7 Degrees of Alpha (a collection of seven new BWWM, Alpha Male Romances) (18 page)

CHAPTER 12

Victor rested his head under the warm stream of the shower. He'd only had a few hours of sleep. He'd still be in the bed had it not been for Taylor's energetic ass. She'd awakened him with a mind-blowing blowjob, before announcing that she was going in the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The woman was a ball of fire that he thought he'd doused in the night. But, apparently, her flame wouldn't be easily put out.

It was 7am and they had plans to go fishing with Taylor's dad. Victor was taking them to his lake house in southern Illinois. He had bragged to James about the abundance of Bluegills. Victor knew that he was dragging. And although he had set the date and time for their excursion, he hadn't accounted for the unforeseen shooting the night before.

Victor quickly finished his shower, dressed, and made his way to the kitchen. He found Taylor standing in front of the stove with her hair bouncing wild and free down her back. She was, to him, the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, and her full hips were swaying to the reggae music that was blaring through the speakers. He wanted to bend her over the stove and beast fuck her from behind, but he just stood there and watched, enjoying the sight of her. He wanted her so badly. If she wasn't his already, it was his goal to make her his as soon as possible. His plan was to sign his name all over her pussy and solidify his position in her life.

"Who was the angry woman that was shoutin' at the top of her lungs in your living room last night?" she asked without turning around.

Here we go.

"How did you know I was behind you?" Victor asked.

"I can smell you. You smell like fine ass man."

Victor smiled, loving the compliment. "Fine ass man, huh?"

"The woman?" she repeated, not allowing him to change the subject.

Victor walked over to her, grabbed a fistful of her curly hair and gently yanked her head back, giving him access to her lips.

"Good morning, sweetness" he whispered, just before kissing her lips.

"Good morning, baby," she mumbled against his lips. "I made coffee."

"Thanks."

He swatted her ass, walked over to the cabinet, and grabbed a cup. "Her name's Kara, Kara Edwards. She's my press secretary," he explained as he poured coffee into his cup. "Do you want a cup?"

She raised her cup to show that she'd already had coffee. "What's the deal with Miss Kara Edwards, Victor?"

Clearly, Taylor wasn't accepting the vague explanation. Maybe if she got tired of being a cop, there was a job for her as a reporter.

Wait,
Victor thought.
Cops interrogate people too.

He almost laughed out loud at the banter going on in his head, until Taylor turned around and stared pointedly at him.

"We had a thing,” he finally answered.

"A thing?"

"Yeah, we were sleeping together," Victor admitted. "Recently. But we ended it."

"We? It didn't sound like shit had ended for her."

"Yeah," was all he said.

"’Sleeping together’ was that the extent of your relationship?"

"Yes, sweetness. We had that understanding."

"Maybe you had that understanding, but I guarantee you that she didn't have that understanding."

"Doesn't matter," Victor responded in a tone that was matter of fact.

Taylor carried a skillet containing an omelet to the table and slid the eggs onto Victor's plate. Victor took a seat in front of the plate and looked down at the perfect omelet.

He smiled up at Taylor. "I love it when you cook for me."

"Then I gotta cook for you more often," she said, leaning over to give him a sweet kiss.

With Victor's eyes fixed on her luscious ass, she walked across the kitchen to place the skillet in the sink. He'd never seen an ass so perfect. When Taylor turned toward him, stealing away his perfect view, he simply focused on her big braless tits. She was a vision. Suddenly, it came to him; he was going to commission an artist to paint her.

"She's going to be trouble," Taylor said, diverting his attention.

"She won't, sweetheart. Let me worry about Kara Edwards. You worry about enjoying your breakfast. Come and sit."

Taylor did as instructed. She sat in the chair next to him and forked a big chunk of eggs. But before the fork made it into her mouth, Kenyatta burst into the kitchen with a horrified look on her face.

Victor cringed.
What now?

"Sir, you have seen this?" she asked, placing a newspaper in front of him.

Victor, who was in mid-sip, choked on his coffee, and ended up spitting it on the paper.

"What the fuck?!"

Taylor leaned over to look at the paper. Victor wanted to shield her from it, but he knew that she would she see it sooner or later. She focused on the paper and gasped loudly, before covering her mouth with her hand. She was staring at the headline, which was over a picture of the two of them in them, one in the police station with his arm around her waist and the other of them entering his building hand in hand. The headline was in big bold letters that read:
GOVERNOR SPOTTED WITH MARRIED LOVER.

Taylor's dark skin turned almost paled. She looked as if she was going to faint at any moment.

CHAPTER 13

Surely, she hadn't seen what she thought she saw. It was all a nightmare, and she would wake up soon. She heard Victor and Kenyatta's muffled voices, but couldn't focus on what they were saying. She was wheezing, battling to catch her breath. When Victor placed a paper bag to her face, she realized that she was hyperventilating. She took slow deep breaths in the paper bag until her breathing returned to normal. She was on the front page of a major newspaper, as the governor's married lover no less!

"Taylor," Victor called. "Taylor, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she muttered breathlessly.

Kenyatta's tone was business-like as she asked, "Miss Montgomery, are you married?"

"No, I'm divorced. I've been divorced for six years."

"Legally?" she asked for clarification.

"Yes, legally. Surely you had me checked out when I started spending time with Victor."

Kenyatta didn't deny it. In fact, she nodded in agreement.

"Then why did you ask?" Taylor asked.

"Just wanted verbal confirmation."

Taylor snatched the paper and stared at it. The photo that was taken in the station had to have been taking by an officer, but she had no clue who took the photo outside of Victor's building. She couldn't believe that her private life had been plastered across the Sun Times. Between the shooting and the media, her life was suddenly spinning out of control.

"I'll take care of this," Victor assured, seemingly reading Taylor's mind. "I promise. Just let me handle it."

"Okay," she said in a small voice.

What else was she to say? It's not like she had an alternative. There wasn't shit that she could do. She stood on shaky legs and tossed the paper on the table.

"Look, I'm gonna go. I don't feel like fishing today. I just wanna go home."

Victor's grim expression saddened her, but she wanted to be alone, in the sanctity of her own home. She left the kitchen and headed to Victor's bedroom to get dressed. Victor hurried behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He snuggled his face in the crook of her neck. His warm breath tickled her skin, making her want to turn into his arms.

He held her tight and whispered, "Don't run, baby. I can fix this. I can make it right. Just don't run from me."

She exhaled and melted into his body. "I'm not running. I'm just going home to refuel."

"Well, I hope that your tank is full by tonight, because I'm coming over."

"Okay," she whispered.

Even though she wanted to be alone, she relented. Victor released a breath, seemingly relieved that she hadn't refused him.

As if she ever could.

After walking Taylor out, Victor went into the kitchen. Kenyatta was sitting at the table drinking Taylor's coffee. He grabbed the paper from the table and looked at the name under the article. It was that bastard, Brent Trainer.

"Get Kara on the phone. Tell her to get over here now. No, wait; tell her to meet me at the Thompson Center office. And get me someone that can spin this shit."

"Yes, sir."

Kenyatta finished what was left of Taylor's coffee and left the kitchen.

Taylor exited the elevator behind Gregor and followed him through the lobby. Since it was Saturday morning, the lobby wasn't as busy as it would've been on a weekday. Taylor couldn't be more grateful. She wasn't ready to face a bunch of people that could very well be judging her based on a headline that wasn’t true.

A headline on the front page!

Taylor still couldn't believe that her picture was on the front page of the newspaper, and a very clear picture at that. There was no way that she'd be able to use Eddie Murphy's famous phrase, "It wasn't me". How was she going to explain that fucking article to her parents?

And, oh, God... work
.

How on earth was she gonna show her face?

Taylor took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She needed to calm down. She hoped it wouldn't be as bad as she thought. She hoped that maybe she was overreacting.

It was just one paper. Once the story dies, they will move on to something else. After all, we’re in Chicago. There’s always news. Hell, folks are getting whacked in the hood every day.

Who was she kidding? There had been an actual police shooting. A man had died. That shit didn't even make the paper, and she had!

"Taylor, listen," Gregor said, halting her steps. "Collier is waiting out front. When we get out there, I want you to stay close to me, look straight ahead, and do not comment."

Taylor’s heart slammed against her chest. She blinked up at Gregor in shock.

"Wait. W-what do you... What are you talking about?"

"The press."

Taylor's breath hitched. "There's press out there?"

Gregor gave Taylor a look that indicated just how stupid he thought her question was. And thus, he didn't even bother to answer. He wrapped a protective arm around her and led her out of the front door. Getting through the circus that was waiting for her was quite the feat. And judging by the amount of camera flashes and microphones shoved in her face, it was safe to say that the press wouldn't be moving on any time soon.

Collier held the door open, donning a sympathetic expression. Gregor ushered Taylor into the back seat and slammed the door shut, but that didn't stop the cameras from flashing outside of the car. They all wanted a good shot of the governor's "married lover". Collier walked around to the driver’s seat, and Gregor slid in next her.

"You did good. Now I need you to do the exact same thing when we get to your house."

"My house? Fuck!” Taylor shrieked. “Of course they're at my house!" Taylor covered her face and slouched down in her seat.

"Miss Montgomery, please believe that the governor will handle the situation. He knows how to deal with the media," Gregor assured.

"But I don’t!" Taylor snapped.

Taylor felt immediate remorse. Gregor was only trying to reassure her. He didn't deserve for her to be so short with him. "I'm sorry, Gregor. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. I understand, Miss Montgomery. Really, I do."

"Thanks for getting me out of there."

"You're welcome, but we’re not done yet. I need the keys to your house."

Taylor nodded and fished through her purse. She handed over her keys to Gregor, who handed them over to Collier.

"Here's the plan; we're going to pull into your driveway. Collier will open your front door while we wait in the car. Once the door is open, you do it just like you did it at the tower. Okay?"

"Okay," Taylor agreed.

But everything wasn't okay, and Taylor knew it.

CHAPTER 14

Victor didn't think that he could become more inflamed than he already was. But when Kara sashayed into his office wearing a tasteless, skin-tight dress, with a smug satisfied look on her face, he was even more pissed. Had she been a man, he would've beat that smug look off of her face. Victor realized that he should have let her go after her fake suicide attempt. But foolishly, he thought that she would behave like an adult and eventually get over their brief fling. He was clearly wrong.

She reached for the back of the chair that sat in front of his desk.

"Don't sit," he said abruptly.

"What is it, Victor?" she asked in a bored tone.

Victor tossed the newspaper across his desk. "What the fuck is this?"

She shot a nonchalant glance at the paper and smiled. She actually fucking smiled. "Well, Governor Creed, I would say that that's a very nice picture of you and your new whore."

Victor leaned back in his chair and studied his press secretary. He wanted to leap from his seat and toss her petty ass out of the window. Victor was pissed, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of drawing any kind of emotion out of him.

"You're amused?" Victor chuckled. "Do you want me so bad that you'd allow something like this to get passed you? I mean, really, Kara? Do you feel jilted or rejected enough to throw away a career that you fucked so hard to get?"

She gasped at Victor's harsh words, but he wasn't done.

"Kara, I didn't get this far by being stupid. Do you think for one goddamned minute that I didn't know that you leaked that fucking story?"

"How dare you!"

"Please save the feigned outrage. You and I both know that you have a key to the front door of the Sun Times building. The only way that story could've gotten past you, is if you planted it yourself."

"I didn't leak a damn thing!" she shouted. "You're not gonna put this shit on me."

"Why did you show up at my apartment last night, Kara? You were demanding to know who was inside; why? And, just how did you know that I had a woman inside?"

"I-I..." she stuttered.

"I'll wait," Victor said, rubbing his chin.

Before she could fabricate an answer, Kenyatta's voice interrupted via intercom. "Governor Creed, Renee Griffin has arrived."

All the color drained for Kara's face at the mention of her biggest rival.

"You keep thinking of an answer," he said to Kara as he stood to his feet.

Renee entered Victor's office with a smile on her face; a smile that immediately disappeared when she saw Kara.

"Governor Creed, it's good to see you," she said to Victor, extending her hand.

Victor took her smaller hand in his and smiled. "Renee, thank you for coming."

"What can I do for you?" she asked, totally ignoring Kara's presence.

Victor retrieved the newspaper from his desk and handed it to her. "Can you fix this?"

"Yes, sir," she responded without even looking at the article. She'd obviously read it already.

"Hold on! What is this?!" Kara screeched.

"
This
..." Victor said, waving between Renee and himself."...is you're fired."

"Fired?!"

"Fired," he confirmed. "Get the fuck out of my office."

"Victor, I swear to God, I will sue the pants off of you!" she screamed. "I'll tell the world that you fired me after you were done using me up. I'll let everyone know how you fucked me every chance you got, and then threw me away!"

"I'll deny ever having a sexual relationship with you and paint you as the deranged, jealous, stalker that you really are," he responded with a calm that pissed her off even more.

"You're a liar!"

"No, I'm a politician," Victor chuckled. "Get the fuck out."

Kara stormed out of his office, slamming the door hard enough that it made the room shake.

Victor looked, apologetically, at Renee.

"Look, Governor Creed, if you're driving the women that crazy, please don't expect me to sleep with you," she quipped.

He laughed. "Fair enough.”