The Mayor's Dirty Little Secret

CHAPTER THREE

The elevator doors closed and it was just us.

The mirror on the back wall showing me a version of myself that looked softer than I felt, leaning into a man I had known for approximately three hours and trusting him with a weight I did not give anyone.

He was looking straight ahead at the doors.

"You're thinking very loudly," I said.

"I'm trying to figure out the responsible thing to do," he said.

"And what is the responsible thing?"

"I haven't found it yet," he said, which was honest in a way that made my chest do something inconvenient.

I shifted my weight and his arm adjusted around me automatically, no hesitation, just correction, like keeping me upright was something his body had already decided was its job.

"Xavier."

"Don't," he said quietly.

"I haven't said anything."

"You were about to say you're fine," he said.

I looked up at him. He was still looking at the doors but his jaw was tight and there was something working behind his eyes that had nothing to do with the case anymore.

"How are you still this composed," I said.

"I'm not," he said. Just that. No elaboration.

The elevator hummed. The warmth of the drug was moving through me in slow deliberate waves and I was increasingly aware of how close we were standing, how his hand felt at my waist, how his breathing had changed in a way that his face was working very hard not to show.

"Xavier," I said again.

He looked down at me this time and that was his mistake because I was already looking up at him and the distance between us was nothing, it was absolutely nothing, and whatever composure he had been holding onto made a sound like something structural giving way.

"This is the drug," he said. His voice was lower than it had been.

"I know," I said.

"I want to be clear that I know that," he said, not moving.

"You've been clear," I said, also not moving.

"Vanessa."

"Xavier."

He said something under his breath that I didn't catch and then his hand came up to my face and the touch was careful, deliberate, like a man making a decision he knows he cannot unmake. His fingers traced my jawline, then slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Our lips met hard, his mouth pressing against mine with a hunger that matched the fire building inside me from the drug. I opened my mouth to him immediately, and his tongue pushed in, tasting me deeply, sliding against mine in wet, urgent strokes.

I moaned into his mouth, my hands fisting his shirt tighter, pulling his body flush against me. He groaned back, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine. His free hand gripped my hip, fingers digging in as he angled his head to kiss me harder, sucking on my lower lip before biting it lightly, then soothing it with his tongue. The drug made every touch electric, my skin tingling where his body pressed against me. I could feel his c**k hardening against my stomach through his pants, thick and insistent, and I rocked my hips forward instinctively, grinding against him.

"f**k, Vanessa," he muttered against my lips, his breath hot and ragged. He kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue f*****g my mouth in a rhythm that made my p***y clench with need. My hands moved up to his hair, tugging at the strands, and he responded by pushing me back against the elevator wall, his body pinning me there. His hand slid down from my neck, over my shoulder, cupping my breast through my shirt, thumb rubbing over my n****e until it hardened into a peak.

I gasped, breaking the kiss for a second to breathe, but he didn't let me go far. He licked along my jaw, down to my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "You taste so good," he whispered, his voice rough. The elevator kept rising, but we didn't care. The drug surged through us, turning the heat into something uncontrollable, making my body ache for more.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide. "We shouldn't—"

"Shut up," I said, grabbing his face and kissing him again, hard and demanding. My tongue tangled with his, and I sucked on it, drawing another low groan from him. His hand squeezed my breast, then slipped under my shirt, pushing up my bra to touch bare skin. His palm was warm, rough, and I arched into it, wanting him to pinch my n****e, to make it hurt a little in the best way.

The elevator dinged softly, but we ignored it. His fingers rolled my n****e between them, tugging gently, and I whimpered into his mouth. The kiss turned sloppy, wet sounds filling the small space as our lips slid together, tongues thrusting. I could taste the faint bitterness of the drug on him, mixed with something uniquely him, and it only made me kiss him harder, my teeth grazing his lip.

Finally, he broke away, breathing heavy. "Third floor," he said against my mouth.

"Okay," I said, my voice shaky.

The doors opened and we didn't look at each other and we didn't let go either. He pulled me out into the dimly lit hallway, his hand firm on my waist. The building was quiet, old carpet muffling our steps as he led me to his door. His fingers fumbled with the key for a second, the drug making his movements jerky, before it clicked open.

We stumbled inside, the door slamming shut behind us. The apartment was small, sparse— a couch, a kitchenette, bed in the corner visible through an open door. But none of that mattered. He pushed me against the wall just inside, kissing me again with that same fierce hunger. His hands were everywhere now, yanking at my shirt, pulling it over my head. I helped, shrugging it off, then reached for his belt.

"Vanessa," he said, voice strained as he unhooked my bra, tossing it aside. His mouth latched onto my breast, sucking my n****e hard, tongue flicking over it. I cried out, the sensation shooting straight to my core, my p***y wet and throbbing from the drug's influence.

"Don't stop," I begged, unbuckling his belt, shoving his pants down. His c**k sprang free, hard and thick, the head already leaking pre-c*m. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking firmly, feeling it pulse in my grip. He groaned against my skin, hips bucking into my touch.

"God, you feel good," he muttered, lifting his head to kiss me again. His hands worked my pants open, pushing them down along with my underwear. I kicked them off, standing naked before him, the air cool against my heated skin. He stripped quickly, shirt gone, pants kicked away, until we were both bare.

He lifted me then, hands under my ass, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. We moved toward the bed, mouths locked in another deep kiss, his c**k sliding against my wet folds as he carried me. The friction made me moan, my c**t aching for more.

He dropped me onto the bed gently, following me down, his body covering mine. "I need you," he said, voice raw, eyes locked on mine. The drug made everything intense, every touch amplified, turning desire into desperation.

"Then take me," I said, spreading my legs wider.

He didn't hesitate. His hand guided his c**k to my entrance, rubbing the head through my slickness before pushing in. I was so wet he slid in easily, inch by inch, stretching me full. I gasped at the fullness, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"f**k, you're tight," he groaned, bottoming out, his hips flush against mine. He paused for a second, breathing hard, then started moving. Slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in, deep and hard.

"Yes, like that," I said, rocking up to meet him. The drug made my body hypersensitive, every slide of his c**k against my walls sending sparks through me. He picked up speed, thrusting faster, the bed creaking under us.

"You like that?" he asked, voice rough, leaning down to suck on my neck as he f****d me.

"Harder," I demanded, wrapping my legs tighter around him. He obeyed, pounding into me, his balls slapping against my ass with each thrust. Sweat slicked our skin, making our bodies slide together. I reached between us, rubbing my c**t, the added pressure building the pleasure fast.

He grabbed my hand, pinning it above my head. "Let me," he said, his thumb taking over, circling my c**t firmly while he kept thrusting.

"I'm close," I panted, kissing him sloppily, tasting salt on his lips.

"Come for me," he urged, his thrusts erratic now, hips snapping hard. His free hand squeezed my breast, pinching the n****e.

It hit me like a wave, my p***y clenching around his c**k as I came, crying out his name. "Xavier!" Waves of pleasure rolled through me, my body shaking.

He followed seconds later, groaning loud as he buried himself deep, c**k pulsing as he came inside me, filling me with hot spurts of c*m. He collapsed onto me, both of us breathing heavy, bodies tangled and slick.

We lay there for a while, his weight comforting, the drug's high fading into a warm buzz. He kissed my shoulder softly, then rolled off, pulling me against his side. "That was..." he started, but trailed off, stroking my hair.

"Yeah," I agreed, too spent to say more. Sleep pulled at me, heavy and quick, the exhaustion from the night catching up.

I woke up to sunlight filtering through thin curtains, my body sore in the best ways. The bed was empty beside me, sheets cool where someone had been. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the events of last night fuzzy at the edges. The drug must have lingered, muddling my memory.

Panic flickered as I looked around. Clothes scattered on the floor—mine and a man's. But whose? I tried to recall his face, the way he felt, but the name slipped away. Xavier? No, that didn't sound right. Had I even gotten his name? The elevator, the kiss, the s*x—it all blurred together, passionate but anonymous now in the light of day.

I was alone, naked in a stranger's bed, with no idea who he was or where he'd gone. My heart raced as I gathered my clothes, dressing quickly. The room was silent, door unlocked. I slipped out, the hallway empty, and made my way to the elevator, questions swirling in my head.

Who was he? And why did he leave without a word?