Governor (Governor Trilogy 1)

by Lesli Richardson

  Let the network cameras eat that up. Of everything I say, that’s the lightning rod that will draw press coverage, and I welcome it. I know we’re live in at least Tampa, Orlando, Tallahassee, Jacksonville, and Miami. And MSNBC and CNN are likely carrying this live, too.

  Fuck FNB, I don’t care if they’re showing it. Them or Fox.

  No one thought I’d do it, but we did.

  The underdog.

  The third-party nobody.

  The next governor of the great state of Florida.

  I still have another paragraph to get through. “There are too many people for me to thank to remember them all.” I glance to either side of me and list the major people who are there, list a few who aren’t. I specifically call out Dad, Katie, and the kids.

  Fuck you, Mom.

  “I also want to thank all of you who voted for me, who knocked on doors, who called people, who drove people to polling places, who helped register voters. You did this. You are every bit as responsible for this, and don’t think we’re going to forget it. We ran a campaign without dark money. We ran a campaign without the NRA’s help—in opposition to the NRA. I’m proud to be an F-minus candidate in the eyes of the NRA. We ran a campaign listening to you. We ran a campaign for you. You made this possible, and you have every right to celebrate this victory as your victory.”

  I go off-script here. “Last but not least, I want to thank Benchley Evans, for all his hard work behind the scenes, for believing in us and in our campaign, and for believing enough in our goals to support us. Also, because he’s the father of your new Lieutenant Governor-Elect. And, of course, I want to thank your Lieutenant Governor-Elect, Susannah Evans.”

  I turn, clapping, and she’s smiling, pink high in her cheeks as she steps forward and nods, waves.

  “I also want to thank her husband, Carter Wilson, for letting me borrow her for the next four years—and hopefully four more after that.” That gets me some laughs. “Oh, and for putting up with me all these years. Ever since we were roommates in college. He’s my best friend, my adopted big brother, my chief of staff, and the first person who ever told me he believed in me and would vote for me. Thank you, Sir.”

  I turn and applaud. Carter’s gaze is on me as he steps forward, holding his hand up, smiling and waving to the crowd. Only the three of us know I said Sir with a capital S.

  “I’m going to turn the podium over to your lieutenant governor-elect, now. I know y’all would rather talk to her than me, anyway.” That earns me another, slightly louder round of laughs.

  I turn, giving her a little half bow from the waist. “Ma’am,” I softly say as I wave her in.

  I step back to stand at Carter’s right side. When he slings his arm around me, like a casual bro hug, I drape mine over his shoulders and unfasten the button on my blazer so it doesn’t pull weird.

  Like that, we stand there and listen to Her speak.

  I don’t even care what she says.

  All I care about is that, for this exact moment in time, we’re here, together. The three of us. I care about making sure I get a copy of a picture of me and Carter standing there and listening to Her speak.

  And I know that we are seriously going to kick some motherfucking ass.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  It feels like forever before we can finally head upstairs again and everyone leaves. I’m exhausted, and not just physically.

  I stand at the windows in our suite, looking out over downtown Tampa, and hope to hell I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life doing this. That it won’t ruin us.

  Susa walks up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. I’ve shed the jacket again, and my shirt sleeves are rolled up, my tie loosened and the top button unfastened on my shirt.

  “We did it,” she says. She sounds so happy and contented in this moment that all my fears evaporate.

  This.

  Her.

  She is why I did this, the only reason I did this. Yes, in the back of my mind I wanted this, but had it been up to me we wouldn’t be standing here right now. The plan we have to follow so she can get elected on an Independent ticket. Otherwise, I’d be a mildly successful attorney in private practice leaving work at the office every Friday afternoon before heading home to jump in the pool or do…whatever.

  Unless Carter and I had hooked up anyway, I’d also probably be alone and miserable. Maybe not openly miserable, but definitely not happy.

  Satisfied.

  Content.

  Only by giving up control to Her and Carter got us here, and don’t think I don’t know that.

  “What time is it?” I ask, knowing we can’t spend the whole night celebrating. There will be early morning news shows to prep for, interviews to give, and I need sleep so my first official statements don’t make me look like a tool.

  “Almost one,” Carter says. I hear him walk over and feel him drape his arms around Susa and me from behind, pressing her firmly between us.

  I reach back, around her, my fingers hooking through Carter’s belt loops.

  We stand like that for a couple of minutes, them knowing I need this time to breathe and reflect and compose myself.

  They know me like no one else knows me.

  It also hits me that I don’t want to be anywhere else but right here, with these two people. It means I’ll do whatever they ask of me, because they’ve proven over the years that they have my back and will do anything for me. They are ruthlessly on my side, and that’s no exaggeration.

  They love me, and I love them. I can’t imagine life without them.

  “What’s tomorrow?” I finally ask.

  “Wake-up call at five thirty,” Carter says. “Need to have you over to WFLA by six thirty to prep for their interview, the Today interview, and the MSNBC appearance. I got them to agree to film the morning one and the afternoon one on top of each other instead of making you come back to sit for a live shot later. Then to WTSP at eight for them and theirs. Fox affiliate at ten, and then back here for CNN and FNB at noon. Lunch up here, a nap for you, then a shorter round of afternoon interviews, including another live NBC Evening News spot.”

  I grumble at that second-to-last one. “Can’t cut those bastards at FNB from the list, huh?”

  “We’re not playing that game,” Carter says. “We’re not running a banana republic, and I don’t give a shit how crappy they are, they’re still getting press credentials. Pet, you need to prepare, too. You’ll be with Dray tomorrow, and he’ll be knocking at six. He’s got your schedule and will take care of you, along with Elise.

  “Kevin Markos can go fuck himself sideways,” I mutter. “That fucking bastard.”

  I still haven’t forgiven the guy for that interview. I don’t give a rat’s ass how well-respected the guy supposedly is—or was. His network is a shit-show, I think the man’s a garbage fire, and I hope one day he has an epic on-air meltdown like Steve Carell’s character in that movie, Bruce Almighty.

  If he ever does, I’m buying it on DVD to watch on loop and show at parties.

  If I thought Carter wouldn’t kill me himself, I’d love to buy www.kevinmarkosisanasshole.com, .net, and .org.

  Yes, I absolutely would.

  No, I’m not petty at allll.

  I’m pissed off, is what I am, that the man still has a fucking job.

  Rationally, I know Carter is completely right.

  Doesn’t mean I can’t hold on to revenge fantasies. Like maybe the guy being bound and gagged on his knees while I cane his ass and then piss all over him.

  Then again, for all I know, the guy might get off on that kind of humiliation. Why else would he whore himself out to a network like Full News Broadcasting if he wasn’t a goddamned emotional masochist?

  Hell, when you can make Fox News look rational and moderate, you’re doing something wrong.

  “Come to bed, boy,” Carter playfully says.

  It’s that tone that finally draws all my attention. I let go of Carte
r’s belt loops and turn around. Susa’s looking up at me, and behind her, Carter’s smoky gaze holds mine. “Does Sir have something in mind for tonight?” I ask.

  “Sir wants to make a pet sandwich before we collapse for the night.” He smiles. “I’ll even let you choose which position you want, boy.”

  “Top.” I smile back. “I know how much you love watching me.”

  The edges of his eyes crinkle in amusement. “I do love watching you fuck.” He grabs Susa by the hair and tips her head back, so he can look her in the eyes. “I would suggest you go get ready, pet.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She sounds like she’s already dropping into subspace. He releases her and she hurries over to the bathroom.

  Carter steps in close, pressing me against the window, his hands against it and caging my body. “Unless, of course, you’d rather have me in the middle tonight.”

  “Mmm.” I grab his ass and pull him against me. Fucking Carter is a privilege I have to earn, not counting the night we frantic-fucked each other after the shooting. When it’s offered as an option, I usually don’t turn it down.

  “But then how will you watch me fuck you, Sir?”

  He nibbles on my lower lip. “Boy’s choice tonight.”

  I grab his tie and hold him in place as I kiss him. “Then you know where I want you, Sir.” Although from personal experience, I can tell you being in the middle is no hardship.

  I release him and he smiles as he starts stripping on his way to the bathroom. “Change of plans, pet,” he says as he disappears inside with her.

  I quickly strip and throw the covers off the bed. As I’m sliding my cock inside Carter’s ass a few minutes later, I’m staring at the old scars covering his back, scars that no longer look as fresh as they did that first night in the dorm, but scars that always remind me who this man is.

  He wears his soul in his flesh.

  I’ve never doubted Carter’s loyalty to us because I’ve seen it in action in ways big and small.

  I have the personal nightmares from that day in the school.

  I have the memories of all the times he held me over the years as I cried, and all the things he’s done for me.

  Loyalty.

  Devotion.

  Carter is a bastard extraordinaire, yes, but he is a loyally devoted one to the two of us. I know he’d be a great father if that option wasn’t closed to him, to us.

  Part of me aches over that, but I lock it away, because I hate what-if rhetoricals that are meaningless. They’re a waste of time, and we have precious little time to accomplish big things.

  I’m waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed when Carter and Susa emerge from the bathroom. They’re both naked. He walks over to me and I draw him into my arms, looking up at him. Susa stands behind him and wraps her arms around him. Like this, we take a quiet moment.

  I can still remember those early days when I was starved for affection and physical contact of any kind. Skin hunger.

  It’s not a problem I have anymore.

  “I want Christmas,” I say. “We warned everyone Christmas would be iffy anyway, if I won. I want Christmas alone with both of you. Just lock ourselves in and not go anywhere or answer the phone or anything.”

  He plays with my hair and nods. “Done. Christmas Eve and Christmas.”

  Relief fills me and I lay my head against his chest, listening to his heart beating there. “Thank you, Sir.”

  We climb into bed and I take a moment to enjoy watching Carter fuck Susa, getting her primed before falling still so I can get into position. It’s sexy to watch them fuck, just like I understand why Carter likes watching us fuck. We’re not machines. Some nights, despite how Carter owns us, he knows one of us might not be in the mood. He’s a bastard, not an asshole. On those nights, a show is sometimes put on for the third.

  Sometimes, that show is for Carter, especially if his pain is bad.

  And to be certain, with the campaign and stress, sometimes it’s more a matter of we’re falling into bed, whoever’s together that particular night, and doing some power cuddling without any sex being involved. Carter’s almost forty-five now, I’m thirty-seven, and Susa’s thirty-five. We’re not exactly old farts, but we’re not horny college kids any longer.

  We’re reasonably responsible adults who were just given the keys to one of the largest states in our nation.

  Oh, shit.

  I must have frozen, because Carter looks back at me. “What’s wrong, Owen?”

  “I…” I swallow. “I’m the governor…of Florida.”

  He smiles. “You’re just now realizing that?”

  Susa giggles.

  “No, I mean, seriously, I’m the fucking governor of Florida! Who the hell thought this was a good idea?”

  He tips his head back enough he can kiss me, and that starts distracting me. “There’s a motion on the floor, Senator Taylor. How about you fuck me—sorry, I mean, Governor Taylor, not Senator—and we can discuss this further after you, Representative Evans, and myself have had some orgasms?”

  Susa’s giggle lasts longer this time. “The representative at the bottom of the dogpile votes aye,” she says.

  I grab his hips and start fucking him, feeling a little sadistic satisfaction of my own when his eyes practically roll back in his head. Somehow, he starts moving, and we find a rhythm that also has Susa happily moaning below us.

  By the time we’ve collapsed in a happy heap, I’m done for the night. We clean up and curl up in bed, tonight with me in the middle.

  “I can’t believe people voted for me,” I mumble against his shoulder.

  He chuckles. “That’s because you’re hot as fuck, Governor.”

  I groan.

  Susa giggles.

  God help us all, I’m now the governor of Florida.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Now

  All of that was a really long and roundabout way of bringing us to today, here, right now, in my new office.

  A new office we are in the process of breaking in the right way, if I do say so myself.

  By “right way” I mean Carter’s way.

  The only way that matters to me, and to Susa.

  I needed you to understand the path I took over the past sixteen years to get here, to understand the man—Carter, not me.

  To understand none of this would have happened without Him. Susa helped a lot, to be sure, but she couldn’t have gotten me elected without Carter’s help, the force of nature that he is, to drive me across the finish line.

  I am thirty-seven years old, and I am now the governor of the great state of Florida.

  I still can’t believe it.

  Governor Owen Taylor.

  Fuck you, Mom.

  I haven’t spoken to her in over ten years, haven’t texted her. I’m sure eventually something will crop up about that, now that I’ve won the election. Her whining to some willing ear that her ungrateful son has abandoned her.

  I’ll let Carter take care of that, if and when it does happen.

  I was happy to have Dad, Katie, Susan, Danny, Dawn, and Paul there with me on stage on election night. They moved to Tampa eight years ago, and Dad was a volunteer for my campaigns for the state Senate and for governor. Katie and Dad know the three of us are close, but we sort of have a don’t ask, don’t tell vibe going on. Susan, Danny, Dawn, and Paul know Carter and Susa as Uncle Carter and Aunt Susa.

  I was kind of hoping seeing them with me on TV would give my mother a stroke or something, but I’m not that lucky, I guess.

  Maybe that can be our squad goal for the re-election.

  I’ll ask Carter. Something tells me he’ll approve.

  Some of Carter’s sadism, and Susa’s ruthlessness, have worn off on me over the years, I suppose. I’ve had to learn them as political survival skills.

  Right now, my first term as Florida’s governor is starting out on a sexy note.

  My chief of staff has my gorgeous lieutenant governor bent over my new desk, her skirt rucked u
p around her waist, her torn panties stuffed in the front pocket of his slacks. He’s just pinched and bitten the insides of her thighs since he can’t risk spanking her in here right now. We don’t need people hearing that, or, worse, capturing the audio on a cell phone.

  Now I’m being waved in by Carter like a hockey line change.

  He moves to the side, to make room for me. He keeps a fist in her hair to pin her to the desktop. “Arms, pet.”

  She dutifully moves them behind her back, and he uses his other hand to pin her wrists together.

  He tips his head to receive a kiss from me. “This is your reward, boy,” he softly says. “You worked your ass off and I’m so proud of you.” He drops me a sexy wink. “Take what you want and don’t worry about getting her off. I’ll take care of her later tonight. She can wait.”

  Part of me is tempted to fuck her silly, and part of me wishes I could spend hours teasing and tormenting her.

  Reality calling—there are people in the outer office, and we’re on a very tight schedule today.

  So I slowly swipe the head of my cock up and down through her folds, where she’s wet and slick and more than ready for me thanks to Carter having conditioned her body every bit as well as he’s conditioned mine, before I slowly sink inside her all the way to the root.

  I have to bite back a needy moan. I want to savor this, remember it.

  I know I’ll be getting hard every time I sit here at my desk and think about this moment, right here.

  I’m also sure Carter’s dying to fuck me over this desk, too, but that will have to wait for another time.

  Maybe tomorrow. Who knows?

  Carter leans in and whispers in my ear. “Also, until further notice, you have unrestricted permission to fuck her whenever and however you safely can.”

  My hands caress her ass before settling on her hips, and I catch sight of the tattoo on the inside of my right wrist, the matching ones on Susa and Carter’s wrists. “Thank you, Sir,” I whisper.

  “You’re very welcome. In fact, I encourage you to find or make those kinds of opportunities as frequently as possible. Don’t worry about making her come when you do. Grab her and fuck her.”