Head Hunter: A Virgin Billionaire Reverse Romance

by Alexis Angel

  I’ve taken to not commenting to the Press. I’m not worried about myself. Well, actually, hun, don’t tell anyone, but I kind of am. I’ve never been so reviled in the political world as I am right now. And it’s not just the Daily Journal. It’s like all the media sense blood, and so they’re piling on. Trying to find any angle at all that will sell more papers—or glue more eyeballs to the television or computer screen and raise more ad revenue.

  The heart of this matter is pretty simple. Jobs, or the environment. I don’t know how sex became a part of it. But you take any woman who likes sex in this political climate and you place her between two men like Carter and Liam, and the press is going to salivate.

  Sometimes I wonder if we just shouldn’t put up a mattress on the corner of Broadway and 42nd Street and have sex right there. Let the world get it out of its system. Trust me, if I thought that there was a chance it could work to get everyone off of our backs, I’d do it. Because I guarantee you the ethics investigations, the impeachment, all of that would stop. People wouldn’t be whipped into a frenzy anymore. But all it would do would probably be to whet their appetites. They’d want to take close up shots of Liam’s cock going into my pussy. They’d want to see my lips wrap around Carter’s cock. And then they’d paste it all over the Daily Journal and sell more copies.

  No, the only way to confront this is going to have to be head on.

  Two.

  That’s how many men I’ve fallen in love with. I know, hun. You’re shaking your head with a smile at me, aren’t you. Thinking that I need to grow up to fully understand what love is. That I’m 29 years old, how can I even think that I’m in love? Just because I’ve gotten orgasms that leave me breathless. Getting shot into orbit and coming back into a sex haze doesn’t mean I’ve fallen in love, I bet you’re thinking. It means I’ve fallen in lust.

  Well, the lust is definitely there. Don’t get me wrong. You know that tingling you get between your legs when you think about a big cock stretching you open? Feeling filled up? The dampness that you feel. How you can feel your panties stick to your lips when you read about or imagine wrapping your lips around the tip of a nice, thick, large cock? As someone grabs your nipples and twists them. Smacks your ass? The drippiness you feel and the flush that goes through your body? How all you want to do at that point is find a quiet corner and just touch yourself, even if it’s one finger against the clit. You just want more of that feeling, but you know you’re headed to the precipice and you’re going to explode the more you push yourself? You know that feeling, babe?

  Yeah, imagine that times two. Because that’s Liam and Carter.

  But what you don’t see, and what you haven’t really gotten, because Alexis probably hasn’t included it, are those times in the month where the three of us have basically moved into Liam’s sprawling house in New Kingston and really lived together.

  How Liam makes us breakfast in the morning. He gives Carter extra bacon. He makes sure to get a grapefruit cut for me. Every. Single. Morning.

  How Carter explains the remote to me. I swear to God I don’t understand why there are three. Apparently one for the television. One for the Roku. And one for the sound. It sounds like the entire system was thought up by men, you know? Give it to a woman, and you’d have one remote.

  The way both of them hide the newspapers from me some mornings. Or my tablet. As if they don’t understand that I’ve been called a lot worse than ‘The Whore of Washington’. That I’ve gone through a lot more and have thicker skin than they realize. So the prospect of a Daily Journal headline that simply has my picture with the world ‘SLUT’ doesn’t faze me. It startles me. It makes me wonder what kind of a world we live in. But I can move on.

  The way, after we have sex, the way both men hold me. But how they casually are able to let the other have me. I’ve never realized how insanely hot it is to let one man watch me as another fucks me. And then they take turns sometimes, watching, desiring, celebrating me.

  How it’s gotten to the point where I know what each of them is thinking. How Carter is viewing this as a rational debate that he’s going to win on facts when I know that the system is going to want a sacrifice. Liam understands that. He doesn’t understand that I can see in his eyes he’s preparing himself to be that sacrifice so Carter and I can continue. Carter thinks he’s going to convince the legislators with his arguments. Liam thinks he’s going to bulldoze past them. Their both wrong. And if I don’t do anything, they’ll both end up losing their careers.

  But I love them. So I’ve been busy myself.

  Thirty.

  I know I said thirty before, but this is important. That’s the number of days that we’ve had to prepare to testify in front of the Ethics Committee. The impeachment vote in New Kingston is literally the next day. From the beginning, it all seems perfectly staged to me. As if someone has been working very hard behind the scenes to orchestrate up to this moment. I’m sorry if I feel like I’m throwing out conspiracy theories, babe, but it seems like all of this is falling into place just too easily.

  I’ve been working with my staff to sort through it, spending more time at Liam’s place than in Washington. It’s started to affect my regular daily schedule. I haven’t voted since the Senate has been in session and I’ve missed multiple committee meetings. I know there have been important meetings that I’ve missed because I’m tied up here. But I need to make sure I see this through.

  Carter and Liam begun by working together, but they realized they were expecting different things. Carter is expecting a chance to give his side of the story. That’s not going to happen. But Liam is expecting a political knife fight. I know it’s going to be a third option. I know there is one piece to the puzzle that I’m not getting.

  Ten, Fifteen, and Twenty.

  That Carter’s, Liam’s, and my job approval ratings, respectively. Over the past month, our negative opinion ratings have shot through the roof as people start believing the constant barrage from the press that I’ve turned Liam and Carter into corrupt, job-killing, environment-destroying, sex-crazed wretches.

  It’s gotten to the point where Liam and Carter have insisted that one of them go with me when I go outside.

  I’ve never needed a man to protect me. I’m not going to change that just because a few people are upset at my sex life.

  But, the possibilities of having sex in public are too good to pass up. So sometimes I pretend to play the hapless damsel in distress and it really gets them going. You can literally see both their cocks grow hard. I mean, in real time, you see the tent forming in their trousers. It’s pretty amazing actually. Two, thick, 12-inch cocks. That’s like, what? Two feet. Of lust muscle, as Liam calls it, inside of me? Can you imagine how hard it is to get anything done with those two men walking around shirtless in the house?

  One.

  That’s how many days we have until the Ethics Committee calls Carter and I to testify. I’ve been working and my staff has been getting me information round the clock. I know I’m close to figuring out what’s going on to cause this whole thing. I can sense I’m getting closer. I just don’t know where or when I’m going to hit the jackpot.

  Ten.

  That’s how many minutes ago I got a phone call. I can’t tell you from who just yet, hun. I know, I’m sorry. You’re really not going to know even if you skip to the end, so don’t even try. And don’t try now just to spite me. I know I’m stubborn like that sometimes too. Just know that I’m going to go out for a while.

  Don’t tell Liam or Carter if they ask, either. I think I might be on to something. But I’m not sure yet if it’s legitimate. I need to head into the city. And the last thing that Liam and Carter will be happy with is me going into New York City by myself without any security. But I’ll be fine. I’ll put on some yoga pants, a windbreaker, and some shades. No one will recognize me.

  I’m borrowing Carter’s Jag, in case he asks. Just move to the next page and pretend you didn’t see me leave, babe. Please. Their c
areers—my career—may very well depend on it.

  Carter

  The cameras flash as I walk into the crowded chamber. It’s the day of the Ethics Committee investigation as they weigh indicting me on corruption charges. But from the look and feel of things, you’d think it was the first day of the goddamn circus.

  I sit down at a table, as the lawmakers sit in a raised dais that forms a semi-circle facing me. The audience is behind me, with press kneeling across from me, underneath the legislators.

  You’ve seen this image a thousand times. Congressional hearings. Raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God? Well, I do. And if people are listening to me as I tell them the truth they’ll see that there is no corruption here. Just thinking about the future—something we should all be doing.

  "Governor Andrews, thank you for coming down to see us today," the Democratic Majority Leader begins. Of course he’s thanking me. The camera flashes are enough to blind you if you look at them too closely. This is more press coverage than he’s gotten all year. He's been keeping a low profile ever since those rumors of him and that underage Girl Scout came out on TMZ. Not that they were able to prove anything—the girl’s family all of a sudden moved to the Bahamas and seemed to have a large infusion of cash into their accounts. It boggles my mind that this man is in the same party as me. But what really gets me is that he’s sitting in judgment over me, determining if I’ve maybe had a lapse in judgment that I need to be investigated by him.

  "Thank you, Senator," I say back. The New York State Legislature is broken down into a State Senate and State Assembly. It’s the Senate that does the investigating. The Assembly just does the rubber stamping whatever I tell them to do. Right. You don’t need to correct me. They used to rubber stamp whatever I told them to do. Back when I had approval ratings that were in the double digits—way higher than the 9% they’re at now after falling sharply the last two days.

  "Let’s go ahead and get started, shall we," the Majority Leader says. "But before we do, I’d like to invite an outside counsel to also participate in the questioning considering that he has been so helpful in uncovering some of the more disturbing facts in this situation."

  Okay. So that’s unusual. You don't usually see outside players come into an Ethics Committee investigation. Because you haven’t had a chance to properly vet them. You don't know what kind of bias and agenda they’re coming in with. Plus, there was no real notice. I didn’t get a chance to prepare.

  For lack of a better word, it’s a bit…unethical.

  Shows you the kind of damn snakes I’m dealing with here. But that’s okay. Because I’m Carter Andrews. I became Governor based on my sheer ability to get things done. No one, and nothing, can take me down.

  That's what I think. That’s what I know. And I still believe it even when the Mayor of New York City, and Editor-In-Chief of the New York Daily Journal walks in. There’s some hushed whispering.

  "The chair recognizes Michael Anders, Mayor of New York City. Due to his position as the head of the Anders Media empire, he serves as Editor-In-Chief of the New York Daily Journal and has uncovered a great deal of the pertinent facts in this investigation," the Majority Leader says, as if reading from notes. He lifts his head to look at Michael. "Mr. Mayor, you have the floor to ask your questions."

  Michael nods. I can’t believe the Majority Leader, as a Democrat, is okay with letting Michael Anders grill me. The Mayor doesn’t have a political party affiliation, but anyone who’s read the Daily Journal over the last two months realizes that there’s some sort of bias there behind the tone of the newspaper against me.

  Michael Anders clears his throat.

  "Governor Andrews," he says into the microphone. "Can you please state your full name, your office and how long you have served in that office for the record?"

  I wonder what the Mayor is going to go for as I answer, "Carter Andrews, Governor of New York State for the last two years."

  The Mayor nods from his raised seat on the dais.

  "And would you conclude that your signature achievement in the first two years of your office would be what you refer to as the New York State Clean Air and Water Act?" Michael asks.

  I nod, but then realize I need to answer. "I do," I say. It’s true. You’ve heard me say it before. And I’m more than happy to say it again. The environmental legislation that I got through the State Legislature is going to save lives. It’s already saved lives.

  Michael nods and asks. "And Governor, were you in any way encouraged or prodded to push this legislation through at the expense of all others by any outside party?"

  What kind of a stupid question is that? I lean forward and simply say, "No."

  As if expecting this, Michael retorts with a, "I find that very hard to believe, Governor, that you would sacrifice pushing through a transportation bill, a crime bill, and a jobs bill, just to push through environmental legislation."

  "We still have two more years," I respond back.

  "You plan to work on those initiatives, next? Really?" Michael asks, voicing incredulity.

  "Yes," I answer back. I’m only going to answer questions here. When he gives me a chance to make my case, that’s when I’m going to verbally rip his goddamn throat out.

  "And that once you passed the environmental bill, you started attending fundraisers hosted by China First Bank; can you explain that as well?" Michael asks and I’m silent. I only went to it because I had to. I hate raising money. But it's a necessary evil. "Can you explain why up until passage of your environmental legislation you were never invited to a China First Bank fundraiser, but all of a sudden afterwards you found you had the time."

  Dammit. This isn’t going to look good when I tell him the truth. "I was busy being Governor before, but once that priority was taken care of, I began to think about the next four years and the kind of fundraising I’d have to do."

  "But you didn’t think of that before?" Michael asks. "You didn’t once ask for or receive an invitation to go to an event sponsored by China First Bank? You never thought to yourself that if you started fundraising as you call it, earlier, you’d have to raise less each day? All of a sudden these doors began to open up only once you passed the environmental bill, is that your story?

  I know what Michael Anders is trying to do here. I can see his strategy. He’s a snake.

  Everyone knows the billionaire mayor of New York City is looking to move up to becoming Governor one day. Everyone knows he’s got his eyes set on a prize even bigger than that.

  It all falls into place now. He’s trying to clear the way.

  Well, then he’s got another thing coming. It’s time to take my case directly to the people.

  "Governor Carter?" Michael asks, eyeing me with an evil smile. "Did you have an answer?"

  I take a sigh. This isn’t how I wanted to end up describing my actions. But you don’t always get a chance to pick and choose the time and place of the battle.

  "I think you’re a bit confused as to the nature of the environmental bill if you’re asking me that question," I say bluntly. "And I think it displays a curious lack of awareness in government for you to ask me that."

  There are some muted whispers that go through the room. I’ve just stood up to my interrogator. But I don’t stop. I need to keep going.

  "Imagine if you will turning on the water at your kitchen sink, and seeing thick brown sludge come out," I speak into the microphone. I can see several of the photographers turn white at the thought. "Imagine getting tumors from eating tainted beef. Having your lifespan shortened by twenty years because you inhaled too much methane. That’s all we attempted to stop."

  "Is that so. In that case can you…" Michael Anders tries to continue but I stop him. Hard.

  "Yes that is so, Mr. Mayor," I say sharply, raising some eyebrows. "And if you stopped once to look at the people who live in this state—aside from the other wealthy Manhattanites you surround
yourself with—you’d see that New Yorkers are getting sicker at a much higher rate than the rest of the nation. They’re also dying at an younger age."

  "Are you trying to say I don't know the…" Michael is about to start again but I cut him off.

  "I’m trying to say, Mayor," I say with a damn sneer. "That you don’t care about anyone other than yourself. You could care less about me, the environment, or even the jobs you think my bill is going to kill."

  "You’re out of line, Governor!" Michael shouts. "And as someone who is standing here testifying in the hopes of avoiding a corruption and bribery scandal, you’re not doing yourself a bit of good."

  I think back to the Mayor and everything surrounding him. How he only came out as gay six months ago, right before the New York City mayoral election. This man fooled a city of 8 million. It’s time for someone to show the world who he really is.

  "You want to know what I think?" Michael asks me aggressively. I don't get a chance to answer. But I bet you he’s going to tell me anyways. "I think you had a secret quid pro quo deal with the Chinese, Governor. Maybe not a deal—that implies intelligence. But they tugged at your heartstrings. Poor environment. Save the owl. Or something like that."

  Jesus Christ. I’m sitting there, silent as he continues. "And then once you did what they told you to like a good little boy, they decided to start rewarding you." There is angry grumbling all around me. People can’t believe this garbage, can they?

  "But, unfortunately Governor Andrews, this time you got your hand caught in the cookie jar. And now it's time to pay," Michael declares.

  I got to admit. This man has played me very admirably. This is going to be a lot more of a knife-fight than I realized.