Vote Then Read: Volume III

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Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 29

by Aleatha Romig


  “Don’t you want me to …” I nod to his waist.

  “Return the favor?” he clarifies.

  “Yeah … I mean, I know you said blue balls and you would become friends, but …” I lower my gaze while the words stutter from my lips, as if I were twelve and had never seen a cock before.

  He shrugs casually, as if he were asked the question daily. “I won’t stop you, but it’s not why I came. I had a craving for your pussy. If you have a craving for some dick-sucking, mine is all yours.”

  My gaze slightly moves up, and I bite into the edge of my lip when I notice his handcuffs. If we ever have sex, I want us to use them. I shut my eyes and imagine the things he’d do with me.

  I rest my eyes on Kyle’s lap as if it were my favorite meal.

  I stand up, surprised I can support my weight after the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me, and his eyes widen in interest as I take the small step to him. They turn hungry when I sink down to my knees, and they harden while he watches me unbuckle his duty belt.

  His hand folds over mine, stopping me, and I peek up at him as he drags the belt off—along with his gun—and carefully sets it on the corner of my desk. This gives me better access to unzip his pants, and I easily tug them down along with his briefs until they hit his knees. My mouth falls open when his cock comes level with my face.

  The asshole has a perfect cock, too.

  Go figure.

  He’s huge and engorged, the tip of it red and glistening with pre-cum.

  I settle my knees on his boots to give me better height and wrap my fingers around his dick. It jerks under my palm. When I glance up, his wild eyes meet mine.

  “This never happened. Do you hear me?”

  His cock twitches.

  He holds his hands up. “Chloe never had her hand wrapped around my cock; got it. Can we also act like your lips around my cock didn’t happen either?”

  Instead of answering him, I take him fully in my mouth, causing him to gasp. I nearly choke when the tip of him hits the back of my throat. I try to stop myself from gagging, and before it happens, his cock slowly moves out until the tip is at my lips.

  “Shit, Chloe,” Kyle croaks out. “You don’t have to swallow my cock. Make yourself comfortable. Relax your jaw. Do it the way you want to.”

  It’s like he read my mind. I shut my eyes and do as he said, slowly sliding my mouth up and down his length. With every stroke, I grow more comfortable. His hand dives into my hair, but he lets me keep my pace. I pray to God Melanie or anyone else doesn’t walk in. The door is closed, but not everyone is polite enough to knock.

  I know he’s close by his breathing and the shaking of his legs.

  “Fuck, Chloe,” he hisses. “Let me fuck you. Please, let me fuck you.” His pleading turns me on more.

  I shake my head, and his cock slips from my lips. “No.” I return to the task at hand.

  I want to have sex with him. But I can’t.

  “Your mouth is amazing.” He winces when I take him deeper. “We’ve already crossed a line. What’s one more?” He groans. “We can say it never happened.”

  That awful idea turns into a good one at the sound of his moaning.

  I keep sucking him without answering and smile in satisfaction when he releases in my mouth.

  I’m forming a relationship with Kyle, but it’s only sexual.

  We have a relationship based on oral sex.

  We’re oral sex buddies.

  And I intend to keep it that way.

  What harm can a few shared orgasms do?

  “Are you sure me coming is a good idea?” I ask from the passenger seat of Kyle’s truck. “Your father despises me.”

  He glances over at me and raises a brow. “My father doesn’t know you. How could he hate you?”

  I run my hand up and down the seat belt. “Correction: he hates everyone like me.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “He refers to us as scum of the city. Dirtbags. Cockroaches. Along with some other choice words.”

  He winces at his father’s comments. “He won’t be there. My mom said he’s attending a work event.”

  I deviate the conversation to one I’ve been wondering about after hearing the gossip around town. “Was he mad when you didn’t go into the line of work he wanted you to?”

  Everyone knows Kyle had been groomed to go into law and politics like his father. He went as far as attending law school before dropping out his first year.

  “How did you go from future attorney to a police officer?”

  “Because it’s what I wanted to do, and I won’t allow anyone else to declare my future. Was he happy about it? No. But I am, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Your father seems like an asshole who always gets his way.”

  He chuckles. “You must know my father.”

  Everyone has their opinion of Michael Lane. Some glowing. Some distasteful.

  In my opinion, Michael Lane is trash.

  But most of Blue Beech practically worships their beloved mayor.

  “I’ve heard rumors. How mad was he when you dropped out of law school?”

  “We barely speak,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

  My face falls. “I’m sorry.”

  He’s not upset—annoyed if anything. “Don’t be. Hearing less of my dad’s voice is a goddamn blessing.”

  I chuckle to lighten the mood. “I take it, you aren’t a daddy’s boy?”

  “Never have been. Never will be.”

  I can’t stop the grin playing at my lips. “So, you’re a mama’s boy?”

  His voice turns humorless, surprising me. “I love my mother more than anything. If it classifies me as a mama’s boy, so be it. She doesn’t pay my bills, but I will damn sure always protect her.”

  All right then.

  Let’s add protective and sweet to Kyle’s Pros.

  We pull into the nicest neighborhood in Blue Beech, and he rounds a corner before parking in a circular drive of the largest home on the block.

  “This is it.”

  I eyeball my surroundings before glimpsing his way. “Why don’t you live in this neighborhood?”

  He raises a brow in confusion.

  “You can obviously afford to live in a nicer neighborhood than mine.”

  “You do realize I’m a police officer, right? We’re not raking in the money.”

  “Yes,” I draw out. “But your family is loaded.”

  “Doesn’t mean I am, nor do I want their money.”

  I snap my mouth shut and unbuckle my seat belt, feeling awkward over my question. Of course Kyle, as a grown man, doesn’t allow his family to support him.

  “And to feed your curiosity, I moved there because it was the house my grandmother grew up in. She talked about it all the time and how she missed living in a simple neighborhood. Someone bought it and renovated it. I put in an offer when it went back on the market. Trust me; it wasn’t because you lived next door even though it is a plus.” He winks before opening his door and getting out.

  Circling around the truck, he opens my door next before offering his hand.

  “Are you doing this to make sure I don’t get out and make a run for it?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “No. I’m doing it because I’m romantic as fuck.”

  I grab his hand with reluctance.

  “I promise it won’t be dreadful. I enjoy your company, and deny it all you want, but you also enjoy mine. We’ll eat dinner, sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to my sister, and then bail. If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll leave.”

  I release an overly exaggerated breath and hop out of the truck.

  Kyle’s introduces me to his family. His mother, Nancy. His younger brother, Rex. The birthday girl and younger sister, Sierra. And the youngest girl, Cassidy. Sierra’s boyfriend is here, appearing nothing like I’d imagine her with by looking at her. Sierra is sporting a black leather jacket and bright red lips, and she’s wearing heels. Her boyfriend is in a sweater and
a pair of Sperry slip-ons.

  Sometimes, opposites do attract.

  No Michael Lane in sight. Good. My appetite won’t be ruined.

  We’re seated at the table, about to dig in, when the front door slams.

  Uh-oh. Front doors slamming are never a good sign.

  The room goes silent.

  No one takes a bite or drink.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  I stiffen at the sound of his voice.

  Shit.

  I hold my breath, awaiting his entrance. He stands in the entry, arms broad with an expensive suit and a face full of smugness. For a small-town mayor, he thinks he’s hotter shit than he is. He hardly has any pull, but word is, he’s trying to move up the totem pole and make it to Governor of Iowa. Then, Senate. Then, however higher he can manipulate his way up.

  He walks around the table, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Sierra and Cassidy. He gives Sierra’s boyfriend a head nod but pays no attention to Rex or Kyle before taking the empty chair at the head of the table.

  “I thought you couldn’t make it?” Kyle asks with a slight hiss in his tone.

  Michael gives a crooked politician’s smile. “Didn’t think I could, but there was a break in my schedule, so I figured, Why not?”

  I’m not sure if he’s noticed my presence.

  Rex snorts. “Yeah, why not show up to your daughter’s birthday dinner?”

  “Rex,” Michael warns.

  I like Rex and his little smart mouth.

  “Don’t get mad at me for stating the obvious,” Rex argues.

  “Some of us work for a living to provide for a son who wants to take a year to defer from college to jerk around,” Michael bites out with a glare toward Rex.

  “Or maybe your son decided he won’t be a puppet and follow in his father’s footsteps. I’m not attending the college or majoring in what you want. Just like Kyle, I don’t want to be Michael Lane’s protégé. You’ve shown me firsthand your business, and politics are something I never want to be a part of.”

  This sure is fun.

  Very entertaining.

  I’m at the best dinner show, and I didn’t pay for a ticket.

  “Everyone, shut up,” Kyle finally snaps. “This is Sierra’s birthday dinner, not a pissing match. If we want to do that shit, we’ll do it later. So, eat your fucking dinner and shut your fucking mouths unless it’s to wish her a happy birthday.”

  Well, damn.

  “Thank you,” Sierra says.

  Kyle glances over at Nancy. “Sorry, Mom.”

  I don’t pay attention to Nancy. My eyes stay on Michael. I watch the way his upper lip snarls at Kyle. He clearly likes to be the one in charge. He’s about to most likely lay into him until his eyes flicker my way. I receive a dirtier look than anyone at this table so far.

  “I see we have company,” Michael says, jerking his chin toward me.

  “Yes, sorry for the lack of introduction while you came in, talking shit,” Kyle says.

  I’ve never seen him like this—so condescending and defiant. It’s a major turn-on, given he’s being a total dick to an asshole I don’t like.

  Kyle tips his head my way. “Chloe, Mayor Lane.” Then, he tips his head toward his father. “Mayor Lane, Chloe.”

  Michael rubs his chin. “Welcome to my home.” He says it with such distaste that more than one person at the table flinches.

  “Dad,” Kyle warns, “you’re not even supposed to be here. If you plan to insult people, leave.”

  His glare confirms I’m not welcome here.

  “How long have you been dating my brother?” Sierra asks when I walk out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

  I don’t see Kyle anywhere in sight.

  Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Nancy forced conversation, asking what everyone had been up to. Sierra recently graduated from college. So did her boyfriend. Cassidy’s college choice was met with approval from Michael. Rex got skipped, considering he’d already told Michael to get fucked. The same with Kyle. When Nancy came to me, Michael interrupted the conversation and began discussing a charity function.

  I nearly fall on my face at her question. “Negative thirty minutes.”

  She blinks. “Huh?”

  “We’re not dating.”

  “So … just friends?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Just neighbors.”

  She leans against the wall, and I don’t know if she was passing by when I walked out of the bathroom or if she was waiting for me.

  “I think you two would make a cute couple.”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s a bad idea.”

  “Hmm … doesn’t seem that way, but if you saying that makes you feel better …” she says before smoothing a hand down her blonde hair. “Thanks for coming to my birthday dinner.”

  With that, her boyfriend appears, and she leaves with him.

  I walk down the hall and out the front door, in need of fresh air. I inhale deep breaths while standing on the front porch.

  “How dare you step foot into my home,” Michael says, coming to my side.

  He was waiting for the perfect time to pounce.

  “I’m unsure of why you’re so angry about it,” I reply, trying to keep my voice as firm as I can. You don’t scare me.

  He rests his elbows on the railing next to me. From the outside, we resemble two friends sharing a friendly conversation, and I hate how close he is.

  “You don’t belong here. My son hanging out with you will tarnish my family’s image.”

  “Your son is a big boy who can make his own decisions. Maybe you should look in the mirror and realize what a deceptive liar you are.”

  He lets out an arrogant laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong, Chloe. I’m not a deceptive man. I’m a man who wants the best for the town he’s in charge of, and if I have to get rid of the people who pollute it, it’s what I’ll do.”

  “I wouldn’t brag about that.”

  “Oh, really?”

  I stare straight ahead. “You’re a fighter who will do anything to get what he wants even if it means stepping on the less fortunate. As our mayor, maybe you should fight for them instead.”

  “Life isn’t fair. Accept it. It’s a lesson you should’ve learned early, but I’m sure your single, drug-addicted mother didn’t instill it.” He cracks a smile.

  I push off the railing. “Don’t talk about my mother. Don’t talk about my family. Matter of fact, don’t come near me again.”

  “Chloe. No one cares about your dysfunctional family. You’re the one who stepped into my home, unwelcome. I’m well aware that you see my son as an opportunity. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, seeing as you’re trying to fuck your way into getting my son’s money.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You of all people should know how powerful I am. Remember Sam?”

  I wince at the name. “Go fuck yourself, Mayor Lane.”

  He laughs while I walk away.

  8

  Kyle

  There’s a knock on my office door.

  My father walks in.

  Great. He’s most likely not here to ask for my Christmas wish list.

  “What’s up?” This conversation needs to be as short as possible.

  He shuts the door behind him and takes a seat. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be hanging out with Chloe Fieldgain.”

  Ah, there it is. This isn’t a social hello, unsurprisingly. I expected a call, but it seems he felt the need to show his face instead.

  The tension between my dad and Chloe was strong, and I can’t blame her. Even with my mom’s discouragement, he judges those less fortunate in our town.

  Last night, I could tell we were both exhausted, so I didn’t ask Chloe to hang out, and we went into our own homes.

  “Who I hang out with is none of your business,” I reply.

  He laughs. “Tell me it’s only sex and you
’re using condoms.”

  “It’s not only sex, and we’re not using condoms. I’m hoping to give you fifteen grandchildren with her.” Take that, asshole.

  “Son, if you’re having an issue getting women to sleep with you, I can find someone to help get your rocks off.”

  I hold my hand up and cringe. Fucking gross. “Calm down. I’m not sleeping with Chloe.”

  “Good. You might be smarter than I thought.”

  I scoff. “Smart because I’m not sleeping with someone?”

  “Smart, like your father, who knows where he sticks his dick is important.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I never want to be a man like you.”

  “A man like me?” he asks, insulted.

  “Yes. A shitty husband. A shitty dad. A man so hungry for power that he can’t realize his plate is already full.”

  He pulls at the collar of his suit. “I’m beginning to think my daughters carry more balls than my sons. Rex wants to be … fuck, I don’t know what, and you want to screw a woman who grew up in the trailer park.”

  “Again, I’m not fucking Chloe. We’re friends and neighbors.”

  He smiles. “Be safe with her. The last thing you need is a baby with the woman. Fuck her all you want, but be careful.”

  “Leave her alone,” I instruct. “Don’t you dare give her the same warning, or there will be problems.”

  He huffs. “Since when do you think you have authority over me?”

  “Since I decided I’m not afraid of you and not a puppet under your bullshit. I thought I’d already proved that to you. It’s been fun.” I tip my head toward the door. “You know the way out.”

  “Selfish bastard.”

  “I wish I were a bastard.”

  “And there’s our favorite third wheel,” Lauren sings.

  “Piss off,” I grumble when I slide into the backseat of Gage’s truck. “If you two weren’t forcing me to come, I wouldn’t be a third wheel. My mom, who is the queen of throwing parties, never had a gender reveal party. Next, you two will be drinking hipster beer and eating avocado toast.”

  “Avocado toast is amazing, for your information,” Lauren replies with a laugh. “Stop being a hater.”

 

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