Roxanne

By Just Bae

Roxanne is a powerhouse in the UK political scene, having grown up in a small rural town before working her way up the ladder to a respected role as a Member of Parliament. As she navigates her way through the political landscape, she must face the challenges that come with being a woman in a traditionally male-dominated field. From Roxanne's career as a politician to her passionate romance with her husband to her amazing skills as a mother and wife, Roxanne is a force to be reckoned with. 

Her husband Alan, in turn, must navigate the tricky waters of loving and supporting such an impressive woman. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Just Bae
• Release date: Jan 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215786024

Just Bae

"The master of writing thirst traps and adventures of seduction."Rate my books on Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18068168.Just_BaeListen to my audiobooks on Audible:https://www.audible.com/author/Just-Bae/B07DDJZBWW

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Roxanne’s phone buzzes and chimes with her alarm. Alan awaits its first buzz. He inhales, catching and drawing out a snort as he opens his eyes and tries to roll toward Roxanne’s bedside. 

She clings to his back, preventing him from turning and reaching over to silence the blaring sound. Her exhale comes out more like a huff, warm on his bare skin, so he knows she’s conscious and fighting it. 

His wife leaves the alarm to blare for another drawn-out moment before she whimpers into his back and lets go of him to roll over to her other side, reaching to finally, finally stop the alarm. 

She doesn’t move to get up though, which is odd. Roxanne may hate an early wake-up call, but she loves her job more, and on any given day she forces herself to sit up, kick off the blankets with petulance to rival their daughter during a temper tantrum, and huff as she slips her bare feet into her slippers, before padding into their en suite to get ready. 

Today she just sighs and stays lying down, her head firmly on her pillow, blinking at the ceiling. The blanket remains tucked up under her arms, her body completely still. It makes Alan sad for reasons he can’t articulate. 

He shuffles towards Roxanne, and she doesn’t protest when he nudges her onto her side so that he can spoon her, wrapping his arm across her waist and stomach, his hand slipping under her camisole to feel her warm flesh, pressing a line of kisses from under her ear down to her shoulder, before tucking his nose into the crook of her neck, slipping his leg between hers. He doesn’t let any space remain between his chest and her back, hoping to transfer some of his warmth to her. Good morning, Alan rasps, his lips peppering warm kisses under her ear, breathing her in. 

Roxanne brings her shoulder up, tickled, then removes one of her hands tucked under her cheek to stroke his hand laying on her belly. 

Good morning, she rasps back, tipping her head back to knock against Alan’s forehead, and oddly enough, this is when he feels closest to her–when he can feel the husk of her voice vibrate in his chest because it so still and quiet, just them, in the gentle haze of the early morning light, pressed as close together as humanly possible, everyone else still asleep, expecting nothing from them. 

It never lasts as long as he wants it to. 

You’re not going to work today? 

Roxanne sighs, shifting, and Alan loosens his hold on her so she can turn to face him. 

The sun has already risen and the light streams past their curtains. He can make out her face, her eyes trained on his chest, a furrow between her brows, jaw tense, her fingers tracing his collarbones. 

Alan drags his fingers up and down the dip of her spine, waiting. 

I don’t want to filibuster again, Roxanne says, frowning. It’s pointless. Everyone knows how this is going to end. 

Alan hugs his wife tightly, pressing his lips on her forehead. Roxanne burrows her face into him and sighs. He knows she doesn’t mean it–there’s always a point to the things she does. It's just her exhaustion talking. 

On Monday, the Minister of Natural Resources moved an urgency motion for the Bill to expand pipelines, and Roxanne’s been in the House from nine in the morning till midnight every day since then. She came home that first night fired up with the adrenaline of a fight, the whiteboard in her office crammed with her plans for undermining the Government at the local level when the Bill inevitably passes. 

But it’s already been a long month of extended sittings and too little sleep. 

Alan’s been waiting for this low to appear. They’re all just holding on at this point, going through the motions, waiting for this long summer to end. Roxanne had proposed a long weekend at the end of August at their favorite retreat before Parliament dissolves and she’s buried under campaign things. He hopes Amanda doesn’t call an early election after this pipeline business is over. 

I think you’ve been doing a pretty good job, Alan pats Roxanne’s butt, and she gasps. I read that the local communities appreciate what you guys are doing and it’s giving them hope that maybe their opposition to the expansions will come across to the Government. 

False hope, Roxanne grumbles. 

Hope is hope. And everyone knows the Coalition is only pushing it for leverage in the upcoming election. They’re getting their golf buddies to vote for them, sure, but you’re going to get the people to vote for you because they know your values, Alan nuzzles his nose with hers. 

That isn’t exactly true. 

The press coverage for Roxanne’s party hasn’t entirely been positive. Some variation of ‘$288 million loss every day of delay’ is the headline every day, and Roxanne’s been getting mocked by the press for how much she brings up the catastrophic future for our children if the Bill passes–which irks the both of them since it was only a few months ago that the press was putting her on the front page, praising her for her opinions about children--and now it’s part of her portfolio to address the rights of children. Sometimes it feels like all the major newspapers have been bought out by the Prime Minister. He wouldn’t put it past the Coalition. 

But Laura’s playgroup parents and the ladies at the library like to tell him they’re impressed with his wife’s ethics, so Alan thinks her party’s doing a good job with what they have. What’s a little white lie?

Roxanne scoffs though, rubbing her face. Nobody cares about values when someone waves billions of dollars in your face. I’m going to be out of a job come October and we won’t qualify for any benefits, so I hope you’re ready to sell your coaching services to the highest bidders even if they’re the shittiest teams you’ve ever seen because otherwise, we won’t be able to pay the mortgage on either house. Our baby will be traumatized from having to live in a car. Roxanne groaned into Alan’s chest. 

He didn't think it was this bad. 

Roxanne had come home last night around quarter to one. She’d checked on Alan and their baby Laura, before disappearing into her office for another half an hour, which was when he’d gotten tired of sleeping alone and marched over to her office and closed her notebooks, switched off her desk lamp, and then dragged her to bed while she complained about preparing for tomorrow. 

It wasn’t unusual for Roxanne to get that way when stressed, hungry, and sleep-deprived, so Alan had let it go and just argued back about needing sleep until she gave in. 

Roxanne had changed into her pajamas and slipped into bed, tossing and turning until she was ready to let him hug her back. Alan hummed Laura’s lullaby, and she’d laughed a short laugh and turned to kiss his cheek. He’d grinned half asleep thinking he’d fixed the problem. Clearly, he hasn't. 

 Roxanne, Alan pulls her hair back, love, he tugs at the ends gently to get her to look up at him. "The fate of the entire party isn't on you. Thomas fucked up the last election and that's why you don’t have the numbers you need for this Bill. Roxanne shakes her head but Alan pats her thigh, You just need to win London, and you've worked hard to make that a safe seat. It's going to be okay, I promise. Laura can still go to a private kindergarten and have a roof over her head," Alan grins, his fingers pinching Roxanne’s hip. 

Her eyebrows pinch together. You can't just say that.

Yes I can, I just did.

That doesn't make it true. Her eyes search his. I was meant to get Agnes and Todd to cross the floor, Roxanne lowers her voice, but I couldn't do it.

Oh, that's probably why Roxanne was in a mood last night–beyond just the Bill having progressed to its second reading by the time he turned off the TV at eleven to go to bed. Alan presses his forehead to hers, taking a deep breath. They run a tight ship. That was an impossible mission, to begin with. He tucks a lock of hair behind Roxanne’s ear, but still, she frowns. Was anyone else assigned to get people to turn? 

Everyone was.

Alan arches his eyebrow. I haven't heard of anyone from the Government changing sides, so everyone in the party is in the same boat as you.

But Agnes and Todd lead their factions within the Coalition. If I'd gotten them to come over, everyone else we talked to would have followed.

Alan shakes his head, soothing his fingers along her back, No one's going to want to look like a traitor with a hundred-something billion dollars on the line so close to the election.

I should have managed it, Roxanne shakes her head, ignoring him, I've done it before. I've already lost my touch, and it's only been one term. She covers her eyes with her hands, digging her heels into her sockets. Alan has to tug on her wrists. Roxanne huffs, I’m out of touch. They could replace me with a new poli sci grad and no one would be able to tell the difference because we’d be equally inadequate! 

Alan clicks his tongue and slaps her butt. 

Roxanne jumps and slips her hand under his boxers to pinch his. What the? she grumbles.

Alan scrunches his nose as if he'd sniffed something bad. He really does hate politics. 

He can understand the desire to want to do something about all the things that are wrong in the world, but he doesn’t always understand how Roxanne can love it when it leaves her frustrated and upset more often than not–which in turn makes him frustrated and upset with everyone and everything because he has to watch his wife’s agony and not be able to do anything to make it easier for her. 

All that and for what? Nothing ever changes. 

Roxanne likes to say that little changes are worth the effort. That dirty feeling of compromising with the enemy just to achieve something, anything, to make life a little less terrible for someone needs to be done. And maybe his life would be so much simpler, a lot more peaceful if Alan didn’t have so much faith in her. But he does. So here they are, twenty-three minutes past six in the morning, rallying to restore faith in herself despite the shadow of impending defeat.

Alan rolls her onto Roxanne’s back, slotting himself between her legs, and pinning her hands on either side of her head. Stop being mean to yourself.

I'm a realist.

Alan knocks his forehead with Roxanne’s, leveling her with a determined look. You, he says, pressing a bruising kiss on her mouth, are doing– a kiss on her chin, a really– a kiss to her cheek, really– a loud, smacking kiss to her other cheek, good– an obnoxiously kiss to her eyelid that makes her shriek, job. He kisses her nose, then lets go of her hands now that Roxanne’s smiling. She settles them on his waist, dancing her fingers along Alan’s sides. He has to wiggle and shake her off. 

Alan then ducks his head and starts nuzzling Roxanne’s neck, a dozen kisses on the column of her throat, Say something nice about yourself, he tells her, his fingers tickling her sides. 

Roxanne flails around, laughing and batting her hands on his biceps until he starts tickling