Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong: A BWWM Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  “Let’s take this back to the bedroom,” he whispered.

  She nodded and followed him in letting the kimono slip off her shoulders as she approached the bed. She lay down on her side while Alex slipped his bottoms off. He stretched out on the bed next to her on his side. She moved closer to press her body into his, draping one leg around his thigh. His hand went around her neck as he brought her in to kiss her, French style.

  It was a natural progression as she intertwined her body into his, sloping one arm around him and pushing him on his back. She slipped one hand between them, to guide him inside of her. Her thighs came up as she opened herself to him, feeling him go deeper and deeper as they made love to Paris’s awakening.

  As the sun blinked an eye to the city, their cries could be heard through the open window as they came in unison.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  London couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “In retrospect, I owe your firm an apology, and a thank you for bringing this situation to our attention,” Representative Davis said, with a guilty, but ingratiating grin on his face.

  Her father and brother were more than happy to return the smiles. London wasn’t.

  It was Monday, a full week since she had first brought the scandals to his attention. Now he was finally coming clean—or cleaning house. This time it was Davis and a few upper level members of his staff sitting in the conference room…save for one.

  Dion Davis had arrived at the firm, hat in hand, to reveal that Clayton Moore was the individual who had been coordinating with the treasurer of the Summer Lunch Program fund, to transfer money to certain wealthy individuals who had lost their shirts with Siverion. Paperwork had been tampered with to make it look like the Summer Lunch Program fund had been invested with Siverion and simply suffered a case of bad luck, along with everyone else unfortunate enough to invest with them. Naturally, they had no idea of the names of the wealthy individuals that money had been transferred to.

  “Obviously, I had no idea what Clayton was up to. And to think, I made him my Senior Legislative Assistant.” Representative Davis shook his head with regret.

  It was almost believable.

  He was quick to recover. “But at least now we can work on dealing with this issue. Obviously he’s been fired, but we need to work on distancing ourselves from this…situation. The Summer Lunch Program is a big issue in Harlem, really all of New York. There are plenty of kids who aren’t getting fed because school is out. This program was supposed to help. I can’t have potential voters thinking I had anything to do with stealing funds from it.”

  “I completely understand, Dion,” her father said, nodding his head. This time the representative didn’t bother correcting the familiar form of address. “The first step is to put out a statement. Right now this thing is still under wraps, so we have the potential to get ahead of it and control the media. It’s good you came to us as soon as you found out.”

  After a whole week of stalling, and circling the wagons, London thought to herself.

  “Exactly,” said Dion, nodding his head in agreement. “I’ve done a lot for this community, and they need to be reminded of that. You just make sure I come out of this smelling like roses,” he warned Frank Jefferson.

  “Of course, Dion. We’ll be working on this all week long. By Friday your numbers will be higher than ever.”

  “As usual, I’m counting on this firm to do what it does best, help me get elected!”

  There was an appreciative ripple of laughter around the room. London continued to frown.

  “Well, I’ve got other meetings to attend to today. A candidate’s work is never done.” he gave a politician’s smile, as he got up from his seat. “You just let me know what you need from me. I’ve instructed Sean here,” he pointed to his Chief of Staff, “That you are priority number one. Anything you need, he’s there for you.”

  He shook each of the Jefferson’s hands as he passed on his way out of the room. When he got to London he stopped.

  “I finally heard about the break up. It looks like you dodged a bullet there,” he said with a smile, covering her hand with his in a way she was no longer quite comfortable with. “I always knew you were too good for him.”

  All London could do was give a tight lipped smile in return, hoping her lack of response would get him out the door quicker.

  She was no fan of Clayton’s, obviously, but everything about this mess was shady as hell.

  “You aren’t really buying this are you, Daddy?” London asked, once the three of them were alone.

  “It doesn’t matter whether I buy it or not, London,” her dad sighed, obviously agreeing with her. “He’s our client and we have to work with what he gives us.”

  “Even if it’s obviously a lie?” she pressed.

  “Now we don’t know that for a fact, London,” he countered. “We’re obviously not getting the whole truth here, but we still have an obligation to represent Dion to the best of our abilities.”

  “Okay fine. Let’s start with the obvious holes here,” she said. “How would Clayton even have those kinds of connections in the first place? Do we even know who these people were he supposedly helped?”

  “He’s a top level staff member of a state representative. It’s not too farfetched that he could accomplish this,” he said, pacing the room, already in spin mode. “As for these people he helped, well we both know that’s not going to come to light any time soon. People like that make it a point to never get thrown under the bus with the fall guy.”

  “So you at least admit that Clayton is a patsy here?” she said.

  “Since when are you so keen on having Clayton’s back anyway, London?” Cleveland chimed in. “I’d think you of all people would be working with this narrative.”

  “It’s one thing to hate the guy, Cleve,” she responded. “It’s another to completely pervert justice. Are we really doing anyone any good by letting this go down this way? Are the kids going to get their money back? Are the guys who stole it going to jail? All this does is make one innocent man look guilty.”

  “The only one who should be our concern is Dion Davis,” her dad warned her. “You’re a lawyer London. This is what we do.”

  She looked at him with disbelief.

  He softened his tone. “Now, I’m not going to encourage this Clayton Moore scenario. We also have an obligation to not, as you say, ‘pervert justice’,” he conceded. “We’ll focus on Davis’s innocence in all this, which,” he gave his daughter another warning look, “as far as we know is still true.”

  London would give him at least that much. It was extremely difficult to think that Dion Davis had no clue about what was going on right underneath his nose, but until she had proof, she had to work with what he gave her.

  “Now, let’s get to work writing that statement. I want it to focus on Dion’s innocence, not Clayton’s guilt, just in case he manages to finagle his way out of the noose.”

  It was late by the time she left the firm. They’d spent all day creating a press release and tapping into all the media outlets, gathering resources to spin this situation in the best light possible. She’d done what she could for Clayton. Despite her, still quite sore, feelings toward him, he didn’t deserve this.

  “London.”

  She spun around with fright. “Clayton!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  He looked haggard, like he hadn’t slept all weekend. There were bags under his eyes and stubble on his chin. He looked so retched she almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  “You’ve got to fix this,” he pleaded. “You know I couldn’t do something like what they’re accusing me of.”

  She felt a guilty pang in her heart. Then she got over it. It wasn’t just that this man had broken her heart. She had obligations…no matter how much she despised them.

  “Clayton, I shouldn’t even be talking to you. You know this,” she warned.

  “You’re going to hide behind your ethics?”
he cried.

  “Representative Davis is my client, not you.”

  “So you’re going to let him fuck me over?” he asked.

  She gave him some solace. “If it helps, we’re trying to keep you out of it as much as possible.”

  “Gee thanks,” he snapped. “My career, possibly my freedom, is at risk and you are trying to keep me out of it as much as possible. That makes me feel better.”

  Her jaw tightened as she kept herself calm. She could only imagine the strain he was under right now, and how resentful she would feel under similar circumstances.

  “Clayton, if you’re innocent, find the proof,” she urged. “It’s out there, just look for it. I can’t help you.” She turned to walk away, already having said too much.

  “Just like that? All because I broke up with you?” he sneered behind her.

  She spun back around. “This has nothing to do with us, and you know it!” she spat. “Making this personal doesn’t help you, Clayton. Stop sniveling and fight for yourself!”

  He just stared at her with contempt. She turned away, having nothing left to say.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It was plastered all over the news the next morning. Despite the firm’s best effort, Clayton had come under attack severely. Never underestimate the public’s outcry for a villain to focus their angst on. Investigations were already being scrambled.

  Representative Davis didn’t come out completely unscathed. There seemed to be a general hint at incompetence, but that was far better than the alternative. His numbers certainly weren’t going to be “higher than ever” come Friday. Fortunately, it was early in the campaign, and there were still only two serious candidates.

  It made London think of Michael.

  At least now he knew his father wasn’t a crook. On the other hand, what was in those photos?

  She thought back to their fight. It had been her fault completely. She shouldn’t have used what he’d made very clear early on, against him. All the same, she missed him. Now she worried about what he was going through, no doubt thinking about those photos.

  She picked up her phone to call him. As it rang, she braced herself, ready for him to put her firmly in her place.

  “London,” he answered with surprise on the second ring.

  “Michael,” she responded, loving the sound of his voice. “So, I’m assuming you saw the news this morning.”

  “Yeah,” he breathed out on the other end.

  “I’m not fishing for information, here,” she said quickly. “I was just worried about you.”

  He chuckled on the other end. “I know you aren’t,” he replied. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Yours too” she smiled into the phone. “I’m sorry about what I yelled at you that night. You made it clear what you wanted and I shouldn’t have—”

  “Hey, hey,” he interrupted softly. “How about we start from scratch okay? Tabula rasa.”

  She laughed lightly into the phone. “You’re still using the term wrong.”

  “Either way, let’s just leave it at you and me, meeting for drinks and going from there.”

  “But can we also go back to being complicated?”

  He laughed. “Shall I book a room at the Roosevelt? I’m kind of hooked on this hotel room sex.”

  “It is delightfully naughty,” she mused.

  “Meet you at 7?” he offered.

  “I’ll see you then, Mr. Wright.”

  “I look forward to it, Ms. Jefferson.”

  She went through the familiar motions of slipping the card key into the slot, looking both ways before opening the door to step inside. Michael was already seated at the table, enjoying a glass of something amber colored.

  He began to rise to meet her.

  “Stay right where you are,” she said, dropping her overnight bag and strutting toward him in her heels. This time when she untied her trench coat she was in nothing but a pair of thigh-high, lace top stockings. She let the coat slide to the floor before kneeling before him to undo the fly to his slacks.

  There was something thrilling about being naked on her knees before him, while he was still in his work clothes. It made her feel like some high-priced call girl…or cheap whore. Either way it was getting her off.

  “God, I missed you,” he murmured as he looked down at her.

  London just looked up at him with a seductive smile as she reached in to pull out his cock, which was already springing to life in her hands. She kept her eyes trained on his as she slipped her tongue out to lick the tip like a lollypop. Her mouth went around to circle the head sucking on it gently, letting her tongue slide over the slit to lick up his pre-cum.

  As she lowered her head down, opening her throat to take as much of him as possible, she inhaled is scent, savoring it. She wanted to bathe in it, etch it into her subconscious. For the moment she was happy just to pleasure him. She felt the veins glide over her tongue as she brought herself back up, only to wrap her hands around the shaft and follow them down again.

  “Jesus, London,” he groaned.

  This time his hand came around to run his fingers through her hair. He grabbed lightly, holding on as she worked her way up and down his dick faster and faster. She moaned as she embraced the feel of him sliding down her throat. She heard him groaning above her in response.

  “Christ, your mouth is like a fucking piston,” Michael growled.

  She pulled herself off of him to respond. “A week and a half is a long time to make up for,” she grinned before lowering her mouth to continue.

  “It sure is,” she heard him respond. She felt him tug lightly at her hair, pulling her head up before she could take him again. He gripped her hair in his hands and stared down at her intently.

  “I want to fuck you so hard you’ll never forget how I feel about you.” He said.

  With that he grabbed her and picked her up off the floor. He tossed her lightly onto the bed and she lay there, stunned as she watched him practically rip his clothes off. Once he was naked, still fully erect, he grabbed her legs and pulled her closer to him. He leaned in between her legs, guiding his dick into her wet opening. With one quick thrust he was deep inside of her. She brought her legs up high around his waist, her heels and stockings still on.

  They continued in unison, indulging in what could only be described as a raw, animalistic, make up fuck.

  Afterwards, a much needed shower was in order. Michael pulled his exhausted body off of her and reached out a hand to lift her up. The bathroom was blessed with an actual tub. Even though it was on the smaller side, they decided to take a bath rather than a shower. They had quite a bit of making up to do.

  When the tub was half full they realized their error as Michael tried to squeeze his 6’4” frame into the small space. There was no way they could accomplish this in the typical fashion that lovers often did, her back against his chest. So Michael sat straight up, with his back pressed firmly against the tile wall while London sat on his lap facing him. In the end they decided this was a far superior solution.

  “So are you okay?” London asked, washing his hairy chest with soapy hands.

  “I am right now,” he sighed with a grin, his eyes closed.

  “I’m serious,” she pressed, tweaking his nipple.

  He sighed again, this time less playfully. “I don’t know. I tried getting information out of my dad but the man has no shame.”

  “You don’t have to tell me the details, you know. I only care about you, not what your father’s done.”

  He opened his eyes and took the bar of soap from her, lathering his hands up. He began massaging her shoulders and neck with soapy hands. “Well it’s bound to come out now that the other side of the equation is out in the open. I’m more concerned about my brothers. I’m an adult, I can brush it off, and frankly I’m used to my father’s embarrassing antics. As much of a terror as my two youngest brothers are, they aren’t as…seasoned as I am. Throw in an election and, well, it’s bound
to be messy. Far worse than anything I’ve ever had to go through.”

  London continued to run her hands over his chest and shoulders. “I just want you to know that you can trust me. My ethical obligation is to provide legal representation, not rat out my boyfriend.”

  He smiled. “So I’m your boyfriend, now am I?”

  She felt her face get warm then she thought about it. “Yes, yes you are,” she said confidently, tapping him on the end of his slightly dented, oh so imperfect nose, leaving a soapy dot that made her smile.

  His smile grew. “Okay then, girlfriend.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “That sounds really wrong. I think only gay and female friends are supposed to use it like that.”

  He nodded, laughing. “I think you’re right. How about ‘plus one’?”

  She wrinkled her nose again, shaking it in the negative.

  “Significant other?”

  She raised her eyebrows in consideration. Promising.

  “Ball and chain?”

  She punched him lightly in the chest.

  “What about BAE?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  “How the hell do you know what that means?”

  “What? I’m hip to the new lingo.”

  She laughed. “Okay that’s a no on BAE, and a big no on you ever using that sentence again.”

  “Future Mrs.?”

  “Ohh…I like where your mind is going,” she smiled.

  “Okay how about this,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her in closer. “My someone special, my someone very special.” As he said it he looked deep into her eyes with a solemn expression. He reached up to caress her cheek, leaving a soapy streak that she didn’t care about.

  “I like it,” she said softly, then reached in to kiss the soap away from his nose.