VICTOR
“It’s only a few points. You still have a slight lead,” Nate Williams, his campaign pollster justified. “This fucking investigation is a menace. But, to be honest, it’s nowhere near a nail in the coffin.”
“Governor, your constituents love you,” Mark Vega, Victor’s chief media strategist added. “I truly believe they couldn’t give less than two shits where your campaign funds come from. Keeping it real, because of Taylor, the black vote is yours. You’re a millennial favorite. You are the semi-liberal Republican that this presidency created. This administration has gone beyond right wing to all-out racist. Your party is still behind you.”
“And…” Carlotta McGovern, his chief media advisor, interjected. “You’re hot. No offense, Governor, but you’re freakin’ hot. You’re locking votes based on that. They could find the Lindbergh baby in your trunk, and women would still vote for you.”
Victor chuckled. Carlotta was amusing. She had a funny way of putting things. She was extremely likable, and had an awesome sense of humor. If they were out, having a beer, he’d definitely enjoy hanging out with her. However, Victor was facing an investigation into his campaign funds. Though he was sure that he was clean, the perception of corruption could cost him the election.
He was just about to tell her that when his office door was opened. He’d given Kena strict instructions that he wasn’t to be disturbed while he was consulting with his campaign staff. So, whatever it was that caused her to defy his request had to have been important.
To Victor’s surprise, it wasn’t Kena that entered his office. It was Taylor. He had been leaning, half sitting on his desk but stood as soon as she stepped inside.
“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”
He was in utter shock to see her in his office. She hadn’t left the apartment on her own since the shooting. Not to mention, not one person from her security detail had called to inform him that she was out and about. She must’ve forced them into silence. Taylor could be a bit of a bully with the security personnel.
“Everything’s fine, Governor. May I have a minute?”
Her words were formal, but her demeanor seemed relaxed. Even with a small crowd in the room, her beauty dominated the space. She’d pinned her naturally curly hair up in the back, and left the curls in front to fall in her face. Uncharacteristically for Taylor, she was wearing a Burberry raincoat, makeup, and tall high-heels—a huge contrast to the SIU t-shirt and shorts she’d been wearing around the house.
She smiled and stepped further inside, leaving the door open. “I need the room,” she announced sternly as she stared him right in the eye.
Without one single word of protest, the team of campaigners hurried out of the office. She closed the door behind the last person and turned to him.
“What’s up, babe?”
She sauntered closer to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Victor was more than curious as to what had finally gotten Taylor out of the house, and why she was looking so damn good.
“I just came to bring you lunch. Even the Governor has to eat, right?” Her voice was filled with seduction.
Victor eyed Taylor from head to toe. All she had was a tiny purse which couldn’t have possibly held any sort of lunch inside.
He returned to his half-seated position at the front of his desk and crossed his arms. “What’s for lunch, sweetheart?” he asked with a raised brow.
When she reached for the very first button on her raincoat, Victor’s cock stirred. By the time she reached the last button, he was rock-hard. And when she opened the coat, revealing a lace, cream-colored bra and panty set that flattered her smooth, dark skin, he nearly came in his boxers. He’d been missing her beautiful body so bad, he thought he would explode.
“Lunch is served,” she declared seductively.
