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"Go ahead, Governor," she tells me, stepping aside with a coy smile. I look at her with a wide smile, reading the eagerness all over her face. I’d just have to say the word and she’d be on her knees in a heartbeat. But I didn’t come here to allow myself to get distracted; I have a job to do.
"Thank you," I tell her, and reach for the handle of the door and turn it. I step inside the office, my pupils widening in response to the dim light inside: the curtains are drawn, and aside from a lamp in the corner, the lights are out. Standing behind a massive oak desk is Liam Jeffries, the infamous New Kingston mayor. He has his feet propped up on the desk, his hands behind h
is head, and a lazy grin on his face. I didn’t exactly expect a warm reception, but this is almost too much. I have the sense that he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me.
"Here he is—the wonder Governor in the flesh, Carter Andrews!" he says merrily, taking his feet from the desk and standing up. He draws the curtains, sunlight streaming into the room and filling it with a warm gentle light. Squinting his eyes, Liam extends me his hand. "Sorry, late night yesterday," he tells me, not bothering to hide the fact that his late night had nothing do with work. He has "hangover" written all over his face. Not that it surprises me; from the stories I’ve heard, Liam lives for two things only: pussy and liquor.
"I figured as much," I say, shaking his hand firmly. I can do without all the formality most politicians love so much, but Liam’s casual ways just manage to piss me off. After all, I didn’t come here to be his buddy. I came with a warning.
"So, what brings such a busy man to my humble office?" he asks, sitting back down on his chair and pointing to the other one in front of the desk, offering me a seat. I sit, unbuttoning my jacket, and prepare my words.
"You know why I’m here," I tell him straight away, not wanting to beat around the bush. "The deal you’ve made … you have a few ways to call it off.
"Oh, you came all this way just to tell me that? You could've just called," he props his feet on top of the table again, looking at me with that annoying grin on his face. "The answer is no." I open my mouth to speak, but he raises his hand and cuts me short. "No means no. And it’s a fucking no, Governor."
Here we go. He’s just a Mayor, and he thinks of himself a king. He has no idea how close he is to having the living daylights knocked out of him.
"Like I told the news when they asked, I got three words for you Carter," Liam says, leaning back. "Go fuck yourself."
"Liam," I start, saying his first name pointedly, "Your deal flies in the face of the environmental legislation I’ve just passed." I don’t give two shits if I’m disrespecting him by not addressing him as Mayor—as far as I’m concerned, this guy is just another idiot who doesn’t even deserve an ounce of respect.
"Yeah, yeah. I don’t give two fucks about it. You might like to pass all kinds of laws while you’re sitting on your fancy Governor’s chair, but I’m living in the real world. I don’t have the time for your political agenda bullshit of the week; I became Mayor in this city because I care about the people here, not because I want to be another fucking cog in the state’s machine." I hear his words, but I can barely believe them. I fought tooth and nail to create a law that would protect our state for years to come, and this guy is pissing all over it with a grin … and that while trying to feed me some fake altruistic bullshit. Who the hell does he think he is?
"That’s not how it works. You can’t just do what you want; you’re a Mayor. Kindergarten is over, Liam. Listen to me and act like a real man for once." This is like talking to a kid who has decided to play a game intended for grown-ups. How in the hell did this guy end up a mayor?
"That’s fucking rich of you, to come here and tell me I can’t secure thousands of jobs for New Kingston. Why don’t you go visit all the people who need these jobs and tell them that they should sign up for food stamps because you’ve signed some bullshit piece of paper. I bet that would go really well, Governor."
I knew this guy would be tough to deal with, but I didn’t expect this. He’s not tough; he’s an asshole, one who doesn’t care about anything. He doesn’t even want to negotiate or talk about what can be done. This damn bastard just wants to prove he’s better than everyone else. If it weren’t for the political consequences of it, I could just bury my fist into his face and ruin that pretty face of his. You pick up a few things while serving in Iraq, and ruining pretty boys’ faces is one of them.
"I don’t know who you think are, Liam, but this isn’t the Wild West. You can’t simply flood the city with factories and postpone the consequences. And there are consequences."
"Oh, I know all about consequences, Carter," he tells me, using my first name as a provocation. Unconsciously, I feel my hands balling into fists. I’ve always hated spoiled little kids like him. He takes his feet off of the table and leans toward me, his grin fading away as his expression turns into a hard one. "For instance, the consequences to your words are that you’re no longer welcome here."
I’m not welcome? In my own state? This guy has no idea who he’s talking to. Whether he likes it or not, he will have to bend. In the end, everyone does. I get up from my seat and look him in the eye, the tension in the room increasing.
"Enjoy your little fantasy while it lasts, Liam. Because, in the end, you have no power. No choice." Leaving my words hanging in the air, I turn on my heels and leave his office.
Five minutes. That was how long it took for us to declare war to each other. I smile inwardly; if he wants war, he’s going to get one.
And I’m going to crush him… With a smile on my lips.
Vivian
I swear, I don’t even need an alarm clock to wake up most mornings. Most of my friends swear that they need a couple of minutes to snooze, or a solid 8 hours of sleep. Not me. A good five hours and I’m good to go. Hell, I could probably do with three. Or less.
Like last night. I think I may have finally passed out after the sex at around 3 am. I look over to the clock.
It’s 6:45 am. I always wake up at 6:45 am. So what is that? Slightly less than four hours. I can live with that. I won’t be draggy and tired all day. Besides, it was worth it. Sex is always worth it, in my opinion. It doesn’t have to always be toe-curling sex. It can be regular sex, or even sometimes bad sex. It depends what you end up doing with it. It’s like a movie. Even if it’s a bad movie, only rarely do you stop watching it. Or reading. Even if it’s a bad book, you usually finish to the end. I mean, sometimes you just DNF, but that’s not this book, is it? Because you only just met me, hun, and let me tell you, I think you’re going to like the ride I get to go on.
Anyways, back to the sex last night. It wasn’t the best. The guy, what’s his name? I forgot.
I look over to my right. He’s sleeping peacefully. Poor baby. He must be worn out. See, his cock was too small for me. I think it was only about four and a half inches. I swear—no lying. I was actually pretty intrigued. I asked him how big his cock was at the bar he picked me up at when I was having a drink after the Senate adjourned for the day, and he had told me it was ‘big enough to make me scream’.
I guess he meant scream in amazement because when I saw it a few hours later in my apartment, while I did feel a bit cheated, I was also really intrigued. Instead of kicking him out, I told him if he put on two condoms (to maybe make his cock bigger?) and gave me head while I read the latest Simone Sowood book on my Kindle he could fuck me afterward.
He was so grateful I wasn’t kicking him out he did exactly what I asked. That’s right. The guy next to me is a lobbyist for some group or another. Mr. Big Bad Lobbyist, thinking he’s going to go run for Congress. Too bad he has a baby dick and that Alpha Male façade just crumbles like nothing else when faced with a real woman. Like you or me—he can’t handle us.
Seriously, babe. I’ve dated a lot of guys. I’m not a slut; I don’t indiscriminately sleep around. I always want to go with the Alpha. I’ve done billionaires, CEOs, actors, Senators, Congressmen, Mafia lords, highlanders, princes, hell—even a guy claiming to be a fucking dragon.
