Their Dirty Little Secret

Jacob let his pen roll across his desk without stopping it. He didn't care enough to grab it. He was bored beyond words as he waited for the day to attempt to entertain him. The small ballpoint making its short lived escape was the most action he had experienced all morning. Mentally drifting to other activities that he could be engaged in a soft smile crossed his handsome face.

He looked at the stack of files on his desk and looked just as quickly away. He had no desire to get started on them. He would rather throw them out the window than open a single folder. The pain of boredom was overwhelming him.

"Why did I want this job again?" he asked himself.

Staring at the ceiling, Jacob stone wondered what the answer to that question was. He was in his mid 40's, handsome, successful and well-liked. He had spent so many years preparing himself for public office. He had maintained the perfect, country club image with his naturally grey hair, crystal blue eyes, tan skin, dazzling white smile and swimmer's physique. Hell, even his opponents begrudgingly admitted he had charm. Having graduated from both Yale and Harvard law school, his intelligence was rarely in question. And then of course, there was Victoria.

Grimacing, he turned over a page in the monstrous tax report with a slash of anger. How could he forget about Victoria- his dear old bitch of a wife. Oh sure, she was beautiful, built like Marilyn Monroe and every bit the spitting image of her with a grace and elegance only those born rich could achieve. To the outside world, he was one lucky son of a bitch. But to those who knew her best, she was a diva, a spoiled brat and the truth of the matter, was that he had never really loved her. Hell, they had never really loved each other! But he was mayor now, running for governor and he needed the perfect image, his happiness be damned.

Leaning back in his chair, Jacob dropped the paper on the desk, sighing as he rubbed his eyes. Everything had been planned out for so long, that he couldn't fathom giving up this close. He'd won his first race without breaking a sweat, the bank or his body- and he loved that. He loved winning. He was a winner in all things and he loved to be on top. Well...in some experiences at least.

Jacob thought that running for governor would be the same. A little bit of schmoozing, a few white lies, couple of photo-ops and bam, he gets a new title on his door. Instead, this race and his position as mayor had him actually working. The thought made his lip curl. It had consumed his life. He had to contend with campaigning on top of all the damned files that never seemed to shrink in number. Part of him wondered if he was simply taking on too much. But then again, maybe he was just too prone to distraction as of late.

He felt himself growing hard as the memories of the yesterday's extracurricular activities warmed his senses. Biting his lip, he tried to fight the rising flush of heat skidding across his body. Despite his efforts, the urge seemed to be growing at an alarming pace. He forced himself to think of anything, hell even anyone to bring him back to work-mode. Victoria. Instantly his dick got limp. Yep, that was it. Just more thoughts about that annoying wife of his ought to do it. It was too early in the morning for that sort of indulgence.

Leaning back into his desk, he focused on the top piece of paper on the gigantic stack in front of him. He could feel his brain throb against his temples as he tried to focus on the sea of almost nonsensical numbers. He had truly learned to hate tax reports during his time in public office. He knew it was a part of the job, and something that he couldn't avoid, but it didn't mean he couldn't loathed it. A soft knock on the other side of the door barely broke his concentration as he tackled the army of numbers.

"Come in," he mumbled, deeply lost in thought. The job was getting to him. Running for office while trying to keep his mayorship was a huge mistake he morosely thought. The pay was horrible, the hours worse, but the prestige and the station would make it worth it. At least that's what he kept telling himself. And there were the fringe benefits to consider.

He could smell Nicolò as the scent of his cologne teased his nostrils and his cock. He barely looked up in time to see the latest edition of today's newspaper fall to his desk in front of him.

"Enjoy," Nicolò said. His voice hinted at sarcasm, but Jacob groaned. Anytime the media was involved it never looked good for him.

Bracing himself, he glanced on the cover and guffawed. It took everything for him to bite back the string of curses that fought to escape his lips.

"Damn that son of a bitch," he snarled, a grimace of anger forming on his face.

Andrew Blake had it out for him. Since the beginning of his campaign, every minute detail of his life that could be misconstrued had been splashed across the front of that rag of a newspaper called "Daily Politics". It was like the man had a secret vendetta against him.

Today's issue was no different than expected. Jacob was there, of course with his face blurred. The focus was as bad as could be imagined, but it was still obviously him. Next to him was Jessica, his secretary. The girl had always been there for him, keeping his secrets and grabbing coffee. What more could a man ask for? It was bad enough that she was forced to deal with private damage control as an assistant. However, Blake was intent on destroying Jacob, regardless of who got in the crossfire.