by Gage Grayson
The man walks across the floor of his office and offers his hand to me. I take it in mine and give him a firm shake.
I take the opportunity to gauge the man before me.
He’s shorter than I expected, and his hair is far grayer in person than it is in his campaign photos and government website picture.
His three-piece Paul Fredrick suit is cream-colored and is horribly matched against his skin tone.
He gives a firm handshake, I’ll give him that.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Governor.”
“Dylan,” my father says in a formal tone.
“Pops.”
My informal recognition of him brings a smile to his face as he tilts his glass of scotch against his lips.
“Well, I can see that there are no introductions needed for you two.”
The governor laughs at his own joke, and I give him a complimentary chuckle in response. My father does the same.
“So, Mr. Andrews—”
“Please, Governor. Call me Dylan.”
“Alright. So, Dylan. Can I interest you in a drink?”
“Yes, please. Scotch. Neat.”
“One scotch, neat, coming up.”
The man kindly pours me a drink, like a good Texan host, and hands me the glass with a smile.
I set my suitcase down beside a chair across from his desk and take a seat.
My father sits in the chair beside me, and Davis sits in his.
There’s a lingering silence between the three of us as we enjoy a couple of drinks of our scotch.
While the man has poor taste in suits, his taste in scotch isn’t half bad—Johnnie Walker Blue Label, if I’m not mistaken by the honeyed and toasty oak flavor.
In this moment of silence, however, I’m wishing more than anything that Brooke was here with me.
This meeting is a big fucking deal, and it’s only right that she should be here.
I get that’s not because of her responsibilities at the school, but because she’s the face of this battle against the State. All of the teachers and students are rallying behind her in this—not that I can blame them. She’s a natural, charismatic leader.
And, according to Jessie, she enjoys Johnnie Walker, too.
“So, gentlemen. Down to the business of why I’m here.”
I’m the first to speak as I set my glass down on the governor’s desk.
“Yes, the merging of Fredericksburg High and Llano High. This turned out to be quite a bigger deal than I expected.”
“Well, Governor—”
“Please, call me Rob,” the politician interrupts.
“Well…Rob, this school is a big deal to a lot of people. And the people of Llano aren’t too overly happy about half their teachers losing jobs, either.”
“Look…Dylan, it’s one school. And closing it not only saves the state money, but your father’s plans for the property will immensely help your community,” Davis says—rather smugly at that—as he leans back in his leather chair.
“Everyone knows that Fredericksburg is the go-to for wine in Texas. With this new complex, it will help us rival Napa Valley,” my father tacks on with a confident grin of his own.
“Yes, well you’re both forgetting one thing. You, most especially, Rob.”
The governor looks over at my father and then back to me with a quizzical look on his face. He tries to hide it behind that smug smile of his, but it’s a facade I’ve seen far too many times to fall for.
“Please, enlighten me.”
“Public. Opinion.”
I feel the corners of my lips pull into smile as Davis quickly takes a drink of his scotch.
“As you two are well aware, this story has gained nationwide coverage. And, as you’re no doubt also aware, it’s not going well for either you or my father. All these boons you’re toting, none of them will ever come to fruition. Face it, gentlemen, you lost this fight before it ever began.”
“And what makes you so confident of that, Mr. Andrews?”
Davis calling me Mr. Andrews has me smiling from ear to ear. He’s cracking already—much faster than I had expected a man of his experience to.
My father, on the other hand, looks as cool and calm as ever. It’s almost as if everything I’m saying, he’s expecting.
“Well, for starters, you’re dealing with me. And I’m the man you don’t want to go up against. I can open my briefcase and show you three legal precedents that will overturn this merger. I’m more than prepared to take this all the way to the Supreme Court. And if you want me to embarrass you, more so than now, on that kind of national stage…well, I’ll gladly do it.”
There’s a twitch in Davis’ eye that only further strengthens my position. I’m actually starting to wonder how the man ever got elected in the cutthroat field of politics, to begin with.
“You’re forgetting something yourself, son,” my father finally interjects, drawing the gaze of both myself and the governor. “The mob is fickle. You’re headline news now. Sure, it hurts our cause, but it’ll all be forgotten in three months’ time. If that.
“Some new scandal from the White House will draw people’s attention. Or some celebrity will announce they’re having a baby. And the people will just simply…forget.”
Dad’s words are full of confidence, as they should be. His points are valid, and it’s a concern I myself thought about as well, but Brooke’s optimism has been rubbing off on me as of late. And now I feel as though my father—and myself—had underestimated the public.
“That may be true, but it very well may not be, either. See, the public tend to be quite protective when it comes to their children and the future of their children. How do you think that’ll look for your coming re-election, Rob? How do you look voters in the eye and tell them you have the interest of their children at heart?”
The fear that this may cost him his re-election suddenly becomes very real to the man sitting across from me, and I can see the color drain from his face. He’s grown confident in his position and accustomed to the lifestyle that comes with it.
And, like all men with power, he fears losing it. Which he will, if he continues down this path.
“Dylan, this helps you as much as it helps me. And our home. This complex and what it can do is a huge boon for our investments and portfolio. Why not use your talents and help us?”
I look at my father in disbelief. For the first time this entire meeting, my own demeanor cracks.
I truly cannot believe what my father has just asked me to do.
“You don’t get it, Pops. I’ve never cared about the family fortune. I made it to Harvard on my own. I’ve built my own personal wealth on my own.
“I know that I came from a loving home with two amazing parents who afforded me every opportunity in the world. I get that. You and Mom laid the groundwork for my future success. I can’t take that away from you.
“But every championship game, every trophy, every grade, and every case I have ever won…that was me.”
“So, you’re saying that you’re going to continue to fight this…and your father?”
I turn my attention away from my father and to the unsettled governor across from me. I lift my glass of scotch off the desk and finish it in one large swill.
“Yes, and with every resource at my disposal. Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Chapter 24
Brooke
“No! Don’t go in there, you dumb—”
I cut myself off with a sigh of disappointment as the red-headed prom queen in the movie rushes into the room that the machete-using killer is hiding in.
The sound of her screaming in pain as the killer attacks her fills my living room and I roll my eyes.
“Well, you fucking deserved it for being so damn stupid.”
I reach down to grab my beer when I hear a gentle knock at my door. I pause my movie instead and get up from the couch.
My legs yell in protest a bit as I had been sitting cross legged through the mo
vie—and the one before it.
“Coming,” I call out before taking a quick drink of beer.
I open the door, and I’m surprised, but delighted, at the sight in front of me.
“Well hello, gorgeous.”
“Dylan? What are you doing here?”
“Seriously? I rush back from Austin to see you and that’s how you answer the door?”
He flashes me that lopsided smirk of his, which never fails to send a cold chill down my spine, and I’m quick to kiss him.
He looks like he just stepped out of GQ Magazine. Even after being in meetings all day and drying countless hours, his two-piece Tom Ford suit looks immaculate—as if he just put it on before coming to my door.
His dark brown hair, which has slowly been getting lighter in the Texas sun, is styled so perfectly that it looks appropriate for both the courtroom and a late night date for drinks.
Dylan’s muscled arms wrap around me and he lifts me up into his chest.
It’s impossible not to feel safe and loved in his arms.
“Okay, but seriously, what are you doing here? I thought you were staying in Austin for the night.”
“Well, that was the plan. But the meeting was shorter than expected, and I didn’t want to spend another night without you. So I drove back.”
“I’m not going to complain about that. Take us inside.”
Dylan laughs at me as I bury my face into his neck. I take in his scent of musk oil and red grapefruit, and I can’t help but kiss his stubbly neck.
“Mm, you smell good,” I coo as I run my teeth over his skin.
“I always smell good,” he says with a soft chuckle as he kicks my front door closed.
“So, how did everything go, anyway?”
“It went well. Real well,” he answers with another soft laugh as I feel the goose bumps rise along his neck.
“As good as you smell?”
“Better.”
“Mm, good,” I move my lips from his neck to his lips for a quick kiss. “Tell me about it.”
Dylan sets me down on my feet and I take in his sexy appearance again, but I make sure he knows I’m checking him out.
“You’re in a mood tonight,” he comments as his own eyes look me over.
I’m not wearing anything special. Just a loose fitting white t-shirt and a pair of ripped jean shorts. But then I notice his eyes linger on my tits and I can see he’s noticed that I’m not wearing a bra.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how lucky you’re feeling, Mr. Andrews,” I tease as I bite down on my bottom lip.
“Uh huh.”
“But, spill.”
“Well, I made the Governor sweat. Literally. My father, on the other hand, he was harder to read. It’s like everything I do, he’s already expected it. But ultimately, he’s not the one I was there to go toe to toe with.”
“So, you think the Governor is going to change his mind? You think that they’ll keep the school open?”
“I’d bet my career on it.”
I want to squeal with excitement, but the change in Dylan’s demeanor has me worried.
For all our time apart, we still know each other surprisingly well. Honestly, it’s pretty fucking scary how well we still know each other.
And one thing I know about Dylan is how much he loves and adores his parents. This fight with his father is straining him more than he’ll admit and I can see the pain in his eyes that the schism is causing.
I reach up and take his face in my hands.
Dylan looks down at me, and I can see the solace in his eyes as they meet mine. His hands grip my waist and his features soften to match the look in his eyes.
“I know this hasn’t been easy on you, Dylan. I know you don’t like fighting against your father and—”
“Shh. It’s okay, Brooke. Really. This is the right thing to do. And, honestly, nobody else around here has a chance standing against my father. I’m doing what I have to do. And I’m okay with it, even if it means hurting the relationship between my father and I. This is bigger than me and my family.”
There’s really nothing that I can say to that, so I kiss him hard—and fiercely.
Our tongues dance and then wrestle with one another as our kiss deepens.
My hands run up the length of his torso and over his hard chest through the white fabric of his shirt as Dylan expertly undo my shorts and slide them off my hips.
If I was wearing underwear I’m sure he’d have slipped them off, too, but instead I feel his fingers slip between my wet lips and dip inside me.
I moan into our kiss at his touch and I feel his lips quirk into a smile. He takes a step back, breaking our kiss. I growl with displeasure at the parting of our lips, but then I moan as I feel his thumb slide against my clit.
“Shirt. Off.”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice, and I lift my shirt up over my head. I toss it to the side just as I feel his swollen lips close around one of my pert nipples.
My fingers move through his styled hair as he plays with me so expertly.
I feel like every nerve in my body has turned into a lightning rod. Every caress of his tongue against my stiff nipples and flick of my clit with his thumb has me turning into putty in his hand—and mouth.
My arms wrap around his neck and I cling to him for dear life as my knees weaken.
“Fu—”
I don’t even get to finish as I feel myself succumb to the torrential wave of overwhelming ecstasy that Dylan has drowned me with.
Dylan lifts me up off of my feet and heads deeper into my home. I have no clue where he’s taking me—I’m too preoccupied with kissing and nibbling at his neck to care—until I feel him set me down on a hard surface.
I let myself look away from him for a brief moment to take in my surroundings and see that he’s taken me to the dining room table.
He makes no move to take off his suit and I feel another wave of warmth between my thighs at the realization of what’s coming.
Dylan doesn’t bother to undo his belt. He just unfastens his pants and slides the zipper down.
I bite down on my lip with an excited smile as I see his thick cock freed from its restraints.
Dylan grabs the back of my neck and props me, giving me a better view—as he slides his cock into my pussy. I let out a hungry moan to the feeling of him throbbing inside me as my eyes roll into the back of my head.
Then I feel Dylan’s other hand on the back of my neck, propping me up further, and he slams himself as deep as he can into me. His thrusts reverberates through my body.
I wrap his expensive tie around my fist and let out a growl that surprises the both of us.
I pull Dylan down towards me and lick his lips teasingly before closes the tiny gap and kisses me with intense lust that gives me goose bumps.
Dylan’s thrusts are fast and hard. Hard enough that I can hear our thighs smack together even through his pants.
My legs wrap around his waist and I’m hit with a new sensation as each commanding lunge sends tiny jolts from my core to the rest of my body, from my toes to my fingertips.
The moans spilling out from me into our kiss grow louder as I grab the ledge of the table with my free hand. The wooden table creaks faster and louder as Dylan’s vigorous pace quickens.
My ability to form a rational thought fades quickly as my mind turns into a giant haze. About the only thought I can make is how good Dylan’s cock feels.
The tiny jolts of lightning coursing through my body turn to a full-blown thunderstorm that has every muscle in me quivering.
I try to keep my lips locked onto his, but I fail and throw my head back to let out a crying whimper of a moan as I feel the most incredible, and overwhelming, climax that I’ve ever felt before.
It feels as though my toes will never uncurl again.
Dylan doesn’t stop. His unrelenting onslaught continues and keeps me on edge as if I was trying to balance myself on a razor blade.
Dylan’s hand grabs a
fistful of my hair and he pulls my face toward him. Our eyes meet and I’m lost in the intensity staring back at me.
Our lips meet again in wanton hunger and lust.
The thunderstorm rages on and I fall off the edge that Dylan’s cock kept me on.
I let go of his tie and grab his hair instead—with both hands.
I want to say something, anything—if only to force myself to breathe—but my brain has been reduced to a heaping pile of mush. I want to whip out some witty quip, but the buzzing, over-sensitivity coursing through me only brings the word “fuck” to mind.
A low, almost primal growl fills the air and Dylan’s eyes close tightly. He lowers his head and buries himself into my neck.
I feel his teeth against my bare flesh, as if he’s on the verge of biting down on me like a rabid animal, and then I feel one final thrust of his hips. A wave of warmth fills me as I feel him pulsating and throbbing as he comes.
I finally let out the breath I had been holding just as I feel him take in a deep breath against my hot skin.
He stands up a bit straighter and looks down at me with a content smile. He swallows hard and lets his forehead lean against my own.
I could easily spend the rest of my life doing this with Dylan. Not just the sex, mind you, it’s un-fucking-real how amazing it is but the tender moments like this of just us touching without needing to say anything.
But I’m convinced that this schism brewing between Dylan and his father will drive him away and back to New York that much faster when everything’s said and done.
Chapter 25
Dylan
Now that I’m back from Austin, all I want to do is spend my time with Brooke. I almost wish I could convince her to take a few days off work just so we can lie in bed together.
But, of course, I would never ask that of her. Not when she would never ask that of me, either.
And especially not because the result of the merger could truly be out any day now. For all we know, Brooke could be spending her last few, precious weeks with the classes she loves so much.
I don’t want to dwell on that. Nobody does. I have to keep focusing on the idea that we’ll win.
After all, I’ve never lost a case. Just because this one is against my father, why should that no longer hold true?