Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(66)

"That won't happen," I say. "I have a plan."





54





New York Daily Journal





From the Desk of Amanda Adams, the Professional Gossiper of Page Two.



Welcome to Page Two Gossip, here's what we're hearing around the halls of power:



With two days to go before the mayoral election, it seems we've started to see some balls start coming out of left field.

First we have rumors of a major rift opening up between the Mayor and  his pregnant wife, Jocelyn Anders. Sources inside the Mayor's campaign  talking on condition of anonymity because this is super secret confirm  to me that the Mayor and his wife are not, and have not been sleeping in  the same bedroom for months. It could be even before the election.

But wait, wasn't this the happy family? Wasn't the mayor all about  family values? In fact, wasn't his wife getting pregnant in the middle  of the election?

Yep. All of that was supposed to be Hizzoner, but deep cover sources are  telling me that a lot of what we think we know is very, very different  from what's actually happening.

Second curveball. Just when things were starting to go right, it looks  like our bad boy heartthrob has fallen off the wagon. Reports have been  surfacing for a few days that New Yorkers are starting to see Lance  Anders-the son of the mayor-back to his usual antics. He's been spotted  at the VIP section of Pasha-the high end Chelsea nightclub, partying  into the early hours of the morning.

Sources also tell me-again under complete anonymity-that he's moved out  of the Mayor's townhome. That's right. Something must have happened  between the Mayor and his son that was so bad that Lance moved out. He's  been spotted at the Plaza and I have two sources confirming that he's  been staying there. Not just that, but this whole thing may be revolving  around a mystery lover that Lance has. Does daddy not approve of  whoever Lance is dating? Is that why he moved out? This story is getting  juicier the more layers we dig.

Third and final curveball. Jocelyn Anders has announced a press  conference for tomorrow. At the time of this printing, we have no idea  what she plans to speak about, but we're willing to guess based on the  information that we have so far. We think it has to do with the same  reason that our sources are telling us that there's marital discord  between what we thought was the happy couple. In fact, it could even  deal with the baby itself. Oh, this could end up being bigger than we  even thought, New York. In a rare step, the Mayor's wife has also agreed  to open up the press conference to the public.

She'll be speaking at noon tomorrow on the steps of City Hall.

One thing we know for sure, Jocelyn Anders hails from a political  family. If she's coming out in public then something has gone on behind  the scenes that's big enough to rock the boat a few days before the  election. And whatever it is, you can bet that we're going to get you  the full story behind what they say. Till tomorrow then, New York. This  is Amanda Adams signing off. Keep your ears open, New York.





55





Jocelyn





The press are lined up in the front. The photographers are snapping  pictures. I can't understand how they even manage to look like they've  gone through a full day when it's still only 10 am.

Yeah, hon, you guessed it. I'm so nervous. I almost decided to call the whole thing off today when I woke up.

I mean, can you blame me? I'm going to go in front of 8.5 million people  in a few minutes right now and tell them that I've been a bad wife.  That not only that, but I've seduced my own stepson. Talk about chickens  coming home to roost.

I was literally five seconds away from sending Michael an email today.

But then I felt Lance's arms around my shoulder. He pulled me closer to  him in bed and I felt his cock grind against my ass. We've been sleeping  naked every night I've spent at the Plaza now that Michael knows. It  suits Michael just fine-Kenneth and he have been romping around I'll  bet.

This marriage is over. That's for sure. But we're not out of Michael's  crosshairs until we get this sorted. Lance and I can never be happy  until I go do this.

All that doubt that I was feeling in the morning? As soon as I felt  Lance's strong arms hold me tightly against him, as soon as I felt his  hard, cut body behind me, as soon as I thought about how much he loved  me and stood by me while I figured this entire situation out, and yes,  as soon as I felt that massive cock of his, I knew that I had to be in  his life.

And there's no way I can continue to be in his life if I don't do this.

I take a giant sigh and walk to the podium.

Michael and Lance have gone over all the details. For the purposes of  this press conference, Michael has felt it absolutely essential that  Lance not be there while I speak.

"We need the media to focus on Jocelyn," Michael apparently told Lance.  "We have one chance to come clean and get them on our side. If it looks  like we're trying to play them, this could spiral out of control. And  being there with her makes this whole thing look way more orchestrated  than we want to let on."

Of course, Michael was orchestrating this. Of course every detail had  been gone over with painstaking detail. Literally, the election for  mayor of the greatest city in the world is lying as the stakes.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Lance asked this morning  as we dressed. There had been a savage protectiveness to his lovemaking  in the shower, as he bent me against the wall and took me from behind as  the water pelted our bodies. "Or stand by you when you go on in front  of the press?"

"Michael said it was for the best if neither of you guys … " I had started but Lance wouldn't let me finish.         

     



 

"Fuck what anyone else says, Jocelyn," he cut me off. Then he brought  his arms around me and made me take a step closer. "All that fucking  matters to me in this whole world is you. Fuck everything else."

Honestly, just him telling me that at that moment made me realize that  no matter what, I had to be brave and get this done. Because this was  the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. So what if he was 15  years younger than me? So what if he had been my stepson? All my life,  I'd gone from man to man, being told how beautiful I was that I never  really knew what it meant to be cared for by someone. Michael gave me  neglect and contempt under a shield of status and power.

Lance gave me love. He gave me his body. And I wanted to give him my soul.

That's literally all I'm thinking about as I get onto the podium. How  after this, I want to go bury my face in Lance's chest. How I'll be able  to do that without having to worry.

Maybe we'll get some lunch at The Spotted Pig. I hear they make a great  burger. Maybe after that some shopping. Bergdorfs? No, I know just the  place. Saks Fifth Avenue. Maybe we could go back to the dressing room  where it all started …

The flash of a photographer brings me back down to the here and now. I  need to focus. There won't be any lunch with Lance if I don't do this.  There won't be any dressing room shenanigans if I mess it up.

"Thank you for coming today, ladies and gentlemen," I say, looking down  at the prepared notes I have. I've memorized them, but it helps to look  down. The press in the front grow silent. I can see a large crowd  assembled behind them. Ordinary New Yorkers, coming to see what the big  deal is. Hoping to find a moment in history. I continue. "I will have a  prepared statement, after which I will take any questions from the  media."

More photographs. People must be speculating what I'm going to say.  Well, I'm about to drop it. I wonder who will be left after the dust  clears.

"As many of you know, I've recently found out and am overjoyed by the  fact that I am pregnant," I say into the microphone and take a deep  breath. "Despite reports and statements made to the press, I am here  today to set the record straight. Michael Anders is not the father of my  child."

If I had told them that I was a Martian who had been secretly gathering  data about the human race in preparation for a future invasion, people  may have looked less stunned.

In fact, there's maybe a second or two where the photographers are too  stunned to do anything but look at me. Of course the cameras are  rolling, but the flash bulbs literally die down.

And then they come back. With a vengeance.

It seems like the brightness of a thousand suns descends onto the steps  of City Hall as the photographers furiously begin to take pictures. I  can hear the reporters right behind the photographers decide to dispense  with my earlier rules and shout out questions. I feel overwhelmed.

But there's only one way through this.

"Like all marriages, Michael's and mine faced troubles," I begin and  seeing that I'm continuing, the camera flashes begin to die down. The  reporters also eventually stop shouting questions, realizing they won't  be getting answers. "Unfortunately, the problems we faced seem at this  point to be insurmountable."

I pause and look to the audience. They've settled down a bit. Their  still chomping at the bit, waiting for me to finish, but they're giving  me the courtesy now.