The Next Mrs Russo

“Effective leadership is… effective,” Warren repeats, looking at me like he’s not sure if I’m well.

Well. It’s official. When I die I’m going to spend eternity living right here in this room as a ghost, replaying this over and over. Haunting future mansion occupants and trying, in vain, to warn them off of flirting with governors who are impenetrable to flirtation.

I force an awkward laugh and say, “You always tell it like it is.”

He swivels in his chair a little to look at me, and I notice his legs are slightly spread apart, and if it weren’t so dim in this freaking office, I’d be able to confirm that big dick energy right here, right now.

“Why wouldn’t I tell it like it is?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” I shrug, forcing myself to look away. “A lot of people like to spin the truth in order to tell people what they want to hear.”

“People want to hear the truth.”

“Most people hate telling the truth though.”

He tilts his head, as if this interests him. “What about you?”

I must be sweating now. If I start telling the truth, we’re in trouble.

“What about me?” I evade. I can do this. I’ve watched enough political press conferences to understand evasion. I’ll just talk myself into a circle and then scoot right out of this room.

“Do you like telling the truth?” he repeats, clearly not getting the evasion memo.

“Most of the time.” I shrug, and lean in just a little. I can’t help it. He’s a magnet. It’s a miracle I didn’t sit on his lap instead of the desk.

“And you thought my press conference was sexy?” He responds like I must be joking, an amused expression on his face as if he’s caught me red-handed, exaggerating the truth. Like the guy has no idea he’s the Governor I’d Like to F—

Fuck it.

How many chances does a girl get to kiss her crush? Not many, if any. This is a prime kiss opportunity. A kissortunity. Also, he smells good. And he’s right here. If I just leaned forward we’d be kissing and I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life wondering what it would be like to kiss him. And he’s clearly not going to take the lead.

So I do it. I lean in, my fingers gripping the edge of his desk so I don’t topple into his lap, much as I might enjoy that, my head tilted just a fraction to the right, and press my lips against his. He doesn’t move, save for the small intake of breath the moment before my lips touched his, the moment it was clear I was about to do what I’m doing. He’s perfectly still. And his lips are perfect.

And.

That’s it.

“Huh,” I say, leaning back, a bit disappointed to be honest.

“What was that?” He’s staring at me, a bit of confusion clouding his expression.

“It was a kiss. But it wasn’t how I imagined it.”

“You imagined kissing me?” Warren looks like he’s a few steps behind on this entire exchange. He also looks mildly offended by my review of said kiss. “You surprised me,” he adds, his tongue sweeping his lower lip.

“I’m a surprising girl, it’s true,” I agree, but I’m looking anywhere but at him. Good Lord, did I really just kiss him? I did. And it wasn’t even worth it. It was kinda weird. Obviously awkward. And now I have to walk-of-shame out of the governor’s office. To the guest bedroom. Though it was just a kiss, so my exit will be closer to a slither of mortification than a full walk. So, at least there’s that.

“You’re too young.”

“For kissing?” My eyes fly back to his. “I’m twenty-seven,” I clarify. Then I make it weird by adding, “Gov.” Why am I like this? Seriously, why? And why did I push my luck and kiss him?

Stupid, stupid kissortunity. I’m gonna take my cat and go home.

“You’re entirely inappropriate for me.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I murmur in agreement, already starting the slide off his desk, trying to recall where I last saw Gary.

“We’re hardly compatible.”

“Right,” I agree because ‘inappropriate’ and ‘incompatible’ are words I’m very familiar with. He should be adding It’s not me, it’s you, any second now. I’m on my feet now, eyeing the door.

“Wait.” He stands, effectively trapping me between him and the desk a moment before I can escape. “You surprised me,” he repeats.

“So you said,” I quip.

“Caught me off guard,” he adds, as if the meaning of ‘surprised’ is unclear. Our eyes catch and a flicker of uncertainty or apprehension crosses his face before he mutters, “Fuck it,” and then he’s cupping my jaw with his hand and lowering his lips to mine.

And.

And…

This kiss is exactly how I imagined it.

It’s exactly the right balance of rough and soft. He’s pressing against me, holding me like I’m his anchor to the entire world, but his mouth is hungry and driven by lust. He widens my legs, one hand nudging my knees wide so he can step between them and kiss me like his life depends on it.