by Dark Angel
Does she think I was born yesterday? I wave her off with a flick of my wrist and find myself clenching my jaw, but quickly relax it. I need to stay cool and calculated. I can't lose my shit right now. Between these two women trying to fill my head with what I should and shouldn't do, and the media hounding me day and night, I don't know what's worse. I need to shut them all out.
Right. One thing at a time. I stand up.
"I think you should leave whichever way you came in, Ms. Ling," I say coldly.
I look at the dark-haired Tina with a look in her eyes that says she's full of secrets.
"Are you sure?" she asks, taking a step closer to me. She doesn’t pay any attention to Michele as she places a hand and runs it down my bicep. Like she doesn’t exist. "It might be so much more enjoyable if we…collaborated?"
Don’t think that I’m not tempted. Take the easy way out. Sell out. A few favors here. A few strings there. And maybe whoever the puppet masters behind Tina are can help me make this all go away.
And I’d never be able to look at myself in the damn mirror again.
"Like I said, I think you should leave," I say coldly. "Quite frankly, I don’t trust you. And I need people around me whom I can trust."
There’s a flash of anger in Tina’s eyes. It gets past the affected sexual stare. But just as quickly, she suppresses it.
"You’ll remember this moment when you’re drowning, Governor," she says to me. "You’ll remember I offered you a life raft and you spit in my hand."
And then she turns and walks away.
There’s a pause and I look at Michele.
"Listen, I need to sort things out. So in the meantime, no calls," I say. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
Michele nods. "What do you want me to do?" she asks me.
What do I want her to do?
What do I even want to do? Look out for number one? Protect my signature piece of legislation?
I need to reset. Before I ever let Liam get under my skin by telling me to go fuck myself.
But how?
I begin to think.
* * *
I set up a press conference, and within a few hours, I find myself standing at a podium in front of a crowd of attendees. The atmosphere is tense. Everyone's shifting their gaze from me to the crowd around them, and back again. I know I need to choose my words wisely.
"Thank you all for joining me today, especially under such short notice. I'm sure it's no surprise to any of you that there have been outlandish claims being made in the media against me. I urge you all to not fall prey to this fake news. I'm standing here today to set a few things straight."
I take a pause and look around the room for an added dramatic effect.
I continue, "There's something that I want to publically say for the record. I will not be making any deals with Mayor Liam Jeffries."
A reporter speaks, "But what about the 10,000 jobs? Are you saying that you won't be backing the five factories that Mayor Jeffries proposes?"
"That's correct," I say. "I care deeply about the people of New Kingston, and I feel that the best way forward is to not repeat the past. We need to think beyond factories."
The reporter asks again, "But if you cared so much about the people, you should care about their jobs, shouldn't you?"
"There will be other jobs," I assure the reporter. "The bottom line is that laws are set in place for our protection."
There are few inaudible mumblings and I continue, "What is law needs to be respected and followed. How do you suppose the world would operate if everyone viewed themselves as rogue cowboys? Well, I'll tell you. It would be chaos. Legislation shields us from that pandemonium. And the environmental legislation was set up to protect not just the current citizens of New Kingston, but all of the people of this state. Because of this undying belief, Mayor Jeffries' factories will not be built."
Just then a voice interrupts me. "That's not the deal we had."
Now everyone is talking and the room is in disarray. Liam Jeffries is approaching the podium and he continues, "Why don't you tell everyone what's really going on?"
There are audible gasps coming from the audience. The room is now filled with shocked faces, mouths opening and closing like fish caught on a line. What the fuck is Liam doing here? It figures that he'd come here and try to steal the publicity.
"You talk a big game, Mayor," I snap. "It's just too bad that you don't give a shit about this city."
Liam throws his arms up in the air in an exaggerated pose. "Oh come on, Carter. Is that the best you've got? It's amazing how quickly you change face. Publically, you tout the law, but behind closed doors?" He pauses and looks around the audience for emphasis and addresses them now. "Behind closed doors, Governor Andrews was making deals with myself and Senator Hawthorne."
More gasps erupt from the audience. One reporter chimes in, "Governor, is this true?"
"Of course it's true," Liam responds before I can even speak. "Governor Andrews was making deals well before he decided to sabotage me here, in front of all of you."
"Ridiculous!" I shout. Enough is enough. Liam's had his say, and now I'm going to shut him up for good.
"For all of your altruistic talk," I say into the microphone, "You're one of the most anti-humanitarian people I've ever encountered. Here you are, poised to ruin our city with smog and toxic run off, ultimately bringing more harm than good to the people of New Kingston."
With that, Liam's entire body language changes and he charges the podium, running at me full speed. One security guard steps in front of him. "I can't let you go beyond this point," he says, waving one hand up. Liam slaps his hand out of the way and proceeds. A second security guard places his body in front of him, and Liam pushes him. The security guard stumbles back, tripping under his own weight, and just as Liam approaches me, a third security guard gets in between us. "Sir, I have to ask you to step back," the security guard commands. "Step away from the podium."
The guard looks intimidating. His neck is as thick as a fire hydrant, but Liam doesn't give a shit. He barrels through him and gets right in my face. I can practically feel his breath on me.
"Fuck you Carter," he says. Before I can react, he cocks his arms back and releases it into my face, which is the last thing I'm expecting. His fist smashes into my left eye; it leaves a white-hot searing pain, and while I'm shocked, my immediate reaction is to kick his ass. Fuck him. If he thinks he can storm in here and push me around, he's mistaken. Enough is enough.
I don't say another word and I reach back. Now I have momentum and I hit him in his jaw. Maybe that'll shut him up, I think. But he's furious and it only spurs him on. He tries to hit me again, and I dodge him, swinging at him another time, and then another. I feel like I can't stop for a moment. Before I know it, we are a tornado of arms and legs, swirling around the podium. I feel a seam in my coat rip, and that only pisses me off more.
As we are tumbling—knees and elbows hitting the floor—our bodies bump into the podium and it topples into the audience with a crash of the wood against hard floor. You can hear the static of the microphone pop and give off a squeal of static feedback. I vaguely hear some people scream, but my focus is on Liam. Every muscle fiber is poised to take him down. My pulse is racing and my entire body feels like it’s on fire, from the anger coursing through my veins, to the thumping pulse in my temple.
"Admit it," I say, through gritted teeth.
"Admit what?" Liam asks. "Admit that you're going to fucking lose this battle?"
"No, admit that you and Vivian were conspiring against me!" I yell, swinging for him again and connecting with his shoulder.
"Ha! Is that what you think, Carter?" Liam snaps. "You're the one with conspiracies. Why are you making things so much harder than they need to be?"
Just then, two police officers jump on the stage.
"Break it up," one officer says, spreading his arms between Liam and I. "Step away from each other!"
We're still breathing heavy,
but we've stopped fighting. Another officer steps behind Liam and places his arms in handcuffs.
"We're taking you in," the officer commands.
I step back and brush the hair from my eyes. Liam looks at me with a gaze that flashes pure anger.
"Not this again," Liam mutters, lifting his gaze to the ceiling. He turns to me and asks, "When will you learn, Carter?"
As I watch the officer escort him out of the building I wonder, learn what?
Liam
"There's someone here to see you," the guard says. "Looks like you're being released." He says this as I'm tracing the swollen lumps on my face with the tips of my fingers. I can't fucking believe Carter had the nerve to throw me under the bus in front of all those people—in front of the fucking media! It was downhill after that. Everyone fucking knows that. But did you really think I was going to fucking stand there and take it? No way in fucking hell. I'm just glad I'm getting out of this place. I swear, if one more nut job was going to approach me, I think I was going to lose my shit. Being thrown in jail for a second time wasn't—and still isn't—on my fucking agenda. I have better fucking things to do with my time, like maybe give Carter another fucking piece of my mind.
"Looks like you've had better days." I hear a velvety voice behind me and I turn around, seeing Vivian. Gorgeous Vivian with her blonde hair cascading down her face and shoulders, and her perfect curves highlighted in a small, strappy dress. Fuck, can a woman be any more perfect? Seems unlikely, and like I said, I don't use the word 'perfect' often. I'm glad to see her. I mean it, and not just because she's bailing me out of this fucking place—although that helps. In fact, I've never wanted to see someone so badly in my life. She's exactly what I need to get my mind off of all the shit that transpired over the last fucking day.
"Let's get out of here," she says, motioning us to the door.
"Vivian, my intention wasn't to turn Carter's press conference into a media circus. I hope you know that. I just—"
She stops me mid-sentence, placing one of her delicate fingers across my lips. "You don't need to explain. I know."
Feeling her touch—her skin on mine, sends a jolt down my spine.
"There' a limo waiting for us outside," she says, and sure enough, as soon as the glaring sun of the day hit our eyes, I see the black limo waiting for us by the curb. We both walk over to it, open a back door, and slide into the long leather seat. She tells the driver to take us to her apartment, and he nods approvingly without question.
"Your place?" I ask. I thought maybe she'd want to go straight to the office.
"Oh come on, do you really think you can go back to your office—or even your own apartment right now? You know there will be a frenzy of reporters vying to snap pictures and to get you to explain what happened back there at Carter's press conference. They're out for blood and just like wild animals; they can smell a drop of it a mile away. Liam, you pushed past three security guards and toppled a podium into a crowd of people, remember? Do you really want to have to explain that right now?"
When she says this, my temple throbs. I realize I have a fierce headache, and I know she's right. The press conference was a mess. It didn't look good. I need to lay low, at least for the moment. And looking at Vivian right here and now, the tops of her perfect breasts spilling out of her dress, her perfume and the warmth of her body sitting next to mine—I have a sudden urge to touch her. It may not be the perfect moment, but it's the truth, and going to her apartment seems like the best possible outcome after spending an afternoon in jail.
We arrive at her apartment and I follow her in. It's a nice place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. The space is clean and modern with hardwood floors. I can hear Vivian's heels clicking as she walks. I look out across the city buildings—some flooded with light, and some dark, some big, and some small, and everything in between—a city filled people going about their lives. What are they thinking? What are they all doing while I sit here with bumps and bruises and a throbbing head—okay, two throbbing heads, but one is in my pants? My reverie is cut short when Vivian turns on her flat screen TV and the local news appears. We both freeze and look at the screen.
"Impeachment hearings in the city against Mayor Liam Jeffries are scheduled to commence today," a reporter says into the camera. "Lawmakers will bring formal charges against the Mayor to determine whether or not he should remain in office. The big question still lingers; has Mayor Jeffries abused his power in office? Has he really sold out the very people he pretends to befriend? Weigh in, and let us know your thoughts on Twitter using the hashtag #ImpeachJeffries."
"I had nothing to do with this," I tell Vivian, shaking my head. "This is ridiculous. It's all lies."
"What you did or didn't do doesn't matter," she says, waving me off with the flick of her wrist. "People will believe what they want to. Let the media turn this whole thing into a spectacle. Let them turn it inside out. But right now, drink this. I'm turning the news off."
I watch Vivian from the edge of her sofa. I sit back, leaning into the leather. She walks over to me and hands me a glass of amber liquid—bourbon with a single over-sized ice cube. It never fails, she always fucking knows exactly what I like. I grab it in one hand and swallow the fiery liquid in a single gulp. It leaves a warm trail in the pit of my stomach and my body relaxes. I look over at Vivian and want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and pull her into my lap.
"Here's an idea," I say with a smile. "How about I give you a kiss, and no pressure, but if you don't like it, you can just return it. Simple enough, right?"
"Clever," she purrs, sitting next to me on the sofa. With her legs slightly open, I steal a glance at that dark and secret cavern. Her face is now close enough to mine that I could lean in and kiss her. I can feel the electricity of her nearness coursing through my body. I want her, and I want her now. But she pulls back, eyeing me with caution.
"With you facing a possible impeachment, I think I can do better than fraternize with the likes of someone such as yourself," she says. There's a sarcastic and teasing spark in her eyes, and a smile tugging at the corner of her red and glossy lips. Her lips are ripe for the taking, but I decide to play along.
"Is that so?" I ask, looking her up and down, her body posture nearly leaning into mine. My cock is coming to life and struggling against my suit pants.
"You know something?" I ask. " I've got to hand it to you—you sure know how to raise a man's cock. I'm not one to always make accurate weather predictions, but I'd definitely say that you can expect more than just a few inches tonight."
"Well, look who's found himself and his corny lines again," she purrs. "You've always been a cocky one."
"Is it such a bad thing that I want to bend you over this sofa right now?"
"You tell me," she purrs. I watch as her body language tells me a thousand words.
I extend my arm and stroke her blonde hair with my fingertips, and then grasping behind her head, I knot strands of her hair in my hand. With a tug, I pull her head back. Her mouth opens and I lean in, first kissing the corner of her lips, while her hot breath mixes with mine. Our tongues meet, sinking into each other. My lips curl into a smile. This is exactly what I fucking wanted. And now that we're here—like this—nothing else matters. "We shouldn't do this," she whispers, pulling away a few inches from my mouth.
"Who fucking says?" I ask, leaning in closer—so close that my lips are grazing hers again. "If it feels right, that's all that matters." I kiss her again, this time taking her bottom lip in between my teeth, and running fingers down her neck. She places her hands on my cheeks and throws her head back. I smile, kissing the length of her neck until I reach her collarbone. I hear her moan and I can feel her shiver under my touch. I bring my hands down past her shoulders. The heat of her body, and the soft touch of her skin only adds fuel to my desire. I move my hand to her warm thighs. Her legs open under my touch, and I push my fingers against her skin and under the fold of her dress.
"Take me," she purrs, as both of our bodies melt into one of desire.
Vivian
I stand in front of him, my mind grinding to a halt. Whenever desire starts to flow through my veins, it’s hard to think straight. Domination, submission—two opposite concepts that turn into something almost impossible to grasp whenever my eyes find Liam’s.
Since I was a little kid I had this rebel streak inside of me. Everyone told me to behave like a little girl, to be nice and polite to everyone. To submit. Of course, what I always did was pretty much the opposite of that. To punching young kids in the nose and refusing to go into a more feminine career (whatever that means), I always chose the road less travelled by. I never submitted to anyone, and I always refused to be treated like a young little girl. It just wasn’t me.
But as Liam closes the distance between us, his fingers tangling themselves in my hair… Right now I can’t help but feel like a little girl, more than willing to submit to the strong man in front of me. And, with Liam, it feels right.
"I don’t know what the hell you did to me," he whispers, grabbing locks of my hair and pulling on them, forcing me to bare my neck. "But I can’t stop thinking about you…" He lays his lips on my neck, kissing me all the way to my chin. "I can’t stop thinking about your naked body… About the way you moan when I’m inside of you."
"These sound like good things to think about," I say, running my tongue over my lower lip.
"They are, aren’t they?" And, with that, he presses his mouth against mine. We brush lips slowly, our kiss growing wilder and wilder with each passing second. When our tongues meet, I feel a stab of ravenous desire in my heart, an almost violent need to submit and obey the man in front of me. To let him lead me into Pleasure Land.
"I want you to fuck me," I whisper against his ear, my lips brushing against his skin, "as hard as you can. I want you to use me, Liam. I’m yours." As the words leave my lips, my heart starts to race at a hundred miles per hour, my insides clenching as my brain tries to comprehend what I’m really volunteering for.