Taylor for Mayor

Believe me, I was as surprised as everyone else when I revisited Faircombe to see what Brooke and Taylor were up to and learned about this. But I really felt like it makes so much sense for her/them.

Besides, it's been a while since we've really returned to the In the Long Run universe...

----------- Taylor for Mayor -------------

When Taylor informed Brooke about her desire to run for mayor, shock, confusion, and disbelief were – understandably – the key emotions involved.

“Another mayoral election begins, another cycle that Kevin fucking Leland throws his hat in the ring,” Brooke groused as she closed the door behind her.

Even though she couldn’t see Taylor, she knew that she was in the kitchen and could definitely hear her. Even if she couldn’t smell whatever soup Taylor was simmering, if Taylor beat her home at the end of the day, she was always either in the kitchen or the lounge, always beaming expectantly as soon as she laid eyes on Brooke.

Quickly, methodically, Brooke laid out her items in their correct spots – she hung her keys on the correct rung – Taylor’s were also here, through she hung her keys in whichever hook she happened to get her keys latched onto when she tossed them unerringly at the wall – toed off her shoes and slid them into their slot on the shoe tree, and then placed her work bag on the larger hook designated to hold it.

She had some paperwork that she could review tonight, and once upon a time, she would have done it. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t even have hung her work bag up here, and would have prepared dinner for herself as her paperwork kept her company.

That time was past, however, as she eagerly walked through the doorway into the kitchen, pausing as she laid her eyes on Taylor. Who was, indeed, at the stove, simmering her soup.

God, Brooke didn’t think it would ever get old.

She’d been with Taylor for two and a half years now, Taylor had moved in officially over two years ago, and they’d been married for over a year, and yet seeing her here never failed to make Brooke’s heart stutter in her chest.

All of that long, chestnut brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail that fell halfway down her back. She wore an oversized green sweatshirt, faded from the number of times it had been worn, and leggings, with her bare feet against the hardwood floor of their kitchen.

Most of all, those brown eyes twinkled at her so warmly, just like the wide, unguarded smile she wore.

When Brooke got home from work, Taylor always looked at her like this. Like she was thrilled to see her.

And because Taylor was Taylor, Brooke knew that she really, truly was.

Just as Brooke, herself, was to see Taylor.

Granted, maybe thrilled wasn’t the right word for what Brooke felt when she came home – to the home she’d bought and renovated, the home that Taylor had always sought refuge in, that they now shared – to Taylor.

It was more of a wonder, every time.

Taylor crossed the room to meet her halfway, using the hand that she wasn’t holding a wooden spoon with to tilt Brooke’s jaw up. She easily moved with her, anticipating the soft press of Taylor’s full lips to hers.

Admittedly, it was a very, very soothing balm after a shitty day at the office.

“Hello, honey,” Taylor murmured, as she pulled away and stepped back in position at the stove, using said spoon to stir in the pot. “Long day at work?”

“It was… fine.” Brooke heaved a sigh.

Maybe Taylor was a soothing balm, but it didn’t change the facts.

Taylor sent her an amused look. “Yeah? Fine? Is this what fine sounds like?” She teased.

“It was fine,” Brooke doubled down on, before dropping her head back with a groan. “Until Kevin whistled his way down into my office to get his official paperwork in the system to re-run for mayor. And even though I knew he would, logically, I just really, really fucking hoped he’d finally decide it wasn’t worth his time and energy.”

Brooke expected Taylor’s usual response when she had a tough day dealing with Kevin – either a vitriolic agreement about what a shit he was or a soft sympathy.

Taylor, this time, gave her neither.

Instead, she half-faced the stove, lackadaisically stirring the soup, as her bottom lip poked out thoughtfully. “Has anyone else thrown their hat in?”

Brooke shrugged, walking over near Taylor and leaning against the countertop. Taylor’s presence after a long day was soothing, just being around her. “Not yet. And they might; Kevin’s never run unopposed… technically. But he’s never had real competition, either.”

The Leland’s were a big name in their county, his family name was behind several of the largest developments in the area. He had a lot of friends, and a lot of popularity.

It sucked.

“Unfortunately, for anyone to stand a chance against him for the sheer number of votes he turns out, it would have to be someone people know. Someone already visible that people like and respect. Ideally, someone that could bring out more voters in Faircombe.”

Their local elections yielded a fair number of voter turnout, but Faircombe – like every place in the country – could stand to get an injection of voters to turn up, especially in local elections.

She narrowed her eyes curiously at Taylor, wondering what was going on in that gloriously large brain of hers. Knowing Taylor, she wouldn’t have to wait long before she found out.

And she was right –

“You think someone with the Vandenberg name could do it?” Taylor asked, not looking at Brooke as she gave her attention to the food in front of her.

Brooke scoffed a laugh. “I’ve tried to get Ben to run, believe me.”

Now, Taylor did look at her, a laugh spilling out of her lips. “Oh, I know. I was there for the powerpoint. All thirty-seven minutes of it.”

Brooke flushed, but she took Taylor’s teasing in stride rather than let it ruffle her feathers. “I thought it did a good job presenting Faircombe, mayoral responsibilities, and how insane I’m going to go working with Kevin for another term. Or, as it’s seeming to be, in perpetuity.”

“It did,” Taylor assured her, a sincerity in her voice as she turned, settling her hip against the counter next to where Brooke was leaning. “Ben, however, seemed unmoved.”

Frustratingly true.

Even though her best friend was sympathetic to Brooke’s plight, Ben had been unwilling to run for mayor. He was busy running his clinic, his relationship with Lainey was getting more serious, he was trying to go to as many of Jo’s track meets as he possibly could – Brooke got it.

Local politics weren’t for everyone.

“Maybe… a woman with the Vandenberg name could have some sway, though,” Taylor mused, arching an eyebrow slowly at Brooke.

Who frowned back at her wife, even as she lightly bumped her hip into Taylor’s. “As far as I’m aware, Savannah’s time and attention is pretty busy with Henry and the bakery, and she’s expressed even less of an interest in politics than Ben has.”

Taylor let out an exasperated laugh. “Are you being deliberately obtuse with me?” She asked, amusement firmly in place as she stared intently at Brooke.

And Brooke, who wasn’t being deliberately obtuse, stared back.

For several long seconds, before she finally registered what the hell Taylor was talking about.

Her mouth fell open at the realization. “You? You – Taylor, come on. What?”

She nearly laughed, but she couldn’t actually manage it. Not when Taylor was looking at her so earnestly.

“Yes, me.”

Luckily, her wife wasn’t easily offended.

Brooke shook her head, staring up into those dark eyes, “I – I really appreciate you being willing to do this so I don’t have to work with Kevin, but–”

“Even though I definitely would do this to help you avoid working with Butthead Kevin, it’s actually not the main reason,” Taylor stated, and her voice was calm and intent, her gaze level.

Brooke’s eyebrows furrowed, bafflement working through her. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

“Well,” Taylor began, reaching up to stroke the backs of her fingers down Brooke’s cheek. “I actually got the idea a few weeks ago, during that powerpoint.”

“I knew it was a good one.”

“It was,” Taylor agreed, sliding her hand down gently, her fingertips trailing over Brooke’s jaw.

Brooke was long used to how much Taylor enjoyed touching her like this – in touches that felt intimate – during moments of every day conversation. Still, it never failed to make her heart skip a beat. Even now, in this insane moment.

“And I just got to thinking about it. About your vision for Faircombe and how passionate you are about it. Brooke, you’re my wife; I listen to you and the love you have for our town every day. There’s no way I could be unaffected by it.”

A warmth settled inside of Brooke, then, and even though she hadn’t believed she could fall impossibly deeper for Taylor, here she was.

“When I chose Faircombe as my home a few years ago, I committed myself to it, too. I live here, my wife lives here, my family lives here. I’m part of this community, now. A big part.”

And Taylor wasn’t wrong.

Not only was her yoga studio doing amazingly, but her consistent posts on her social medias and her website about life in their small town had yielded undeniable results to their boosts in both tourism and a revitalization in the last year and a half to their population. More young, left-leaning people had started to settle in Faircombe than in any other comparable city Brooke knew of.

Which, in turn, had led to a boost in local stores and sales.

Taylor’s impact had been obvious and incredible, and Brooke was amazed by it. By the person Taylor had become, and by the influence she held.

“I love seeing what I’ve been able to do, from an influential perspective. And I want that. I want more of it, for Faircombe. For other towns like ours to take note. I want these places like the one you and I are from to become better, safer communities. Think about it, Brooke.” Taylor’s hands slid down to take Brooke’s in her own. The passion and excitement in her voice was undeniable and undeniably attractive.

“Really, think about it,” Taylor repeated, stroking her thumbs over the backs of Brooke’s hands. “Because I have for the last few weeks. Really thought about it. About all of the things you could really achieve running this city, if you didn’t have a mayor trying to cut you down at every turn. About what you and I could do for this place when we both want the same thing for it. About what it would say about Faircombe – what it has the potential to say about small towns and the south – for us to have an openly lesbian city manager, mayor, and the first seat of the city council, with Anna-Lynne.”

“Taylor…” Brooke trailed off, shaking her head slightly as she tried to wrap her mind around it. “Are you sure? Really sure you want this? You’ve thought about the time commitments, the responsibilities?”

“Brooke B. Watson, a woman could literally not be married to you without becoming deeply conscientious.” Taylor’s eyes searched hers. “I’ve thought about it,” she confirmed, squeezing Brooke’s hands in hers. “We both know that being the mayor isn’t a full-time job in Faircombe. I’ll barely have to change my schedule at the studio, and I’ll still have time to take several trips a year.”

Taylor wasn’t incorrect – Faircombe’s mayoral position only required a minimum of five office hours a week at City Hall and to lead City Council meetings. Kevin enjoyed being a pain in her ass and trying to grasp at as much power as possible, which was why he was so irritatingly present.

“Taylor, honey, can you just confirm – once and for all – that you’re serious about this, before my mind tries to immediately jump into campaign strategies?” Brooke asked, trying to claw back on the excitement that was starting to build inside of her.

Because now that this seemed like a legitimate possibility, Brooke wanted it. She wanted it with a visceral power that took her breath away, and her mind was already starting to turn with the possibilities.

Taylor used her hold on Brooke to tug her forward, holding Brooke’s stare with her own, as she told her in a certain tone. “Brooke, sweetheart, I am serious about this. Especially if you think I have a chance. Though, I’m not above fighting a losing battle.”

Brooke surged forward up onto her tiptoes to press her mouth to Taylor’s.

Oh, no. Taylor was not going to lose. That much Brooke was certain about.

***

The several months leading up to the election had caused a whole host of other emotions for Brooke.

A visceral satisfaction, when Taylor’s campaign was announced and she got to see Kevin’s reaction. Shock, irritation, and an incontestable seed of fear.

Kevin had always known in past elections that his victory was guaranteed. But they both knew how strong the Vandenberg name was in Faircombe, let alone the fact that Taylor’s name held so much sway with much of the younger, newer population. Those that didn’t typically vote in their mayoral elections.

Overwhelming pride, whenever she saw Taylor’s campaign signs in town. Vandenberg – a name you can trust.

Admiration, as she watched Taylor take this election so incredibly seriously. How she practiced debates with Brooke, took notes, did political research.

Taylor was so sharp, so dedicated when she applied herself. Brooke couldn’t believe, even still, how she’d not understood the full scope of what Taylor was capable of until only a few years ago.

And she’d nearly burst with excitement when Taylor had officially been declared the winner in November.

Even though they’d been at a party at Ben’s as they’d awaited the results, she’d cheered the loudest when it was announced. And she’d felt no embarrassment when Taylor had quite literally leapt under her arms, wrapping those long legs around Brooke’s waist as she’d fisted her hands in Brooke’s hair and kissed her.

All of those feelings were somewhat to be expected, she supposed. After all, not only did she love Taylor with every fiber of her being, and she was thrilled for Taylor’s success, but she got to see her wife defeat her nemesis?

It was like a fairy tale.

Brooke had never believed in fairy tales; she’d never even been given the chance to. Between the food instability, hiding from bill collectors, her mother’s violent bouts of drinking, her father treating their home like a motel he sometimes stayed in, Brooke’s earliest memories weren’t happy ones.

The last few years had done a number on battling out those early memories. The stability she’d created for herself in her adult life had been warmed and cushioned and made into something beautiful with having Taylor by her side.

Fairy tale-esque, seriously.

What they never covered in those fairy tales was what happened behind closed doors.

There were no lessons on how Brooke should be behaving when she was sitting across the large table from Taylor Vandenberg, her wife, as Taylor presided over their city council meetings.

At first, Brooke had been simply thrilled by the fact that Kevin was no longer in the room. She’d forgotten when it had felt like, to not have someone opposing everything she said, purely to be contrary to her.

With Taylor at the helm, their council meetings were actually productive; by their third meeting, they were actually able to make effective decisions and plans for the next quarter, and it was fucking amazing.

What Brooke hadn’t thought to prepare herself for, was the onslaught of utter lust that swept through her during these meetings.

She’d never once been turned on in a council meeting before in her life. How could she? Why would she be? Discussing the ins and outs of Faircombe and the future was something she was passionate about, but not in any sort of sexual way.

At least, she hadn’t thought so.

It had started at Taylor’s very first council meeting as mayor. She’d arrived perfectly on time, shooting Brooke a wink as she’d walked into the meeting room. And she’d worn a pair of her linen pants that looked so casual and chic, paired with one of Brooke’s button-downs that she must have stolen from Brooke’s side of the closet, and Brooke’s throat had run dry immediately.

Clearing it, she’d announced, “As all of you are aware, Taylor Vandenberg has officially been sworn in as our town’s mayor. Welcome to city council meetings.”

“Honored to be here,” Taylor had easily returned, grinning at her, before offering the same smile to everyone at the table. She’d stood behind the empty seat at the other head of the table opposite Brooke, leaning her forearms over the top as she spoke. “I know that the last mayor had some very strong opinions about Faircombe. I know that there are several people here who agreed with him, to varying degrees. And while I welcome every opinion at this table, I’m going to insist that we all keep things civil and respectful at this table.”

She used a stern tone of voice, albeit friendly, but it was something Brooke was entirely unfamiliar with. Because Taylor was just so effortlessly warm and effusive, damn near all of the time. Especially in the last couple of years, the more she’d become comfortable in Faircombe.

Brooke would dare say Taylor was thriving here. While she travelled and kept her website alive and well, she also settled. Two things could be true.

And the more she thrived, the more comfortable she was, the more active she’d become in the community. Long before wanting to run for mayor, Taylor had started engaging in all of the events in town. Not because of Brooke or her family, either. Hell, sometimes Taylor would come to her to talk about events!

As such, Taylor had become extremely friendly – and very popular – around town. They could hardly leave the house without someone approaching Taylor to talk about something. It was like being married to a celebrity.

“Now, you all likely knew my father in some capacity.” Several nods and murmurs of acknowledgement moved around the table, all very positive; Ben Sr.’s popularity remained even after he’d retired. “I do take this responsibility with the same dedication he did. I can’t say I’ll continue to run for mayor for decades,” she laughed, that sweet, soft chuckle that drew everyone – well, it definitely drew Brooke – in. “But I’m in this. And while I love and respect my father, I think everyone here also knows me well enough to know that I am my own person, with my own love and vision for Faircombe.”

She drew her arms back slowly over the back of the leather chair, and for some reason, Brooke found herself riveted to the motion. To the way the soft leather of the chair looked pressed against Taylor’s skin, before she moved to grip the headrest firmly in her hands. The move, for Taylor, was thoughtless. Casual.

But all Brooke could see was the way her long, tan fingers looked. Strong, firm.

She shook her head, taking a deep breath, as she’d refocused. Taylor deserved all of her attention and support right now.

“Isn’t that why we’re all here? Let’s be real – being on the city council in Faircombe isn’t exactly some cushy position,” Taylor’s laugh rang out again, mingling with everyone else’s at her comment. “We’re all here, dedicating our time and energy, because we are trying to do what we think is best for our home. For our families. And I’d really like to think that we seriously can make some positive change.”

With that, she swiftly rolled out her chair and draped herself in it. It was the only way Brooke could think to describe it. Every move Taylor made was easy, languid.

She made eye contact with Taylor’s warm, smiling eyes, as her wife nodded at her. “Thanks for my little welcome spiel. Back to Brooke B. Watson for our regularly scheduled programming. After all, I’m the new woman on the block.”

Taylor had leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table, then her chin in her palm, as she turned everyone’s attention back to Brooke.

Who’d pulled herself out of whatever weird little trance she’d been sucked into, and directed the meeting.

It had gotten a little more… intense during the second meeting, two weeks after that first one.

Taylor, having closely observed the way in which Brooke and the other council members typically ran their meetings, was more prepared.

She’d had a notebook and tablet in front of her, slowly twirling a pen through her fingers, the movements mesmerizing to Brooke from the other end of the table.

Taylor’s focus wasn’t on Brooke, but on the notes she’d brought with her. “The most pressing issue, as we all should know after Brooke sent out the proposed budget Monday, is that we need to finalize the budget for next quarter. Specifically, the budget for Faircombe High – there’s a meeting with the school board to discuss allocations of funding tomorrow.”

God, Brooke didn’t know what was wrong with her. She really didn’t.

Discussing budgets was not sexy. It was not arousing.

And yet, the longer Taylor talked it through in her throaty voice, the hotter Brooke felt.

She found herself literally clenching her thighs together when Taylor briefly engaged in a debate with John about the school budget going to update the football field versus new tablets for the students.

She realized at the end of that meeting that no, budgets and schedules and the main street waterline replacement were not sexy.

But Taylor was. Especially Taylor – Mayor Taylor Vandenberg – putting her beautiful brain and quick quips to use on the council, sitting opposite Brooke and sharing small smiles with her.

Oh, yes. That was very, very sexy, indeed.

Brooke now sat in their third meeting, squirming uncomfortably in her seat at how ridiculously turned on she was.

She was annoyed about this, she decided. She was irritated that Taylor wasn’t even trying to turn her on – she wasn’t trying to do anything other than doing her job as mayor and do it well.

But, apparently, that was one of Brooke’s turn-ons.

Taylor saying something about making sure all permits for the upcoming festival are approved, and Brooke bit her lip.

Taylor triumphantly announced that their affordable housing proposal had gone through all the proper channels and has been officially approved – the apartment complexes would be getting the updates they needed, and Brooke squeezed her eyes closed, unable to look directly at the bright smile on Taylor’s face.

Brooke did her best – which was a solid effort – to hide the fact she was fucking soaked simply because her wife was smart and passionate and capable. All things that she obviously already knew! This was insane.

“So, back to our illustrious city manager. Anything we didn’t appropriately cover?” Taylor’s voice reached Brooke.

She quickly opened her eyes, cheeks burning, as she glimpsed down at her own notes. It was a quick glimpse, but – something else that was a brand-new development in having Taylor sitting across from her – Brooke could trust that Taylor was diligent and thoroughly covered all necessary topics Brooke pre-sent to the council without Brooke needing to breathe down her neck.

“Uh, no. I think you handled it all.” She wondered if her voice as a gruff to everyone else as it sounded to her.

It didn’t seem so – everyone started to pack up their belongings as per usual.

Everyone except for Taylor, that was. Brooke’s gaze slid back to her, unable to stay away, only to find Taylor already staring at her.

Watching her closely. Very closely. Studying, almost.

Brooke swallowed hard, lifting an eyebrow in silent question at her wife.

Whose response was for the edges of her perfectly full lips to slowly slide into a smile. A smile that – to the untrained eye – looked just like all of Taylor’s typical grins.

Brooke’s eye was not untrained. She’d learned all of Taylor’s various smiles, many years over.

This one… this one was knowing.

She slowly took in a deep breath, trying to calm the way the heat notched even higher in her stomach.

“That concludes our meeting, then,” Taylor said, and it wasn’t Brooke’s imagination that it was an octave lower. She knew it wasn’t. “I’ll see everyone back here in two weeks.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow for yoga,” Anna-Lynne returned with a chuckle, as she slid her bag over her shoulder.

Taylor tore her gaze away from Brooke, smiling so easily at her secret high school fling turned friend. “Good point. I should have said – I’ll see you all around town within the next forty-eight hours or so.”

“Are you okay, boss?” Marisa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Brooke could feel her cheeks heat even more, as she snapped her head to her right, meeting her assistant’s concerned stare. “What? Of course. Why?”

Marisa’s incredulity was obvious as she stared Brooke down. “Uh, because you’ve been distracted all meeting? At least, that’s how it seems. Which is very, very strange for you, so – crazy me – I assumed you were maybe not feeling well?”

“I definitely don’t feel… normal,” Brooke muttered, mortified that it was visible.

Granted, Marisa had sat by her side at more than a hundred meetings; if anyone would be able to tell when Brooke wasn’t quite right, it would be her.

Marisa clicked her tongue. “Knew it. I have a copy of all of the discussion notes; I’ll send it to you in the morning.”

“Thanks.” Her gratitude was entirely sincere, even if she couldn’t believe she was in this situation.

She watched her assistant pack up for the night, resolutely keeping her gaze away from Taylor.

“See you tomorrow. Unless you call in sick, that is.”

“I’ll see you at the bakery for scone day,” Taylor brightly commented, her tone gently teasing.

Marisa flushed. “Mhmm, maybe you will. Bye!” She hustled out the door.

“You really know how to clear a room,” Brooke said, quietly, ducking her head, as she busied herself organizing her stuff. Which… was never disorganized in the first place, really, so she was mostly just trying to keep herself busy.

“One of my special skills in this life,” Taylor agreed, as she pushed her chair back and stood, before slowly walking toward Brooke’s end of the table.

She still wasn’t looking at Taylor; she was trying to maintain any sense of decorum in this room. This room that was sacred to her.

She could, however, see the way Taylor trailed her fingertips slowly along the table toward her.

“You know, my lovely wife, you haven’t looked at me since I arrived. Not really. I would love to know why that is.”

“Not true,” Brooke disagreed, even though it was weak. They both knew Taylor was correct.

“Sure, you glanced at my face when I was talking from time to time,” Taylor allowed, but there was so much more unspoken in her tone.

It made Brooke’s stomach clench.

In response, she deliberately lifted her gaze to meet Taylor’s. And found that she had trouble catching her breath from the glint in those dark eyes. Playful, as always. But also hungry. As if she was a predator and Brooke was the only prey for miles.

“And… what would you call this?” She asked, cursing herself for how hoarse her own voice was.

Taylor reached out and gripped the top of Brooke’s chair on either side of her head, using her hold to turn the chair to face her, and Brooke couldn’t help the sharp exhalation that left her, sounding more like a whimper than she was comfortable with. Especially in this place.

Her throat ran dry as she tilted her head up at Taylor standing over her, making a point to hold eye contact with her.

“Let me ask you this, Brooke: would you say that I know you well? That after three years of being together and nearly forty years of knowing one another – would you agree that I know how to read you like a book?” Taylor tilted her head down, a sinfully attractive smile on her perfect lips.

“I think you can read a lot of people,” Brooke deliberately side-stepped, biting at her cheek to force herself to stay focused.

To force herself not to think about how wet she was, how she was aching between her thighs. Trying, with everything she had, to not let Taylor read her mind. Or, more accurately, her body.

“You’d make a great lawyer in another life, love,” Taylor shot back, laughing with it. The raspy chuckle, from back in her throat, made Brooke shiver. “But I think–” she widened her stance. “You and I both know–” she used the grip she had at the top of Brooke’s chair to roll her forward, slotting Brooke between her thighs. “That I know you inside and out, by now.”

With that, Taylor lowered herself slowly to Brooke’s lap.

Brooke inhaled sharply. Inhaled Taylor’s intoxicating scent, and held it in her lungs.

She knew in that moment, as she felt Taylor deliberately shift her hips against her own, that she was a complete and total goner.

“You seem very confident in that,” Brooke murmured, still. Even so, her hands came up to hold onto Taylor’s hips of their own accord. Digging her fingers in, hard. She told herself it was a touch to ground herself, but she knew it was just because she wanted to feel Taylor.

She’d wanted it ever since Taylor had walked into the meeting tonight on-time to the minute, wearing her leggings and tank top that fit her like a second skin – having come directly from the studio – with one of Brooke’s blazers tugged over it that she must have stolen from Brooke’s office on her way to the meeting.

The look should have been somewhat silly. In theory, Taylor should have looked like someone that was trying to look like a professional adult. Instead, she looked…

Brooke licked her lips, her head falling back against the headrest. She looked really fucking hot.

“Oh, because I am,” Taylor agreed, leaning in. “Very confident.”

Her words were barely a whisper, her lips brushing against Brooke as she spoke. So close Brooke could feel the vibration of them, and she burned for it.

And still, Taylor didn’t kiss her.

Still, she remained bare millimeters away from where Brooke ached to feel her. To taste her.

“I can tell when you want me,” Taylor breathed against Brooke’s mouth. She slid her hands down, one sliding into Brooke’s hair and gathering it into a fist, as the other slid to grip her shoulder.

Brooke’s own breathing betrayed her, turning thick and ragged, even as she challenged, “Oh?”

“You think I don’t know the way my own wife’s eyes look, when you’re thinking about fucking me? When you’re thinking about me fucking you? Do you think I don’t know exactly what is on your mind, every time you stare at me and bite your lip?” Taylor asked, leaning in – and everything in Brooke demanded she lean in to meet her.

To press her mouth to Taylor’s, to taste her. Finally, after having waited all night long, after having been tortured throughout this entire meeting, to be able to wrap herself up in Taylor.

She found herself stopped from being able to do so, as Taylor’s hands in her hair and on her shoulder tightened, keeping Brooke pressed firmly back into her chair. Precisely where, it seemed, Taylor wanted her.

She squirmed against Taylor, wanting to break free. Not to get away, but to get to Taylor.

And she damned Taylor’s quiet yoga-given strength as much as she fucking loved it, because she found herself held down, exactly where Taylor wanted.

The slow grin that slid over her wife’s face made Brooke clench her thighs. God, it was so wrong. So irritating. But this teasing aspect of Taylor that drove Brooke nuts was something that aroused her beyond belief, especially now that Taylor used it like this.

“Taylor,” she grit out.

“You think I don’t know that you’re so wet right now, so wanting for me?” Taylor rolled her hips down, hard, into Brooke’s, and a groan was ripped from the back of her throat.

Fuck, that felt amazing. That pressure, after hours of watching Taylor sit opposite this table from her – felt like fucking heaven.

“Taylor–” she tried again.

“I’ve known that this version of me has turned you on since day one, Brooke B. Watson,” Taylor leaned in to whisper against the shell of her ear, her breath hot, and Brooke shuddered against her.

Her hands flexed, hard, on Taylor’s hips.

“I’m your wife, the mayor of the town you love so deeply, and we are embarking on a journey together to care about this place we call home. And you fucking love it.” Taylor bit down on her earlobe and Brooke gasped, arching into her.

So needy. So insanely, intently, unashamedly needy.

“Let’s – we need to get home. Now,” Brooke’s voice sounded like she’d swallowed gravel, so rough from the want that pulsed through her.

The smile that crawled over Taylor’s perfect lips said a thousand words. It spoke volumes even before Taylor shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so. Not yet.”

Before Brooke could think about what Taylor meant by that, Taylor’s mouth was on hers. Finally, blessedly, on hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss by any means. It was demanding and passionate and heated, as Taylor bit down on her lip, using her hand in Brooke’s hair to tug and give Brooke the perfect amount of pain.

Jesus fucking christ, it was unreal. It was unreal how much she wanted Taylor. How well Taylor knew it by now. How Taylor could read her like a fucking book.

She couldn’t hold back the confused, disappointed sound that escaped her when Taylor’s kiss was suddenly taken away from her. Those soft lips gone from her own, and she blinked heavy lids open…

Just in time to see Taylor slide to her knees, and Brooke’s breath trembled out of her, before catching in her throat.

She didn’t need Taylor to say anything; her intent was written clearly over her face.

Even before Taylor maneuvered to tuck herself under the large, heavy table, and yanked Brooke’s chair to face her.

“This is what you wished you could have had, all meeting. Isn’t it? You were so distracted by wanting me. I bet you’ve completely soaked through your underwear by now,” Taylor’s voice was little more than a purr, as she scratched her fingers up the inside of Brooke’s thighs.

Up… up… until they brushed against her core. Right where Brooke knew Taylor’s assessment of how wet she was, was absolutely accurate.

She choked on a breath. Taylor dragged her hands back down, deliberately tugging Brooke’s legs apart.

“Taylor,” she weakly protested, but… that was all she could manage. Simply Taylor’s name. And, even to her own ears, it sounded just as much as a pleading sound as a protest.

Jesus. She closed her eyes against seeing Taylor staring up at her from between her thighs. Trying to hold onto all of her strength. Her rock-solid resolve. She’d spend decades building it; where was it right now?

They were in town hall. They were in the city council meeting! They… this was not right. This was not something Brooke would do.

“Brooke,” Taylor’s voice was steady and commanding. “Look at me.”

Brooke blinked down at her, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Do you want this?” Taylor asked, all semblance of teasing gone in this moment. Replaced by an urgent, genuine look. Even her roaming hands had paused, wrapped around Brooke’s thighs.

She stared up at Brooke, awaiting an answer.

Probably awaiting Brooke to say no. Because that was what the logical voice in the back of her mind was saying to her. That they should go home and do this there. And Brooke nearly always listened to her logical voice.

But when she opened her mouth, what came out was, “Yes. I want it.”

Because the part of her that loved and trusted and wanted Taylor had grown by leaps and bounds in the last few years. Taylor did not always align with the logical part of her, and she’d found – with alarming frequency – that Taylor seemed to always win out.

“Good. Me too.” Taylor’s voice was gleeful and low and Brooke couldn’t believe this was happening, but it was.

Taylor unzipped her slacks and tugged them down as Brooke lifted her hips in one swift motion, taking her underwear with them.

“You’re not the only one that was thinking about this,” Taylor’s tone was so raspy, so low, exactly as she always sounded during sex. When she was wet and wanting.

She slid her fingers up the inside of Brooke’s bare thighs, and she shivered following Taylor’s hot touch.

“No?” Brooke questioned, and the idea that Taylor was thinking about this the same way she was made her aching need even more intense.

She moved to instinctively squeeze her thighs together, but was stopped by Taylor’s firm grip.

Brooke fell back against her chair, staring down at Taylor as if in a daze.

Taylor, who slid her hands down, using one to grip Brooke’s knee and urge it over her shoulder, and the other to dip two of her fingertips into Brooke. Not fully entering inside of her, just… touching.

She was already panting, clenching around nothing.

“You love this,” Taylor rasped against her. She placed hot, open-mouthed kisses up Brooke’s thigh, and she jerked in response.

“Right here, in this room. Where you’re in charge. Even when I’m here, as the mayor. Even when I’m doing the talking. You’re in charge.” Taylor groaned with the words, before she bit into Brooke’s thigh, right next to where she was so open and needy.

Brooke’s groan escaped her, and turned into a long, low moan as Taylor’s fingers slid inside of her. Her long fingers, buried deep inside, curling as Taylor claimed her place inside of Brooke’s body.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Fuck,” Brooke breathed, squeezing her eyes closed.

Her hips rolled against Taylor’s fingers as they started slowly thrusting in and out, and when she felt Taylor’s hot, wet tongue against her clit, she cried out, unable to stop herself.

Brooke slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes flying open as she stared down at Taylor.

God, she could feel the little sounds Taylor made as she wrapped her lips around Brooke’s clit, her fingers hitting the perfect spot inside of her.

Everything inside of Brooke felt like it was on fire, the coiling inside of her pulling tighter and tighter, as Taylor slowed her thrusts. Pushing in hard, slow, and deep, as her tongue circled Brooke’s clit. Her thigh started to shake, and she gripped Taylor’s hair hard in her hand, the edge of the table with her other and –

“Taylor,” her wife’s name left her on a long, strangled moan as she came.

God. God.

Her orgasm seemed to last forever, as Taylor’s tongue continued to slowly work her through it, her fingers pulsing inside of Brooke, as her hips jerked against her mouth.

Brooke tried to catch her breath as she started to come down –

Only for her breath to catch entirely in her throat when the door at the other end of the room opened.

Brooke’s eyes widened, her stomach lurching as Anna-Lynne hurried back into the room. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor, her face pulled into a frown even before she looked up from where she’d been looking down in her purse.

Her eyes landed on Brooke as her hurried footsteps came to a pause, a small, surprised smile landing on her face. “Oh! Brooke. I didn’t realize you’d still be here?”

Taylor slid her mouth off of Brooke, finally becoming aware of the situation playing out above the table. Only, the sensation made Brooke shiver and her breath catch, her heart leaping in her chest in mortified terror.

Anna-Lynne took another step closer to the table, peering closely at Brooke through narrowed eyes. “Are you all right? You seem… feverish?”

“Oh,” Brooke breathed out, feeling how tremulous her breathing still was. Which, she supposed, was to be expected after coming so fucking hard.

But it was less than ideal when she was being studied by one of the fucking members of the city council!

“I’m fine. Just – stressed. Lots to do, still.” She gestured at the notebook that she – thankfully – still had laying out on the table when she was able to pry her hand away from where she’d been gripping the table so hard, she’d been sure her hand would bite into the wood.

She flicked her eyes down; it didn’t.

Looking down was a huge mistake, it seemed, as she locked eyes with Taylor. Whose lips and chin glistened, her smile wide and undeniably amused as she stared up at Brooke.

Feeling herself blush all over again, Brooke pointedly cleared her throat and flexed the hand she still had wrapped in Taylor’s hair.

“What – uh – what are you doing back here?” She asked, lifting her eyebrows at Anna-Lynne. She hoped getting the woman back on track would lead to her leaving as quickly as she’d returned.

She reached out to grab her pen, just to have something to do with her now free hand, lest she slap it against the table or something the next time Taylor did something.

“Ah, my phone!” Anna-Lynne shook her head, jokingly tapping her palm against her temple. “I was halfway home before I realized I don’t have my phone.”

She started walking toward the table again, and everything inside of Brooke froze. Please, please, for the love of Brooke’s sanity, do not let her realize what was going on in here.

It seemed as if some deity heard Brooke’s thoughts, as Anna-Lynne paused next to her seat at the other end of the table – she sat to Taylor’s immediate left – and grinned, picking her phone up off of her chair and triumphantly showing it to Brooke.

“God, what a relief! I so hoped it would be here, because otherwise… I don’t even know where I could have left it,” Anna-Lynne said with a relieved laugh, jokingly wiping a sweat from her brow.

Brooke’s laugh was entirely fake and forced, but what else was she supposed to do, when Taylor’s fingers were still inside of her and she could still feel herself pulsing around them every few seconds?!

“I can’t believe you managed to talk Taylor into leaving without you,” Anna-Lynne commented, gesturing to Taylor’s empty chair, shaking her head. “I guess you are always the last to leave, even when your wife is here.”

She could literally feel Taylor’s smile, as Taylor pressed her mouth against Brooke’s thigh. Then she nipped her teeth into her, and Brooke jerked, the pleasure and sensitivity inside of her, mingling with the fear of discovery.

“Yeah! Um, yeah.”

It took everything she had to stay still as a statue, the only movement she made was the clenching of her fist tighter in Taylor’s hair, trying to communicate stop, or I will die.

Anna-Lynne looked up at her once more as she placed her phone in her purse, eyebrows lifted in concern. “Are you sure you’re all right, Brooke?”

“Yep,” she grunted out, trying desperately to control her breathing as Taylor slowly dragged her fingers out of her.

Which was a good thing – to not have Taylor’s fingers buried inside of her when talking to another person – but also a terrible thing, because the last thing Brooke wanted to experience was Taylor’s fingers moving, even if the move was sliding out of her, while another human was in the room.

She gripped her pen so tightly, she might break it.

“Just – got a lot to do still. That’s all. Glad you found your phone,” her response was gruff, but Brooke supposed it was her saving grace that she’d always had somewhat of a gruff exterior.

“Me, too,” Anna-Lynne agreed, readjusting her bag over her shoulder. She offered Brooke a wave. “Well, I’ll see you around. Don’t stay too late!”

“Bye,” Brooke managed to call out, watching intently as Anna-Lynne strode to the door, and then continuing to keep her eyes trained there for several seconds after it was shut behind her.

When she was reasonably certain they wouldn’t be discovered, Brooke’s entire body relaxed. The orgasm mixed with the insane relief that they’d gotten away with that had her melting into the chair.

She looked down at Taylor who was still grinning brightly up at her, eyes gleaming mischievously. And she tried to summon some sort of irritation or blame or something… but she couldn’t.

She’d wanted it as much as Taylor had. “You’re a terrible influence on me.”

And that was the truth. Because she’d have never done anything like that if it hadn’t been Taylor.

“I’m the worst.” Taylor pushed against Brooke’s chair a bit so she could climb out.

“But you love it,” Taylor added on, as she swooped down to press a kiss to Brooke’s lips, letting her taste herself. Taylor hummed softly against her before she pulled back. She reached out and took Brooke’s hands in her own, pulling her to stand up.

“Much to my own detriment, I do,” she grumbled, and it still was baffling and amazing to her how true that was.

As she zipped and buttoned her pants, she blew out a breath and looked around. “We just had sex at city hall.”

“Well, we’ve had sex in your office before,” Taylor pointed out, cheekily.

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Not the same thing!”

“Don’t worry.” Taylor reached out and wrapped her arms around Brooke’s waist, pulling her close. “I brought disinfectant and some cleaning supplies and stashed them in your office when I came to visit you the other day. And I had Ernesto set the cameras for this office to shut off on a timer, promptly at six. Gave him a little suggestion for the best timing for electronic updates this month.”

Brooke pulled back, her mouth falling open in shock. “You planned this?”

“What can I say? You’ve really rubbed off on me, too.”

Brooke didn’t think she’d ever been more in love.

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spoiler protection

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