Lieutenant
Page 1
Table of Contents
Description
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also by the Author
Author's Note
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Preview: Chief (Governor Trilogy 3)
Preview: Dignity (Determination Trilogy 1)
Preview: Bleacke's Geek (Bleacke Shifters 1)
About the Author
Meet the Lieutenant…
I never come in second—that’s just how my daddy raised me.
Except now, I find myself willingly choosing exactly that—being second. Publicly, I might seem to serve at the governor’s pleasure, but that’s nothing close to the truth.
He serves me at mine. Especially the pleasure part.
We both serve my husband, Carter. Or, as Owen dubbed him long ago, the bastard extraordinaire.
I never knew what I was really getting into when I met Owen and Carter. Maybe it’s better I didn’t. Maybe I would’ve run away if I had.
Boy, how I love him. Both of them. Somehow, they make being second okay. And in eight years?
It’ll be my turn.
I am Susannah Evans, lieutenant governor of the great state of Florida.
Lieutenant
Governor Trilogy
Book 2
Lesli Richardson
http://www.LesliRichardson.com
Lieutenant
Governor Trilogy Book 2
Copyright © 2018 by Lesli Richardson
First E-book Publication: September, 2018
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This work may not be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means currently available or available in the future, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, for free or for sale, without express written permission from the publisher and author.
Distributing copies of this e-book to others is a violation of international copyright law and infringes the rights of the legal copyright holder. This e-book may not be shared, copied, sold, given away, offered as a contest prize, or otherwise distributed to anyone other than the original purchaser. Distributing this e-book as part of any collection, or with any type of resale permission, is also strictly forbidden and a violation of copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This is my livelihood. PLEASE do NOT share, upload, or otherwise distribute this book. When people buy my books, it pays my bills. Please don’t steal from me. If you want me to keep bringing you more stories, I need to be able to pay my bills, so I ask that you please legally purchase my books. If you want to give this file to someone else, please purchase them a copy from a legal retailer. The links are on my website. Thank you.
www.LesliRichardson.com
Also by the Author
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Writing as Lesli Richardson:
The Bleacke Shifter Series
Bleacke’s Geek
Geek Chic
A Bleacke Wind
Bleacke Spirit
A Bleacke Christmas (Coming May, 2019)
The Great Turning Series
The Great Turning
The Great Turning: Into the Turn
The Great Turning: Future Ages
Governor Trilogy
Governor
Lieutenant
Chief
Determination Trilogy
Dignity
Diligence
Desire
Devastation Trilogy (Coming April, 2019)
Dirge
Solace
Release
Of Boardwalks and Bison
Cross Country Chaos
Poly (Coming February, 2019)
Jailmates (Coming April, 2019)
Lesli Richardson is better known by her more prolific Tymber Dalton pen name. Check out her website for more info on all her titles under both her pen names, including full book and series listings, trivia, character information, and more.
http://www.tymberdalton.com
Honest reviews are greatly appreciated and can help boost a book’s rankings on retail sites. Thank you!
Author's Note
Florida politics are messy, nasty, sexy, brutal, funny, insane, impossibly complex, and a lot of fun to write about. (Mostly because they’re messy, nasty, sexy, brutal, funny, insane, and impossibly complex.)
Since the focus of this trilogy isn’t the politics so much as it is the people, I’ve taken certain liberties and simplified a few things here and there.
The kinky shit, however, is absolutely realistic.
This is book 2 in the Governor Trilogy. Some events referenced in this book take place in book 1, Governor. Therefore, it is recommended that the books be read in order.
Dedication
For Hubby, for my bestie, Trish; for my Tymber’s Trybe group, and for Sir—He knows why.
Chapter One
Susa
Now
I never knew what I was getting into when I first met Owen and Carter.
Maybe it’s better I didn’t know.
Maybe I would’ve run away if I had.
But now I’ve been sworn in as the lieutenant governor of the great state of Florida, working with Governor Owen Taylor.
Publicly, it might seem that I serve at the governor’s pleasure, but that’s nothing close to the truth.
He serves me at mine. Especially the pleasure part.
We both serve my husband, Carter Wilson. My Master and Owner.
Also Owen’s best friend and chief of staff.
And, as Owen dubbed him long ago, a bastard extraordinaire.
Boy, how I love him. Both of them.
Not many women are lucky enough to have two men who love them as much as Owen and Carter love me.
I grew up in a political family. My father likes to “joke” that me changing my party affiliation from GOP to Independent contributed to the massive heart attack that forced him out of running for higher public offices and into semi-retirement.
Except, here’s the thing—I never wanted to be known as Benchley Evans’ little girl. I always wanted to make my own name.
If anyone’s to blame it’s my father, because he’s the one who taught me how to be ruthless.
Brutal.
Never come in second.
There’s only one winner.
Joke’s on him. We came in first, all right. By a damned landslide.
Without running under the banner of his precious GOP. And without the help of being a Democrat, either.
Both parties have good points, but both parties have increasingly fatal flaws that mean neither is doing their constituents any favor
s in this state. Tribal politics run rampant. No one’s interested in actually governing, only scoring poll results and sound bites. Florida’s a major swing state, and party candidates are frequently too busy tonguing the taints of national-level pols, trying to curry favor with them to help their own careers, instead of focusing on what’s important to the people of our state.
I wasn’t Florida’s first female lieutenant governor, so that wasn’t a glass ceiling I could shatter. But I damn sure plan on being Florida’s next governor, provided Owen is re-elected.
There’s no reason to think he won’t. Carter won’t let him lose.
If there’s someone who wants to win even more than my father and I do, it’s Carter. Which is one of the reasons why Daddy hates Carter so much.
If only Daddy knew what else Carter does, he’d really hate him. Him and Owen both.
But I love them, and no way in hell will I give them up.
Not for Daddy, and not for anyone else, either.
* * * *
Right now, I’m leaving Owen’s office and returning to my own before I finish for the day. At my husband’s earlier summons, I’d left my chief of staff, Draymond, while we were going over tomorrow’s schedule.
As I stand waiting for the elevator, I feel a draft up my skirt and Owen’s cum threatening to slide down the insides of my thighs where Carter had him fuck me over Owen’s new desk just minutes earlier.
That’s one way to break in an office.
Except I screwed up.
Well, not screwed up, really.
I was counting on Carter being so damned busy today, between the swearing in ceremony and it being Owen’s first day as governor, that Carter wouldn’t think to do a panty check.
I should have known better. Of course he would figure out a way for the three of us to privately celebrate the inauguration.
Carter ripped them off me, and now they’re in his pocket.
Which is why I have to squeeze my thighs together and pray the elevator hurries the hell up and gets here.
Of course, squeezing my thighs together reminds me that I’m going to have bite marks and bruises all inside my thighs from where Carter pinched and bit me only minutes earlier, because there were too many people in the outer office for him to spank me.
Worse, the bastard extraordinaire didn’t get me off.
Ohhh, I’m sure I’ll get a proper punishment later tonight at home, after the inauguration ball, but…
Yeah.
I know I’m smiling right now over that thought. Because it’s not like I’m dreading it or anything.
Just like I’m not dreading the fact that Carter gave Owen carte blanche permission to bend me over and fuck me anytime we can safely do so without risk of discovery.
* * * *
I make it back to my office and hold up a finger to stall Draymond as I duck into my personal bathroom. I take a quick moment to clean up—breathing a massive sigh of relief that I haven’t left a damp spot on the back of my skirt—and then return to hear what my COS was saying.
I really like the guy, Draymond Garcia. He’s a talented attorney who worked on several of Owen’s campaigns for us, and a friend of Carter’s. Carter took care of me, the way he always has, and hired Dray to be my chief of staff shortly after we won the election.
Carter is the power behind the power, and don’t think I don’t know that.
Daddy always says that time is never your friend, and it’s never on your side. But my Nana always told me to take time to make time, or else I’d regret it.
Those two contradictory pieces of advice are both correct.
Dray helps me in both ways—keeping track of my time for me and helping me make time where I need to. He is as hungry for power as Carter and I are. Another good reason he’s here—he wants to be here for the long-haul. Dray is focused on spending the next sixteen years in Tallahassee with us.
With me.
The only full-time woman in his life, outside his family and the occasional friend.
No, seriously. He’s gay. Hot as hell, and his long-term live-in boyfriend, Gregory, is just as gorgeous.
Draymond’s fashion sense is on fleek, too. Another reason Carter wanted him working for me—to make sure if he isn’t around to personally approve how I look, he knows Dray will step in and fix me up. He’s a handsome mixed Latinx with impeccable style, getting his six-five height and flawless dark brown skin from his tall father, and his gorgeous green eyes from his Puerto Rican mother.
If I had to worry about Carter and Owen’s fidelity, maybe I’d be a little jealous of Dray and the time he gets to spend with my husbands.
But more importantly, Carter trusts Dray with our secrets. He’ll be not only my body man but also my point man in terms of making sure I look like I’m where I’m supposed to be, even if I’m sneaking away for a few private moments with Owen.
One of the three men Carter saved from the car bomb that fateful day in the desert by throwing his body over theirs was Dray’s older brother, Samuel. That means we literally don’t have to worry about his loyalties. If Carter called Dray and told him he had a body he needed help hiding, Dray wouldn’t waste time asking stupid questions.
He’d show up with shovels. Or maybe even a wood chipper.
And I can guarantee you he’d look good doing it, too.
Carter helps pair Dray with discreet beards for family functions involving his grandparents. His parents and brother know about him being gay, but they all pretend around both sets of grandparents, just to keep the peace.
Dray’s boyfriend goes, too. They’ve told the grandparents Gregory’s an orphan—which is technically true, since his asshole family disowned him when he came out—and that he’s Dray’s roommate—again, technically true—so they welcome him as another grandchild and are none the wiser.
Once both sets of Dray’s grandparents have passed, the two of them plan to get married.
Dray finishes going over this week’s schedule with me. I don’t miss the playful smirk he’s wearing.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, ma’am.” Unlike when Owen calls me that, the m is lower-case.
“Just say it.”
He shrugs. “Your husband called me right before you returned. He told me that, in the future, I’m to snitch on you if I see you wearing panties, unless he’s specifically told me ahead of time he’s cleared it.”
I glare. “Snitches get stitches.”
He grins. “I’m more afraid of him than I am you, ma’am.”
I prop my elbows on my desk, my head cradled in my hands. “Dammit.”
He snorts. “Sorry, ma’am, but he outranks you.”
“I’m the lieutenant governor.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you know damn well I’m running for governor in eight years.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I lift my head. “And as my chief of staff, you’ll still squeal on me even then, won’t you?”
He grins and shrugs. “Sorry, ma’am. Sarge outranks you.”
I slump back in my chair. “You’re not sorry one damn bit. I think you’re a sadist, too.”
“You might not be wrong, ma’am. Now, let’s firm up Monday’s schedule, please?”
* * * *
When I’m ready to leave and head to our townhouse here in Tallahassee, the FHP officer assigned as one of my permanent security detail is sitting at his desk in my outer office, along with my administrative assistant, Andrea. He goes ahead to get the car.
I personally don’t want a security detail, but Carter—and Owen—have insisted. Yes, it’s customary for the lieutenant governor to have security, but I was hoping to avoid it. They worry with Carter being Owen’s COS, and with me being Senator Benchley Evans’ daughter, that that it might paint a larger target on me.
And, as Carter informed me, if he wasn’t Owen’s COS, he would be my personal security detail.
Our townhouse isn’t far from the Florida Governor’s Mans
ion, not even two blocks, but it might as well be miles away for me. I won’t be able to sneak back and forth very easily. It’s a quick walk for Carter, however, which is one of the reasons he selected it.
The other reason is that it’s a center unit. Owen owns the one to the left of ours, and Daddy owns the one on the right. Daddy’s sits mostly vacant, unless he needs to travel to Tallahassee for meetings or events. They used to have a house here, but sold it and bought the townhouse after Daddy’s heart attack. Once his term in the Florida Senate ended, they started living in their house in Brandon again full-time. Now, he and Momma are talking about buying another house here, since I’ll be here most of the time. If they do that, at least it means I won’t have to worry about them being right next door anymore.
Meaning we’ll have nearly guaranteed privacy.
We first invested in the townhouses when Owen was elected to the Florida Senate, which turned out to be a doubly good choice once I was elected to the Florida House of Representatives not long after. Just like with our two homes in Brandon, just outside Tampa, we’re usually using only one. Owen’s townhouse is for show. There is, in fact, a hidden door that connects our unit to Owen’s.
We pass the Florida Governor’s Mansion as the trooper drives me through the chilly January afternoon, and I stare at the place as we ride by. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve driven past that mansion in my life, or how many times I’ve been inside it as Representative or Senator Benchley Evans’ daughter.
I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to live there. Not as the wife or daughter of the governor, either.
Eight years.
Eight years, and I’ll officially be living there.