Ambition 2: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Driven) (4 page)

"How'd it go?" I asked, leaving my arm around her shoulder and looking down at Patrick, amused. "You first, Sophie."

"Not bad. he did okay with what we could do. He's stiff as a board though, I'm going to have to work on that."

I gave Sophie a wink and stood over Patrick, straddling his chest. I knew what I was doing, giving him a very nice look up my skirt. Looking down and crossing my arms over my chest, I arched my eyebrow. "Is that so? And any complaints about Sophie, Patrick?"

"None at all," Patrick said, "although if you insist on standing there, she's going to be right about me being stiff as a board."

Sophie groaned melodramatically and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go find my husband. You two, no leaving bodily fluids on the mats, okay?"

I bit back a jibe, considering I'd caught her and Mark doing just that once, but nodded. "We'll behave."

Once Sophie was gone, I sank down to my knees, straddling Patrick's waist. Leaning down, I kissed him softly, our lips molding together electrically. "I missed you today," I said as we parted. "I thought you were so busy with work you didn't have time to call me."

"You were on my mind all day," he replied, his hands resting on my skirt. "But I knew I was coming over here tonight, and knew I could see you. I didn't expect you'd be so late though. Anything wrong?"

"Just some work on the community center project," I said, "but now everything’s better."

"Problem solved?"

I laughed and ran my hands over his sweaty t-shirt, feeling his muscles. "Not really. But having you here, it's much, much better."

"Tabby," Patrick moaned, his cock hardening in his workout shorts. "You're teasing me. You promised Sophie we’d behave in here.”

"No," I said, sliding down his legs and freeing his cock from his shorts. I wrapped my fingers around the thick shaft, still surprised I'd been able to fit him inside me so wonderfully the last time. I couldn't even close my fist around him, and it's not like I have tiny hands. "I promised her I wouldn't get any bodily fluids on the mats,” I said, grinning.

Patrick sat up on his elbows to watch as I licked his cock from the base all the way to the tip, his moan of appreciation growing as I reached the tip and circled around his head. It’d been a while since I'd done this, but it wasn’t my first time either. Licking slowly, I worked my way up and down, relishing the clean sweat taste of his skin. He was warm, even warmer than normal after his workout, but not funky at all. Instead, he tasted sexy, masculine, and my panties started to get wet. There'd be time for that later. After all, I wasn't going to break a promise.

Going back down, I found Patrick's balls, heavy and full. Sucking one into my mouth, I swirled it around, sucking lightly on the heavy orb before switching and bathing him with my mouth and tongue. Patrick reached down and brushed my hair out of my face, which probably wasn't for the ease for me but rather than for his own visual benefit, but I appreciated it.

"Tabby...." he said softly, his voice shaky. "You're so beautiful."

I smiled at him and pulled my mouth away to look him in the eye for a second, then I swallowed his cock, slowly letting him inside my mouth until he brushed against the back of my mouth. I wasn't ready at the time to try and deep throat him, so I pulled back, letting him feel my tongue swirling around him, flickering over his tip until I was just sucking on the head. Licking one more time, I looked him in the eye again. "How long since you came?"

"When we were together," he whispered, blushing. "I was kind of holding out until we were together again when I got shot."

"Poor baby," I mocked, my hand pumping his spit slick shaft. “Well right now is about you. Later tonight you can return the favor."

Before he could answer I swallowed him again, bobbing my head up and down with intense purpose. I wanted his essence, I needed it. That day, not hearing his voice after having him nearby for so long, it was horrible. It wasn't even the stress or the work, which at least acted like a distraction. It was that I wanted Patrick nearby. I wanted to hear his hum as he thought, and feel the weight of his eyes on me as we watched movies or looked out at the sunset from the front steps of Mount Zion. I was happy that he was now back in public, if only that we could actually go out again. I’m not one to be cooped up all the time.

It was these thoughts on my mind as I sucked and pleasured him, pouring all of myself into having him feel so good he couldn't help himself. His hand rested in my hair, and I knew he wanted to push me, to take control, but restrained himself, trusting me and letting me guide him this time. When his fingers tensed, I knew he was close, but still he didn't push or grab at me. I buried myself as deeply as I could, and at the same time I massaged his balls, rubbing them in the way I knew would drive him even higher.

"Tabby....." he warned me, and I pulled back a little. Vacuuming my lips around the head of his cock, his first squirt coated my tongue, warm and sweet and salty and delicious. I relished his taste for a moment before spitting it into his gym towel.

I looked at Patrick, who was struggling to say something, his mouth gaping and closing like a fish. He looked pained, and I grew worried. "What is it?"

"I... I love you," he said.

I heard a crash from the kitchen, which echoed the crash in my stomach.

I
didn't mean
to say it, not yet anyway, but the words were honest. I knew what had been done to Tabby, and I knew that the longer we could go without saying the words, the better it was for both of us. Besides, there was no need to say the words I felt, the feelings inside were what counted. And my feelings were definitely true. Still, I didn't need to say them. In fact, saying them was probably more hurtful than helpful.

But there I was, covered in sweat with my cock in her hand, dropping a goddamn bomb on things, sounding like some dumbass high school nerd who’d just gotten laid for the first time.

Tabby blinked a few times and let go of my cock, getting to her feet and leaving the gym if not at a run, then certainly at a fast walk. I sat there for a moment before tucking myself back into my shorts and sighing, getting to my feet. I was just gathering my things when Mark came in the room.

"What did you say to her?"

I turned to look at Mark, who was standing, his fists clenched, a look on his face like he wanted to tear my head off. I could understand, personally. "What did she say?"

"Neither of them are saying anything, actually. I heard Sophie drop something in the kitchen and I come in to find our casserole dish in about a hundred and fifty pieces on the floor, Sophie staring at the baby monitor with shock on her face. Tabby comes in before I can even ask her what the hell is up, and she looks like someone just kicked her in the crotch. The two of them retreated to Tabby's bedroom, not letting me in, and I'm still not getting any answers. Now what the hell happened?"

"I... I said I love her," I whispered, looking down. “It just came out. I knew right when the words came out it was a mistake.”

"You said you loved her," Mark repeated. "You dumb sonofabitch."

I sighed and nodded, changing my t-shirt quickly and grabbing the warmup pants I'd worn to Mount Zion. "I know. If it's any consolation, it's the truth."

Mark shook his head. He surprised me then by starting to chuckle, then putting his head back and laughing, trying to keep his voice down. "I swear I have nothing but mentally irregular people in my life. Drama, man."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean that Sophie and I pretty much said we loved each other over some pretty drastic, not exactly romantic circumstances too. If you hang around long enough, I may even tell you the story. I guess what I'm going to say now is not exactly what I should be, but Tabby's last man she was with.... it didn't work out well."

"I know," I replied. "She said as much, and I'd heard some stories when I was working the bar. Lot of Confederation guys would come down around there, and you know how stories get passed around. In hindsight I realize she wasn’t ready for that.”

I shook my head “And now I’m afraid that I’ve screwed things up with Tabby. I can’t lose her."

Mark nodded, interlacing his fingers in front of him. "All right," he finally said after a moment, "get out of here, I'll talk with Tabby and Sophie. For the record, I don't think you screwed everything up, but I'm not a psychic. Go get some rest at home, and maybe Tabby will give you a call tomorrow. I don't know. She was probably just shocked that’s all.”

I nodded and grabbed my bag. "Snowman..."

"Mark, please."

"All right, Mark. Thanks. I know I shouldn't be asking you to intervene for me, but thanks."

Mark nodded and I headed out the back door of Mount Zion, which ironically was the front door of the sanctuary. They'd changed things around a lot. Mark walked with me, unlocking the door and letting me out that way. As I walked through, I felt his hand clamp on my wrist, iron hard and unforgiving. "Patrick."

"Yeah?"

"This is a warning from me. I know what you did wasn’t intentional, and you meant well, but if you intentionally fuck around on Tabby, you won't make me happy. Don't make me unhappy with you, okay? She can’t take much more.”

I saw in his eyes the ruthless man he could be, and I nodded. I knew the story of Scott Pressman, even if Mark didn't know that I knew.

Scott deserved everything he’d gotten, but he got off lucky.

T
he next morning
, Gwen brought me a coffee as I sat at my desk. I still wasn't wearing suit coats in the office most of the time, but I was at least wearing shoes that needed to be polished and not cleaned with an old toothbrush like I did with high tops.

"You look distracted boss," she said. Gwen had called me boss from the moment I hired her, a term that I took as a positive. At her interview, I was 'Councilman McCaffery.' Now I was 'boss.' It was a definite improvement. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, just personal life," I told Gwen. "What's the schedule look like for the rest of the day?"

"You've got a meeting with the Mayor at one o'clock, and then a local Boy Scout troop is coming by at four. They've got a bunch of kids who want to interview you, it's part of their promotion requirements. Oh, and don't forget that tomorrow you've got the city engineers coming by. They're bringing you the updates on their building inspections in your district."

"That sounds like fun," I muttered under my breath. "Thanks, Gwen. By the way, any calls from Bishop Traylor or Ms. Berkowitz?"

"Not today boss. Are we expecting a call from them?” Gwen's little smile told me that she was familiar with my feelings towards those two particular scoundrels. She was much bubblier than the few times I met Tabby's assistant Vanessa, but so far had been a great help. I could actually see getting on top of things around the office. "Also, before I go, any idea on if or when you want to hire another assistant? You've got the space in your budget."

"Not yet. If you want to look at what would be best, I'll be happy to talk about it later. Maybe in between the Mayor and the Boy Scouts you can give me some ideas. You've got some political experience."

It was the biggest reason I'd hired Gwen. While not an active campaigner, she had worked as an admin assistant for a PAC in college, according to her resume. She was also very insightful so far in the time she'd been working for me, and had handled things well the time I was out after being shot.

"Of course boss."

Gwen left, and I felt my mood dampen again. I had left my phone near me all day, hoping that Tabby would call or text me. Instead, my phone sat silent, and with every passing minute, I knew I was getting more and more in a funk.

Telling myself I was acting like an idiot didn't help. I'd been doing that ever since the words 'I love you' came out of my mouth. I knew that Tabby was busy, perhaps even busier than I was. In our city, being a councilman wasn't as difficult a job as you’d think. The Mayor and Deputy Mayor held most of the power, and the various city departments were more or less self contained. The Police and Fire Commissioners were elected positions, so while I and the rest of the Council could drag them into a meeting and yell at them, there really wasn't a lot we could do. Most of our work was to look over different department reports from our districts, voice our opinions on matters to the Mayor or Deputy Mayor, and then finagle budget ideas. We did have that much power, over about half of the total city budget, the rest locked up through various other means.

All in all, I had a rather cushy job, with most of it being answering gripes and complaints from citizens in The Playground and Filmore Heights. It was one of my secret weapons against the gangs, in that many times I got lots of information from the very people they lived among because I was seen as a powerless politician rather than the police.

I was just about to run across the street from City Hall to grab a quick lunch when my phone rang. I looked at the number, and saw it was from Mount Zion. "Tabby?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's just me," Sophie answered. "No call from her so far?"

"Not yet," I replied. "Although I'm feeling a bit more confident. You called me at least, and you two are closer than twins."

"Mark came in and talked to us. I’ll be honest, I was ready to give you a good sock in the face last night," Sophie said. There was still a hint of anger in her voice, but behind it I heard a lot of forgiveness too. "All things considered, I've forgiven my husband for more. Don't worry about Tabby, she just needs to get her mind calmed down, you shocked her and gave her a little scare. I was calling about you."

"What can I do for you?" I asked. "I hope you don't want to ask how my legs are doing, because I could barely walk up the steps of City Hall this morning."

"Good," Sophie said gleefully, "then you can get here tonight for your next step. That back of yours isn't ready for heavy back work, but I can start you on something else. When are you done with work?"

"According to my assistant, as soon as I finish talking to a group of Boy Scouts. Say, five thirty or so?"

"Hmm, no, that’s not going to work. Be up here at six thirty tomorrow, I've got free time then. If Tabby's not pissed at you still, you can perhaps stay for dinner."

I smiled, the first real smile I'd had all day. "I could do that. By the way, I owe you a casserole dish."

“Don’t worry about the dish, councilman. Remember, six thirty."

Sophie hung up, and I felt a bounce in my step as I dashed down the steps of City Hall and grabbed a hot dog from the cart in front of the building. I was halfway back when I realized I was moving a lot easier than I had coming in that morning, and wondered if it was just that my soreness was wearing off, or if some of it had been due to my emotions. Either way, I scarfed my dog on the steps and went back inside.

I was a few minutes early to the Mayor's office, and found him sipping at a weight gainer shake, at least I suspected from the smell and the logo on the shaker bottle. "Hey Joe," I said, remembering from the first time he'd stopped by my office he preferred that form of address. "Stomach still bothering you?"

"Yes, but at least the weight has stabilized out," he said. "All it takes is one of these disgusting things a day. Seriously, how do guys built like you choke these damn things down?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I had a hot dog from the cart out front for lunch, and my diet is usually just regular food."

“You’re lucky,” Joe said. “Anyway, have a seat. How're things downstairs?"

Joe always referred to the City Council offices as 'downstairs,' like it was some other zip code or something. Ah well. "Not too bad. I've got myself an assistant now, Gwen. She used to work for a PAC."

"Really? I'd heard you had someone, but didn't know that. Do you remember which PAC?"

I shook my head. "I remember she worked for a pretty conservative group, but so far she's been really apolitical with me," I said. "Other than some advice on how to work the systems around here, she's not made a particular stand on any policy issues or anything like that."

"Sounds like a keeper then," Joe replied. "I've had a lot of challenges with that myself recently. So you're getting a feel for your district?"

"Same as when I came in, really. They need community investment, jobs, and someone to break the gangs up. Unfortunately, the city's got its hands full with everything but," I said, taking a seat across from him. Joe liked to sit at his desk for our meetings, but only for convenience's sake. He kept his hand busy writing down anything I said that needed his attention, and the coffee table in the front of the room was just too low. "Those community centers are going to be vital for us. That, and MJT continuing to invest."

"Not to mention the vigilante up in Filmore," Joe replied. "You're getting lots of non-governmental help, it seems."

"It would be better if I had some official government help instead," I said. "Joe, what's the status on getting more cops over to my district? I asked about it last month, but when I ask the Commissioner, I'm getting a lot of run around about manpower shortages. Which is strange since the department's been growing in size for the past four years."

"Which was slashed recently when a lot of cops were caught up in the Fed probe," Joe countered. "The rest are honest cops, at least I hope they are, but the power structure of the department was screwed royally by this. I've got five Captains that weren't even Lieutenants a year ago. On the good side they're hard working cops, but a lot of them are struggling to just figure out their jobs. They're even worse off than you are downstairs."

I had to agree, but still, with the second largest police force in the country, there should have been enough cops even with the problems. "How much of this is Union too?" I asked quietly. "I noticed that the manpower shortages in those areas have gotten worse since the community center project was launched."

"It's not helping," Joe admitted, "but there's nothing that could be proven. The PBA is a strong part of the Union. Same with the City Workers Association. Unless you happen to have a way to break Francine Berkowitz in your back pocket, you just have to work with what you have."

“Bullshit," I muttered to myself, although apparently much louder than I had anticipated as Joe nodded. "You can't do anything about it?"

Joe shook his head. "I'm hanging onto this chair by the skin of my teeth as it is. Now, that was my own damn fault, I'm not going to quibble on that. But right now Patrick, I've got enough on my plate just trying to make sure this entire goddamn city doesn't crumble and turn into Detroit or something. I'd love to fight the Union, take them down and get another brick out of the wall that's holding this city back. But you know what I learned in close to twenty five years of being in politics?"

"What?" I asked, both angry and intrigued. Joe had never been this open with me before, and while not exactly a slimy politician, had played his cards pretty close to the vest. I wondered what had him so damn talkative, but decided I'd figure that out later.

"The wall that's holding the city back, it's part of a larger structure, one that steers and controls the raging river that is the will of the people. Now, some of those bricks you need. They're the flood gates, the channels that prevent damage. You go in there and start smashing the whole damn thing, pretty soon you're going to find yourself up to you neck in a raging torrent, and that same flood is going to be destroying the good bricks along with the bad, going hellbent for leather and sweeping everything, good and bad out of its way. So sometimes, we have to do these things slowly."