a rabbit!” she huffed.
“Are you sure?”
Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Is that some kind of quip about my sex life?”
Josh knew his mouth was hanging open, but there was nothing he could do about it since his eyes were also bugging out of his head. His brain suddenly went on overload with a plethora of naked Donna images—and naked Donna images always got him in trouble. Her skin probably flushed a delectable shade of pink just before she climaxed. If she was riding above him, he could grab her hips and ease some of the rising ache with his lips sucking on the pert tips of her breasts.
And now he had a bigger problem—well, a very big problem if he did say so himself—because he had to do something to make sure Donna hadn’t noticed the sudden hardness nearly bursting out of his jeans.
“Donna! I didn’t mean it—not that kind of rabbit! Honest!”
“So I’m some undesirable pariah that no one would want to sleep with?”
His mouth hung open again before the alarm bells suddenly went off in his head. “I’m not falling for this,” he scowled. “You’re trying to trap me so that I can be a mouse to your cat and you can toy with me.”
“Now I’m a cat? That could go somewhere dangerous too…”
“You are not a cougar or a lynx and I swear to God that I was not talking about your pu—Ow! Donna, that’s my ear!”
“Are you going to stop now?” she asked, letting her nails bite slightly into the flesh of his ear lobe.
“Please,” he begged. His eyes were like a puppy’s just at that moment, all big and brown and knowing that he’d screwed up.
“All right,” she sighed, “you’re off the hook.” Josh breathed a huge sigh of relief and rubbed his ear.
“Back to my first thing. Why did you leave?”
“Follow me.” She led him into the press room, looking around before closing the door. Tucking her hair back behind her ears, she let her eyes fall on anything in the room except Josh.
“Why do you want to talk to me in here?”
“It’s empty.”
“Strangely so, I grant you. I take it you don’t want any press around to hear this?”
“Rather.”
Josh put his hands on his hips, obviously getting tired. “Donna, no more games. What’s this all about?”
“That’s just it,” she sighed, “it’s all about games.”
“What?”
Suddenly it all came out in a rush. “I hate that game—Spin The Bottle. I suck at it.”
Josh smiled and looked down at the carpet in the press room, his dimples winking at Donna. “Nobody sucks at it,” he laughed. “I mean, there were times back in grade school when—”
“Josh.”
“Right. Right, sorry. Talking about you now—I get it.”
Donna sat in the front row, tucking her hair behind her ears every ten seconds or so as she spoke. “I was awful at it. We always played at birthday parties in people’s basements. All the boys and girls would get in a circle and giggle and laugh and do whatever passes for pre-teen flirting.”
“That doesn’t sound all that bad.” He came and sat down in front of her on the edge of the stage.
“Josh. Please. No one ever wanted to kiss me.”
“Gimme a break.”
“No, I’m serious! If the bottle ever landed on me the guys got an automatic re-spin; if I landed on them, they would run to the other side of the room to get away. One time, Bobby Frances ran out of the house because he was so freaked out that he might have to kiss me. I had braces and I was on the floor hockey team and I was the smart girl in class—co-ed birthday parties were my nightmare.”
“Wait, you played floor hockey?”
“Josh.”
“Really, you played floor hockey? Donna! You were a goon and you never told me!”
She rolled her eyes at his sudden interest. “I wonder why it slipped my mind.”
“Did you ever hurt anyone?”
“Why? What have you heard?”
“That’s a yes!” he crowed.
“Shut up!” When he didn’t stop grinning from ear to ear, she punched him in the arm—hard.
“Violence becomes you,” he quipped, rubbing his arm. “My ear still has claw marks on it.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Forewarned is forearmed, Donna.”
“Anyway…” she began.
“Yes?”
“That’s why I don’t want to play. CJ might have good intentions—” She broke off, thinking better of it. “Actually, she has the worst of intentions, most likely, but I don’t want to have to go through any of that again. I left those memories behind after grade eight graduation—and that’s where I’d like them to stay. I have issues with that particular form of adolescent torture.”
Josh stopped and looked at his assistant, taking in her rosy cheeks, the way her hands seemed addicted to playing with her hair and slipping it behind her ears, her downcast eyes and the way her body seemed curled in a ball while she sat in the chair. He acted on his instincts before his conscience could kick in and tell him not to do it.
Putting a hand under her chin, he lifted her face until their eyes met. “Believe me, Donnatella,” he whispered, “those fears are now completely unfounded. Your teeth are straight, you’re lithe and athletic, you look killer in anything you wear—though I have a particular love for the formal gowns you come up with. Best of all, smart equals sexy around here, in case you missed that particular memo.”
She smiled, exhaling in a tiny snort. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you to say but…I don’t know. I still find it rather intimidating. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude. Nobody can beat me in bed—nobody! But this is, well, you know…and it’s all especially bad because I’m still mostly sober.”
“You’re still sober?” he asked, tucking away the ‘nobody can beat me in bed’ comment for later inspection.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologise.” Standing, Josh put his hands on his hips and looked down at her. “I think you’re being crazy about this Spin The Bottle stuff.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are. Christ, Donna! I would give my eye teeth to have my spin land on you.”
“What?”
For the second time in less than ten minutes, Josh’s eyes bugged out of his head. Very slowly, he went over what he had just said and then curled his fingers into his palm to stop from smacking himself in the head. That had been a bit of a giveaway. Fantastic.
“That was a bit unexpected,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Nevermind.”
“What? What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Josh!”
“Donna.”
“Josh…” she pressed.
A sudden smile lit up his face. Grabbing her arms, he leaned in and let his voice drop down to that range he saved just for these kinds of moments. “Come back with me,” he said softly, trying not to bounce on the balls of his feet. “If you hate it, you hate it and you can mock from the balcony with Toby.”
“Like Stantler and Waldorf?”
“Totally.”
“And what if I like it?”
“Then you stick the whole sob story about your braces and Bobby Frances in a box—but you do have to tell me about all the sports you ever played in school…and how many people you hurt doing it.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Kay?”
“I said ‘okay’ already,” she smiled.
“Good. Come on.”
********
The bottle spun round and round on the office floor. All eyes looked on as CJ bit her lip, wondering which way her luck would flow. The lip of the bottle stopped, pointing towards the doorway.
Ed straightened his tie and chuckled while Josh made a low, hungry wolf-whistle that immediately garnered a slant-eyed stare from his assistant.
Rolling her eyes, CJ crawled out from her position leaning against one of the legs of her desk—her shirt hanging more than slightly open as she neared her prey—and reached out for him. Congressman Seaborn never knew what his him as he locked lips with the mighty Ms Cregg. His arms came up to hold her close as the kiss continued on beyond what was considered normal for a game like this.
When it ended, CJ pulled back, all smiles, and winked at Sam. “My, my, Mr Seaborn. You do have hidden talents!”
“I aim to please,” he joked.
“I want to spin again,” she added huskily.
At this, Toby perked up from his place behind the desk. “Put the bottle down, CJ,” he warned. “Don’t make me come out there.”
“Ooo! I’ve been told.” Shuffling back on her knees, she nodded at Sam. “Your turn.”
The bottle spun round again, faster this time. Sam sat back on his haunches, wondering where it would land. When it landed on Josh, he shook his head. “Not a chance,” Sam muttered to himself. “I demand a re-spin.”
“Please!” Josh yelped.
Not waiting to for an answer from the group, Sam flicked his wrist. This time when the bottle stopped, the smile on his face was blissful. “Donna,” he whispered. “Come here.”
Shooting a quick glance at Josh, she willed her eyes not to widen or her hands to shake as Sam crawled toward her. For a brief second, she thought she saw Josh stiffen ever so slightly before Sam’s face became the only thing she could see. She didn’t even want to contemplate what she’d be feeling if Josh had won this spin; the butterflies for Sam were more than enough to make her rather dizzy.
She bit her lip and breathed deeply. Seeing her nervousness, Sam smiled and softly stroked her cheek just before his lips melded with hers.
His lips were soft, but the kiss had a definite edge to it. She could taste the bitter gold of his last beer and a slight minty undertone—had he popped a mint when she was off in the press room with Josh?
It was over before it really began and they both grinned at each other before Sam moved back to his place on the end of the couch.
When she looked at Josh, he was rubbing his hands against his jean-clad thighs. “Great!” he said a bit too loudly. “How about we play something else now?”
“But I haven’t spun yet!”
He shot her a look. “You want to keep going?”
CJ smirked. “Of course she does, Josh. Idiot boy.”
Making a face, he slouched back on the couch. “It was just a thought.” He began looking up at the ceiling while Donna reached out to grab the bottle. She didn’t know what was bothering him, but she certainly was not about to ask here.
Ed (or was it Larry?) smiled at her. “Go on,” he encouraged. “Give it a go.”
“Here goes,” she muttered, and let the bottle spin out from between her fingers. It went round and round—part of Donna wished it would never stop. Slowly it came to rest, pointing directly at CJ.
“Spin it again, Donna,” she said. “Second time lucky.”
This time she didn’t even watch to see who it landed on. The whole thing was ridiculous. She had been ridiculous. To think that she had been worried about a silly game!
But when a cheer went up from nearly everyone in the room, she looked and felt her jaw drop open. The bottle hadn’t just landed on Josh—it had hit him in the foot and still come round to point at him. Looking up at him, she met his eyes and paused, wondering what the hell would happen next.
Josh squirmed on the couch and banged his hands together. “Maybe we should stop now,” he said.
Donna felt like she had been punched in the gut. He wanted to stop? He didn’t want her? Of course he didn’t want her. Of course not. But still—what a bastard thing to do.
“You jerk!” she screeched, punching him hard on the leg. Everything in her told her to run out of the room, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of running after her like some kind of frigging hero—again. Not in this lifetime, pal.
He grabbed her hands, trying to tug her closer so that she would have to look at him. “Donna, no! I mean…it’s just…don’t get me wrong, I really want to. I REALLY want to—aw, hell.”
Letting her go, he threw his head back against the couch and covered his face with his hands.
CJ took over. “Maybe you’re right,” she muttered.
“I am?” Josh croaked.
“Yeah. We’re adults. Let’s play something more adult.”
Josh jerked upright, gulping. “Is that what I meant?”
The smile on CJ’s face was purely evil. Looking at Sam, she crossed her legs. “I’m thinking of a closet. What do you think, Congressman?”
“Perfect,” he agreed. “It’s only right.”
“What’s going on?” Donna asked.
“Seven Minutes!” CJ crowed in reply.
“What?”
Toby leaned forward from his spot behind the desk, waving his cigar around as he spoke. “I think what she’s referring to is ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’.”
Donna shook her head. “I don’t know what that is.”
CJ was on her feet in a second, grabbing things off her desk. “Who has a closet?”
“Not me,” Carol piped up.
Ed and Larry looked at each other and then at the group. “Never,” they said in unison.
Ainsley snorted. “Have you seen my office?” she drawled. “I admit, it’s a lot better than the last one, which was the worst the basement could offer, but I still don’t merit a closet. I think it’s an anti-republican thing floating around here, except none of you have one either.”
Suddenly CJ slapped her forehead. “Leo! Leo has a closet!”
“You want to move this into Leo’s office?” Toby asked, somewhat aghast.
“Why not? I’m bringing the lava lamp.”
“Knock yourself out,” he chuckled.
Finally Josh snapped back into reality. “What’s going on?”
CJ patted his head on her way out the door. “Come on. I’ll explain when we get there. But don’t worry—the same spin from last time will hold up.”
Josh and Donna looked at each other. “WHAT?”
********
The group decamped to Leo’s office in record time, even though Josh and Donna both slowed their footsteps, like condemned prisoners approaching the block. Looking over his shoulder, Sam smiled at the pair as he walked beside Ainsley. Then a look suddenly crossed his face and he hurried up to walk with CJ.
“I don’t know about this,” he muttered out one side of his mouth. “What if Leo finds out?”
CJ shook her head. “He’s off for dinner with the President, and then he’s been ordered to go home for the rest of the night. We’re safe as houses.”
“What about Josh and Donna?” he asked. “Things don’t seem exactly copasetic between them, if you haven’t noticed.”
Smiling, CJ patted Sam on the arm in what could only be called an omnipotent gesture. “Just call me Fairy Godmother #1, Sparky. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Well, then. May the bibbidi-bobbidi-boo be with you.”
Toby snorted as he walked past them and punched Sam in the arm. “Don’t mix your metaphors,” he quipped. Taking up his position behind Leo’s desk, the Communications Director noted the cushy surroundings. “Hmm,” he said, mostly to himself, “nice chair.”
Josh slunk in through the doorway, bringing up the rear. “Okay, we’re here. Under protest, I might add.”
CJ turned and leaned up against the wooden desk. “Right,” she said. “Donna’s last spin stands, but—as per your suggestion to switch things up a bit—the game has changed. Everybody remember the rules from public school?”
Carol, Larry, Ed, Sam, Ainsley and even Toby nodded. Josh and Donna looked like a pair of deer caught in the headlights.
“I’ve never even heard of this game!” Josh protested.
Donna laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t ask,” she whispered, but it was too late.
“Same premise as Spin the Bottle,” CJ explained, “but with benefits. The bottle lands on you, you and your partner go into the closet for seven minutes. No more, no less.”
Josh’s eyes widened substantially as he took in the implications of a darkened closet. “You’re kidding. You played this in public school?”
CJ shrugged. “Didn’t everyone? Donna?”
She blushed. “Let’s just say I never hung around birthday parties long enough to play.” Josh thought of their conversation in the press room and rolled his eyes. This would be humiliating.
“Well, we can fix that now!” Sam piped up.
Wincing, Josh mumbled, “Nice going.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Donna asked quickly. “I did a hell of a lot better in high school.”
“I think you mentioned that once before,” he smirked. “Sixteen, weren’t you?”
“Do you think now is really the time to discuss that?”
Clenching his jaw, he nodded. “Oddly enough, yes!”
CJ snapped her fingers and pointed towards the closet in the corner. “Game on, girlfriend!” she said. “There’s the closet; there’s the guy. Go to it.”
“And may God defend the right,” Sam added, striking what he thought was a patriotic pose with one hand clasped over his heart.
Josh’s eyes narrowed. “Sam? Shut up.”
“Whatever you say, Josh.”
“We’re waiting!” CJ said.
Taking charge of the situation, Donna grabbed Josh’s hand. “Come on,” she sighed. “Seven minutes?”
“You got it.”
A look of grim determination settled on her face. “Toby, set the clock.”
A general cheer went up. Just as they were closing the door behind them, Ainsley leaned forward conspiratorially. “Remember!” she said sotto voce. “You’re not allowed to pee in there.”
The look on Josh’s face as Donna pulled the door shut was classic.
********
It was stuffy inside the closet and pitch black. Oddly enough, there was a fair bit of room to move around—not that they’d need any of it. Donna had no plans whatsoever to touch Josh, unless it was to beat him to death. Seven Minutes in Heaven? More like Seven Minutes in Hell—a hell she would personally create for her insensitive, scared-frat-boy, completely clueless boss.
Feeling so pissed off, her throat was tight, she reached out in the darkness and pinched him—hard.
“Ow! What the hell?”
“Idiot!” she seethed. “Loser. How does it feel being Jerk of the Year?”
Josh put his hands up to defend himself, even though he couldn’t see anything. “Now, Donna, let’s be reasonable. There’s no need for violence.”
“Oh, I think there’s a need. How could you? After everything I told you back there—how could you be that way?”
He thought he’d try for misdirection. “What way? Ow!” His yelp was even louder this time. “Damnit, Donna! That wasn’t my arm!” The slight buzz of conversation outside the locked closet gave way to loud guffaws as the group heard his squeal.
“I’m waiting,” she said.
Hanging his head, he lowered his voice. “I dunno.” There was a long pause as he took a deep breath and drove his fingers through his hair. Someday there wouldn’t be any hair left near his temples and he’d have to find a new way to show his frustration—but that wasn’t today.
“I froze, okay? I was never great at Spin the Bottle either, you know. It was fine if it was just some girl I didn’t know, or didn’t care about but when it came to kissing someone…geez! Do you get what I’m saying here?” He stared out through the darkness, desperate to see her, but he couldn’t make out a damn thing—not even her pale hair or the white column of her throat. “I’m not saying it’s not my fault—and that’s a big concession, coming from me—”
There was a soft snort. “Don’t I know it.”
“Nice.” Suddenly he needed more contact than just her disembodied voice. He reached out to grab her hands. The first thing he found was her hips, but he felt his way out and up until he had her elbows and then slid his warm hands down to wrap around her fingers.
“Come on, Donna. Do you think I really wanted our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone? With you having to kiss me because of some stupid game or else you’d lose face? Damn! I have some pride, woman!”
There was another long, black pause.
“Woman?” she asked.
“Too much?”
“No.” He could hear her smile in the dark. “No, I kind of like it. It makes you sound really—manly.”
“I AM manly!”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” That was a challenge if he ever heard one. “I’ll show you maybe!”
Pulling on her wrists, he slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders, then moved one hand over to her throat so that he could find her face. With unerring precision, he lowered his mouth down onto hers.
It was feverish—it was primal—it was everything he had ever thought it would be and more. He sipped at her lips, moaning somewhere in the back of his throat as he discovered her taste. Then her mouth moved beneath his and his tongue slid past into the warm, wet haven she promised. His hands tangled up in her hair, pressing her close. Their heads switched from side to side, searching for the best fit possible, never separating for an instant.
Donna’s hands were trapped against his chest, palming his pectoral muscles, rubbing against his skin, making it hot through the thin material of his dress shirt. Unexpectedly, she pinched his nipple, making him react against her body. Unlike the previous times she had nipped him, this was sexy to the extreme. Josh immediately lengthened and rose, hot and hard, against her thigh. Changing the position of his hips, he rocked against her through his jeans, wanting nothing more than to be anchored deep within her sheath.
She was the first to break the kiss, leaning her head against the wall of the closet as Josh’s lips attached themselves to the side of her neck. Her hands drifted up to grip his locks of hair as his fingers busied themselves much lower down, pushing her skirt out of the way and tracing the outline of her sex through the sheer material of her panties.
“Ohmigod,” she breathed, arching into his hands.
He chuckled and breathed hotly onto the newly-moistened skin near the bottom of her neck. Rubbing a bit faster between her legs, he listened for her voice to hitch so he could know he was on the right track. Donna answered him in a different way, hooking her leg around his waist, opening herself more so that his fingertips skimmed along the edge of her underwear, teasing the outer edges of her tingling core.
“Donna,” he whispered, sipping at her earlobe. “Do you want me to—” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. She grabbed his face and now it was her kissing him. It was like having a living flame in his arms; she was everywhere, making him burn, and yet never anywhere long enough.
He slowed the pace of his fingers as they traced the slippery folds at the apex of her thighs. He longed to rip off her panties and bury his face in that salty-sweetness, but a small hint of propriety stopped him. There would be more than enough time for such things later—like, at his apartment that night, or on a lunch-break tomorrow when he would call her into his office and then make her scream again and again as her pleasure broke through her. Well, it was a thought, at least.
Latching onto the skin just below his ear, she sucked and nipped—leaving a hickey no doubt, he thought absently. “I’m close,” she panted. He thought those were the sweetest words he had ever heard.
Josh doubled his efforts, pushing past her underwear to touch her warmth, flicking and rubbing her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, everything changed and the slipperiness became creamy—Donna made a soft, high keening sound before letting her head fall back.
Then she was kissing him, sucking his soul out from between his lips. He’d never been kissed like that before. Normally he liked to be the aggressor, but he was happy now to turn things over to her; considering the high she was still on, who was he to protest?
For the second time in the space of a few minutes, Donna half-climbed up his body, this time with both legs wrapped around his waist. His hands cupped her bottom, grinding her against his almost painful erection.
“Oh my,” she gasped, feeling his iron length against the most sensitive part of her body.
The door-knob moved, causing them both to freeze in the midst of their activities. One of Josh’s hands flung out to hold the door closed. A muffled voice sounded from just beyond the door saying, “What the hell?”
Josh bent so that his forehead touched Donna’s. “CJ! It hasn’t been seven minutes yet!”
“What?”
“CJ! Get lost!” he yelled.
“Josh? Is that you in there? What the hell are you doing in my closet?”
If anyone could have seen through the darkness, they would have seen all the blood drain away from Josh Lyman’s face and then come rushing back an instant later in acute embarrassment. “Leo?” he squeaked.
“Yes. Expecting somebody else?”
Donna let herself slip down Josh’s body so that they were both standing on the floor. The problem with that was she had slowly moved her way down the length of Josh’s rigid cock, making him dizzy with pleasure, even as his stomach dropped out of his body.
“Follow my lead,” she whispered and reached to remove Josh’s hand from the inside door-knob.
The light of the office was bright after the absolute darkness of the closet, but Donna hardly batted an eyelash. “Hi, Leo!”
“Donna?” The Chief of Staff looked taken aback to say the least.
Josh followed her and scanned the office as he stepped onto the carpet. The room was completely empty, except for a very flummoxed Leo standing before them, his eyes bugging out of his head at Donna’s sudden appearance—and Josh’s too. There was no sign of CJ’s party; even the lava lamp had disappeared.
Donna handled Leo like a pro. “Did you have a nice dinner with the President? That’s good. Josh was trying to explain to me that you had an extra bathroom in your closet, which I didn’t believe for an instant, but then he started trying on your shoes and the door swung closed. You really should call maintenance so that they can work on that door-knob—it locks all on its own!”
Leo’s mouth hung open—so did Josh’s. Donna put a hand to her mussed hair, acting as if it was a Jackie O bouffant and yawned. “Oh well,” she continued, “I’m absolutely beat. I really should go home. Josh—don’t forget that you need to follow me back to my apartment tonight so that you can pick up that Stratton files for your meeting with Senator Hatch tomorrow. I’ll have everything ready by the time you get there.” Turning to Leo once more, she smiled like a true innocent. “Good night, Leo! Sleep well!”
She swept out of the room, leaving the two men standing together, speechless at her Oscar-worthy performance.
Josh was the first to snap out of it. “Right. Whatever she said, Leo. I’ve gotta go.” To say he ran out of the room wouldn’t quite be fair—it was more of a mad dash for freedom.
Leo didn’t move for a minute. He peered into the dark recesses of his closet and then shook his head, thinking better of it. Moving behind his desk, he stood, half-wondering why his chair smelled like one of Toby’s cigars, and picked up the phone.
“Hi, this is Leo McGarry. Can I have custodial services come to my office immediately? I need an exorcism performed—sorry; I mean my closet needs to be fumigated. Yes, that’s right. I don’t know—the strongest stuff you have down there. Great. Thanks.”
Hanging up, he sat down and looked around the room, scowling. “Someday,” he muttered to himself, “I’m going to write a book about all the things I never wanted to know about Josh Lyman.” Shivering once more, he packed up his briefcase and headed for the door.
He almost reached into the closet for his coat, and then thought the better of it.
FIN
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