Electing For her Curves: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  “Oh no, you don’t,” I tell myself out loud, quickly rinsing and drying myself, changing into a fresh suit before heading down to the Town Hall.

  Almost surprised to see all my signage still up by the time I get there.

  Without even noticing either until I get there, I’ve been whistling the whole time.

  Something I usually discourage from my own people and something I’ve never done myself.

  The sun’s shining, the air is crisp and invigorating with the freshness of the morning.

  Hell, even the sky looks bluer, the trees greener.

  If I didn’t know any better I’d say I was… in love?

  The thought itself makes me feel warm inside like my heart feels like it’s actually bigger somehow.

  Fuller.

  All of this stays with me, until I get to the inside of the Town hall, and directed by the event’s organizer, I find myself in Mayor Newland’s office.

  I expect to see Krystal with him, she’s his right hand in everything after all.

  But when I only notice a half dozen men in cheap suits and the Mayor frowning before someone behind me closes the door, I feel all my happiness disappear.

  Replaced with that old caveman protective instinct again.

  I’m not worried about the tongue-lashing I know is coming about all the signs I had put up.

  I don’t care what the other candidates think of me.

  I need to know where Krystal is, and I need to know now.

  But instead of any of this, we’re all invited to take a seat and after some introductions from Mayor Newland, he pushes a buzzer and a series of carts are wheeled in.

  A pretty elaborate looking breakfast with all the trimmings, which the other men seem impressed by.

  But I have something else on my mind.

  If Krystal’s not here, she must still be home.

  So why the fuck do I want to hang around here?

  There’s no mention of the signs I’ve had put up, or about the radio ads. Especially nothing mentioned about Krystal or her new dress.

  I catch Newland’s eyes a couple of times, but he’s done all this a dozen times. He’s in his Mayor Election mode and he does a pretty good job of hiding his true feelings.

  But I know people, and I can read him like an open book.

  Once he sees how much I want out, he starts to press the others to quiz me about my policy ideas if I win as Mayor. My plans for the town’s future and its people, its businesses.

  Everything I’ve not really even thought about much, winning to be closer to Krystal being my main focus.

  But his rouse works, and I’m held up for a good hour and a half fielding questions about my past, present, and future, both as prospective Mayor as well as a general outsider.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Krystal

  Lack of sleep, hungry from no breakfast, and most of all the shock of dad acting like such a jerk.

  I do what any self-respecting girl would do given the current situation.

  I start to cry.

  The last time I felt anywhere near as bad was back in college. My first month there.

  Being the new kid from a small town and a little on the thicker side of things physically, it made me a prime target for the butt of everyone else’s jokes.

  Most kids came from the same high school or the same city at least.

  Me, I was the outsider and I cried plenty of times, especially those first few months.

  The last time I cried were the tears of joy when I finished college, so today is a bad flashback to my early college days made worse because I’m not even there anymore.

  I cry until I hear my dad leave the house and his car starts up and pulls out of the driveway.

  Within a few moments, I can feel my tears drying up like all my problems have moved away from me suddenly.

  He’s under a lot of pressure, I know. But I don’t know if I can understand fully why he’s treating me like this. I’m an adult now.

  The thought of the gown, the smell of its newness fills my nose once it unblocks from crying. I lay it out on the bed and read James’ card again.

  And again, and again.

  I want you in this.

  And what’s owed, my kiss.

  See you at the ball.

  James.

  Dad forbids it for some reason, something he’s never done in my whole life. I’ve been by his side for every electoral dinner, dance, and meeting for every one of his years as Mayor.

  But James commands it, he wants me there. He wants me and has given me the perfect outfit to go in.

  I grimace again, groaning when I tell myself it won’t fit. It can’t fit.

  Most of the clothes I own barely fit me properly anymore and until I saw James I didn’t mind so much.

  Today of all days, I wish I could be thirty pounds lighter. Just for one day even.

  Long enough to-

  Why don’t you try it on and see?

  I can hear his deep voice in my mind, feel the warmth of his hands on me again as I recall just how close he was.

  Close enough to take my measurements?

  God, I freaking hope not.

  I got his measurement though and pressing the same hand to my chest, I recall just how thick and hard he felt as he stood behind me yesterday.

  In seconds I’ve stripped and am in the shower, wanting to be my cleanest before even daring to touch my new outfit again let alone try it on.

  Thinking of James, knowing he wants me in that dress is enough to get rid of the horrible feelings courtesy of my dad.

  He can forbid all he likes, but I’m going to James and I’m going to give myself to him, I know it.

  What happens after that, who knows?

  I should wash my hair too, but as I feel the warm water refreshing me all over, and knowing I have a ball to go to, I start to consider another option.

  Drying off and pulling a fresh robe on, I check my bank balance on my phone.

  Not great.

  Not broke, but not great.

  It’ll probably break the bank, but I’ve always wanted to have my hair, nails, and face done.

  By someone who knows what they’re doing, I mean.

  If I’m to look my best for James, I have to put myself in the hands of a professional.

  An easy choice considering Woods End only has one beauty salon.

  Before I risk making the appointment, there’s one thing I have to do first.

  I have to know.

  To be sure.

  My hands are shaking as I pick up the gown again, hoping and praying I can even fit into it. If I need to get it adjusted, I’ll have to hurry and make sure I can even afford to.

  But just like having James’ hands on me, slipping into the dress, I realize he’s had it made just for me, it feels just right.

  Perfect.

  It’s an open back, black gown that has an opening in the front just big enough to show the cleavage I’m proud of while giving my chest enough lift at the same time.

  It hugs all my curves, which feels weird but only enough to again, highlight the parts of my body I’m happy with.

  I look at myself from the side and from behind and finally, I’m left staring in amazement.

  It feels like it cost a fortune and I already want to show James. I wish I could just call him up and tell him to come over, or swing by his office again.

  But I daren’t, not knowing exactly where or what my dad’s doing right now.

  I hope he’s calmed down enough to not make a scene tonight.

  Groaning out loud, I remember everything about today, and tonight I’m supposed to be helping my dad with.

  He’s never had to do everything on his own but he’s never blown his stack at me like he did this morning either.

  Noticing the lines in my face I sit gingerly on the edge of my bed, almost wringing my hands as I try and figure out what to do.

  If I just breeze into the town hall and do what I’d normally do, I r
un the risk of making my dad even angrier.

  But if I just sit here all day, nothing will get done and I definitely won’t get to see James either.

  Either way, I know how I feel about my dad right now, and it’s not a great feeling. He hurt me by yelling at me, forbidding me to do what I know is the only thing that’s felt right my whole life so far.

  With forced optimism, I carefully examine the shoes in the box as well.

  Just like the dress, they fit perfectly. It’s as though James knew everything about me from my bust size to my shoe size just from our brief encounters.

  There’s also a pair of long gloves too and a mask for the ball.

  “The perfect disguise,” I joke to myself out loud.

  Suddenly sitting upright as it hits me.

  My lips turning to a scheming smile.

  Yes. The perfect disguise.

  Snapping to attention again in front of the mirror, I move my hair this way and that, holding it roughly in place with some clips before I put on the mask and even the gloves.

  Narrowing my eyes, and glancing sideways at myself, hell. I hardly recognize myself, and who else in the world has ever seen me dressed like this?

  I feel my hands shaking again, this time with an excitement that’s bubbling up from deep down inside me.

  Down in the James center of my body. The place I know I need him the most and the place I know he wants to be as well. The place in me he’s awoken simply by looking at me, igniting it with his touch.

  Knowing my outfit actually fits, and makes me look none too shabby if I do say so myself, I carefully slip out of it and back into my regular day clothes.

  Making my way downstairs, I feel nervous still, like my dad will appear any second and start shouting again. But once I get some breakfast into me and a strong coffee under my belt, I set to work finding the number for the only salon in town and call them up.

  “What do you mean?” I ask the busy sounding woman on the end of the line.

  “I mean, we’re fully booked out. The dinner and ball tonight…?” she adds as if she’s talking to someone from another planet.

  Crap.

  “Ah, of course,” I agree, trying to think.

  Think!

  “…It’s just my Dad said you might be able to squeeze me in… Mayor Newland?” I ask, wincing a little and hating myself for name-dropping but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  “Oh,” she exclaims. “I didn’t know it was you, Krystal,” she gushes. Both of us know we’ve never met but everyone knows who Krystal Newland is in town.

  I can hear the flitting of pages in her schedule as she stifles a groan.

  “What did you want done Krystal? I can spare an hour if I skip lunch,” she says, trying to sound enthusiastic but I can feel the annoyance down the phone.

  “Oh, just fix my hair and face. Maybe tidy up my nails,” I half sigh, trying to sound like I go to the salon every week but having no idea what I actually want.

  Could you just disguise me as somebody else?

  After an awkward silence, she exhales. “Alright then, Krystal. If you come in later in the day, we’ll see what we can do for you,” she says before hanging up.

  It’s better than nothing and gives me the rest of the day to figure out what to do about my dad.

  With my masked ball disguise in the works, I don’t think it would be wise to go to the dinner part of tonight’s plans.

  Dad’s seen the dress, and I know he wouldn’t recognize me in it, but he’s forbidden me from even going to either the dinner or the ball.

  So I guess I’ll just have to try and sneak into the ball and find James.

  CHAPTER TEN

  James

  Rubbing shoulders with local business owners who are obviously token candidates for Mayor, as well as the Mayor himself is about as much as I can take.

  After about an hour of their banter, I can feel my own question forming on my lips but know better than to ask.

  Fortunately, somebody else eventually asks for me, once the breakfast meeting seems to be well and truly running out of steam.

  “Where’s young Krystal, Bob?” One of the men asks, and I can see the change in her dad’s face that tells me so much more than the man himself ever would.

  He looks pained, then angry, and finally, upset.

  “Uh… I’m not sure really, Mike,” he stammers as he glances at his watch.

  “She wasn’t feeling too great last night, I might give her a call if we’re done here?” he asks, looking at everyone except me as he ushers us all towards the door.

  I feel his hand on my arm, me being the last one about to leave his office.

  I tense for a moment but force myself to relax. My reflex is to give him a free lesson in don’t touch James Silverthorn if you like your teeth that way, but I’m playing a longer game here and I know what my prize is.

  I crease a smile and cock my brow in question.

  “Mr. Silverthorn, I’ll say this just once,” he says with an intensity that grabs my attention.

  His hand claws into my arm some more, but more from desperation than anything else.

  “Stay away from my daughter.”

  His voice is breaking with emotion as I free my arm from his grip.

  I adjust my tie while giving him a curious sideways glance, wanting to say so much but choosing to say nothing for now.

  It’ll all come to a head when it’s time. I can save everything I have to say until then, and hopefully so will Krystal.

  I catch up with Mike, the other candidate, who directs me to an empty office I can use for the rest of the day.

  “If you’ve brought your formalwear, it’s easier to change here and freshen up between the dinner and the ball,” he recommends with a wink, “…Not unusual for us to sleep the night off on the couches in there either if you know what I mean,” he adds with a hearty chuckle.

  I grimace a smile, dreading this whole dinner thing already and feeling like I need to speak with Krystal more than anyone else in the whole town right now.

  Bidding my fellow candidate goodbye, for now, I make for the phone, figuring I can get ahold of someone to patch me through to the Mayor’s house seeing as how I was in such a rush I forgot to program her home phone into my cell.

  But today’s just one of those days, and before I can even get a line to the switchboard, I’m interrupted yet again.

  The phone creaks in my hand as I hang it up.

  Its Jules, the event planner.

  “Sorry, Mr. Silverthorn,” he says quietly, closing the door behind him after looking out again to make sure we really are alone.

  “It’s just…” he starts to say before looking at his feet.

  “What is it?” I ask with strained patience. I’ve had enough games for one morning and I don’t think I feel like waiting until dinner or the damned ball before I get to see my Krystal again.

  “It’s Mayor Newland, Sir. He’s made me change the seating arrangements. But I haven’t told you that,” he adds quickly, flushing a deep red color.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “He hasn’t said so directly, but I don’t think his daughter will be attending either the dinner or the ball,” he says gravely, gnawing his lip and picking at the edge of his folder.

  “Thanks for letting me know, Jules. I’ll keep it to myself,” I assure him as he disappears as quickly and quietly as he appeared.

  Puffing air out of my cheeks, I loosen my tie. It feels like I can’t get enough air suddenly.

  Thinking about Krystal, her dad, and how he seems dead set on keeping her away from me is one thing. But having to keep up the charade of running for Mayor, something I’ve put literally no effort into so far, is something else.

  I can’t do both, it seems. I can’t sit here all day, looking for hands to shake and people to impress when I know Krystal’s out there somewhere, all alone.

  Without me to watch over her.

  To give her what I kn
ow she so desperately needs.

  Thinking about her though, imagining her in the outfit I had made for her. I feel my breathing come a little faster but easier when it’s because of her.

  The memory of her curves in my mind brings a smile to my face as I snap up the office phone again, already feeling better as I ask the switchboard for Mayor Newland’s home number.

  “Um, Mayor Newland’s in his office, Sir,” The receptionist chirps, “Putting you through-”

  I manage to catch her before she does, explaining I want his home phone number.

  “I can try the number for you, one moment,” she clips and I’m on hold for all of ten seconds.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. There’s no answer, Mayor Newland is in his office though.”

  I stifle a growl before asking as politely as I can for the number. “In case I need to call him at home later,” I explain.

  The phone clicks and I can hear her shifting in her seat. “It’s not council policy to give out the home numbers of staff, Sir. I can put you through to Mayor Newland, maybe he can give you his numb-”

  I slam the phone down, smelling a small town’s sudden conspiracy to keep me from seeing Krystal.

  I could be imagining it, but I’ve been around the block enough times, and in much bigger circles than small town Mayors to know when the knives are out.

  The decision’s easy. If Krystal won’t come to me and I can’t reach her, then I’ll go to her.

  Simple.

  It’s early in the day still, I can see her and explain a few things, like how much I fucking want her, and then maybe stow her away at my place until I can make a brief appearance at the stupid dinner and ball before heading home and claiming her properly.

  It’s so clear to me now.

  It’ll work in both our favors if she’s not expected at either event. I can slip out easily when her dad’s giving one of his pompous ass speeches about himself.

  Maybe we could even just leave, get away from here altogether.

  I’ll have what I came for. Do I really need to be Mayor of some tree-lined backwater town?

  My mind’s made up and there’s no point trying to win any friends in the Town Hall or the Mayor’s office.