by Lee Taylor
Gia stared at him, speechless. Logan had risen to his feet and taken over the meeting. Picking up a remote from the counter, he pointed it toward what she had thought was a television screen but was apparently a monitor. When the screen came to life, he said, “I’ve been doing some research. I needed to get up on your base, Gia, to know where we are.” Ignoring her surprised gasp, he spoke to the group as a whole. “I commissioned a number of polls that, to say the least, are interesting. First, on Gus.” A picture of a grinning Gus Underwood took over the screen. In minutes, a number of multicolored charts filled the display. “Look at these polls. Yes, Gus has his party firmly behind him and against Gretchen; the election is a cakewalk.” Logan’s voice rose at the next series of graphs. “But look at these numbers. They’re what I call the enthusiasm scale. Hell, even with diehard supporters, Gus’s support is lukewarm. Which isn’t all that surprising given that his party hasn’t invested anything in the race yet. At the moment, that’s because it’s a dead certainty he will win.” Bringing up a new set of charts, Logan didn’t couch his excitement. “Now, look at these numbers. I ran these polls asking people to react to you, Gia, and to what happened in the Maxwell race. Nearly eighty percent of the public, across party lines, blamed Aiden for the fiasco. We dug deeper. As you can see, people were impressed with how you handled the crisis. Nearly sixty-five percent gave you a good or excellent rating. You impressed them, Gia, with your courage and your actions. The fact that you took responsibility—even going to the police and hell, the girl’s parents—drove your numbers sky-high. And damn, princess, your name recognition is unbelievable. It’s close to ninety-five percent.” Bringing up another set of charts, Logan continued. “Of course there are detractors. Some who think no Tremaine is free of scandal. For the most part they are the die-hard Republicans. But the moderates in both parties, the independents, and, of course, the liberals think you’re impressive.”
Jerry Riley blew out a hard sigh and summed up the reaction of the stunned group. “Hell, Gia, we all knew that Big Bart could sell ice to an Eskimo and sand to a Bedouin. But it seems from Logan’s research that more than a little of the big guy’s mojo rubbed off on you.”
Logan smiled in agreement, then pulled up an organization chart describing his vision of the campaign structure. He pointed to the top line. “Ben will run the campaign. He’s more than proven himself, and he’s had a hell of a role model. Ben and I had a preliminary conversation with Kaitlin and Emma, and they are thrilled to be part of the team. I’ve got some special wet work lined up for crazy Syl.” He grinned at Gia and Ben. “You two don’t know it, but you have a stealth weapon in that kid. Let’s just say it takes one to know one.” He nodded to Elliott and Paul. “I’m especially pleased that you agreed to chair the fundraising. You both have enormous cache in this congressional district. Best of all, in my book, you are known for supporting both parties. We know we have the libs in the tank, but we can’t beat Underwood with just the loony left. We need moderates from across the board to pull this off. Your reputations as financial supporters of both parties will send a clear signal.”
He turned to Jerry and Max. “I’m counting on you both to bring Big Bart’s gang on line. Perhaps more important to keep the big guy contained. From what you all have said, Mr. Tremaine has a hard time avoiding the spotlight. Even if it’s shining on his baby girl.”
Max caught his gaze and said with a quizzical smile, “I’m impressed, Mr. Fowler. You have more than lived up to your billing as a master manipulator.”
Logan laughed. “The name is Logan, and yes, I will accept your description of my talents. I might prefer the designation as an organizational master, but you’re correct. Manipulation is clearly involved.”
Max nodded in agreement. “Given that, Logan, I’m curious. How do you see your role?”
Logan allowed a smile to curve his lips. “Ah yes, my role. Like any good general, I’ve assigned myself the most challenging role.” He glanced at Gia, who looked dumbfounded and hadn’t spoken once since her query about her father. Logan blew out a hard sigh. “Simply put, my job is to see that Gia gets to be Gia. She would have you believe that she always plays behind the scenes. But anyone who has seen her in action knows that isn’t true. When Gia is in the room, she sucks up every bit of available oxygen. Now, for the first time, she is going to claim that gift, admit to being the luminary that she is. As for my role, I’m going to see that she does exactly that.”
****
Sitting up against the headboard, Logan put down his phone when Gia walked in. He blew out a wolf whistle. “Damn, I’m impressed with your guy. Clearly, he’s been studying you. How else would he know what your body would do to a pair of innocent-looking pink shorty pajamas?”
Gia snorted and didn’t try to tug at the booty shorts that were riding up her ass, revealing a good bit of her curvy cheeks. She knew it was equally useless to pretend that the strip of pink satin that was doing its abbreviated best to capture her lush breasts was up to the job. “I don’t know what to say, Logan, except that the saleswomen in the shops you frequent must be impressed with your choices. I’m sure they never thought that anyone would actually wear this risqué ensemble. But I agree with your observation. The ‘pretty in pink’ innocent vibe makes these outrageous jammies the sexiest I’ve ever had.”
Logan patted the place beside him. “No, sweetheart, what brings those pj’s to striptease perfection is the beautiful woman wearing them. So, if you would please, get your booty over here so I can feast on you.”
Gia crawled in beside him, then frowned up at him. “Please tell me you aren’t serious, Logan, about that crazy campaign idea.”
Logan pulled her next to him. “As serious as a heart attack, sweetheart. Which I may have, just looking at you in these cock-teasing pajamas. But now, if you don’t mind, I’m done talking about your campaign for tonight. I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that you are running for Congress and, sweetheart, if I have anything to do with it—which I do—you are going to win.” At her gasp, he shook his head. “Enough politics. I need you, Gia.” Rubbing his beard shadow against her cheek, sending a shower of sparks over her receptive body, he murmured, “You have to promise me that no matter how consumed we get with the campaign, you understand that making love to you is my number-one priority. Promise?”
When she nodded and clung to him, he said, “But before I bury myself in your beautiful body, I need to make something clear. For the second, or is it the third, time you flagrantly disobeyed me when you chose to arrive at our soiree more than an hour late.”
“Disobeyed you? What am I? A child who has to obey her daddy?”
He grinned, but she didn’t miss the flame burning in his eyes. When she tried to pull away from him, he yanked her back and murmured, “Let’s just say as your lover, I have a number of tasks. Ensuring that you behave is just one of them.” Ignoring her outraged screech, he continued. “To that end, I have a long-overdue appointment with that curvy ass of yours. And unfortunately, sweetheart, as sexy as these ass-hugging panties are, they need to go.”
Gia hitched back and snarled. “Says who? In case you don’t know, Logan, your macho act isn’t turning me on. In fact, it’s damn annoying.”
“Hmm, I beg to differ, princess. I haven’t even spanked you yet, and your breath is coming faster in anticipation.” He murmured in her ear, “Why do you think that is, Gia? I think it’s because you want me to do what you’ve been asking for, make that begging for.”
She backed up and shoved at him with an angry shriek.
“Uh-uh, princess, I think you are looking forward to this as much as I am. Given that, I think it’s high time I deliver on my sexy threat.”
She leapt from the bed and glared at him. “If you think for one minute, you arrogant asshole, that I would ever let you do that to me . . . ”
In one fluid move, Logan sat up on the edge of the bed and cut off her escape. Grabbing her with one long arm, he hauled her over his
knees. Before she could fight free, he yanked down her panties, baring her ass. At her infuriated cry and fierce attempt to break away, he locked her kicking legs between his strong thighs. “Uh-uh, baby, this is how naughty girls are spanked. On their bare bottoms. Because, sweetheart, nothing is sexier than seeing my handprints reddening your curvy ass.” Holding her in place, he smacked one curvy cheek hard and growled, “That’s for coming home late tonight.”
She cried out in shock. “Oh my God, Logan. That hurts!”
He snorted. “It’s supposed to, sweetheart. And these next ones are for destroying three thousand dollars of expensive whiskey.”
When she shrieked in fury, he warned, “Just so you know, Gia, temper tantrums will always be punished—count on it.” He ignored her enraged shriek, her pleading cries that he stop, then her sobs that he was hurting her. After several more hard smacks on her gorgeous bottom, Logan was overcome with lust. He groaned. “Jesus God, Gia, I wish you could see your ass. I can’t remember when I’ve seen a sexier sight.” His voice rife with passion, he cautioned her, “I’m going to take you now, Gia, long and hard. But first I want you up on your hands and knees.” Lifting her off his lap, he dragged her up into the raunchy position, then rose up behind her and crowed, “Yes, like this! Christ, yes. With your ass high in the air. Damn, Gia, do you have any idea how sexy your rosy red ass is?”
Long after they had made love in every conceivable position and he’d wrung untold orgasms from her willing body, he wrapped her in his arms and held her next to him. He gloried in the beautiful woman that he admitted he was falling in love with. When her whispery breaths confirmed that she was sleeping soundly, he carefully untangled himself from her tender hold. Slipping out of their sensuous nest, he moved through the quiet rooms to the outside patio. Pouring himself a healthy dose of his Macallan, he selected an Arturo Fuente Don AnniverXario cigar from the gold-foiled box under the counter. Taking a large draft of the excellent whiskey, he followed it with a satisfied pull on the fragrant cigar. Leaning over the balcony rail, he took out his phone and hit a coded key.
He chuckled at the immediate response. “I’m not surprised you were waiting for me to check in.”
“Ya think? Look, buddy, we all know you are a high-wire artist, but Jesus, dude, even for you, aren’t you pushing the envelope a bit? It’s hard to stay under the radar when you’re openly attached to a superstar like Gia Tremaine.”
“I admit I didn’t expect to fall for her the way that I have.”
“Fuck it, man. It would be hard not to.”
Logan was silent for a long moment, then, eschewing his bonhomie, he said curtly, “Given that, nothing has changed.”
“Uh, sure thing, sir, if you say so.”
“Listen, agent, I’m serious, as you should be. As we know only too well, the stakes are high, and we’ve come too far to settle for anything but an unqualified success.”
****
“Excuse me, Ms. Engle. It appears we have a change in our format.”
Gretchen Engle looked up from the notes she’d been studying and glared at the flushed debate moderator. “What kind of a change? Obviously, we agreed on the format, and it’s a little late to make any changes.”
“Um, ah, yes, that is essentially correct. But we have always had an open invitation to other campaigns. Until now, no one accepted our invitation.”
Gretchen was incredulous. “And they have now?”
“Yes, ma’am. Apparently, they have.”
Gia strode into the room and smiled at the astonished candidate. Holding up the paper detailing participation in the televised debate, she said pleasantly, “Good afternoon, Gretchen. As you’ll note, any registered candidate may participate in the debate.”
“But . . . but there aren’t any other registered candidates. Unless . . . unless, you’ve sprung your disgusting pedophile client from jail.”
“Fortunately, Aiden Maxwell’s well-deserved future will be strictly confined for some years to come. No, Gretchen, my candidate is as passionate a feminist as you are, but she is also an advocate of men. She believes that together, we can build a society that celebrates strong women and men who are willing to tackle the significant issues our country faces.”
Gretchen sneered. “Who might that be, Gia?”
“You’re looking at her, Gretchen. Me.”
AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading Against the Odds. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I enjoyed writing it. I’ve been itching to write this series. I’m a politico at heart. I’m all over the map as to the candidates I support, but I particularly love the game of politics—all the behind the scenes machinations. And I’m counting on Gia and Logan to ruffle all the feathers and, of course, the sheets as they fight and love their way to what is hopefully victory.
Be sure to watch for the next three books in The Candidate series: Passion Meets Politics: Book 2: State of Play: Book 3, and Line of Fire: All Gia’s Men; Book 4.
If you enjoyed Against the Odds, do a huge favor for me. Click on this link and write an honest review of the book. Authors live and die by their reviews. The few extra seconds it takes really helps us authors out. Many, many thanks! AND please go to my website www.taylorleebooks.com for my publishing schedule and lots of FREE stuff! Sign up for my newsletter. It is the way I stay connected to my glorious readers.
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