Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2)
Page 11
Fuuuuuck…
He knows damn well what he’s doing to me, how he’s got me squirming and wanting him.
This is nothing like I thought my first time would be, and so much better than I ever could have hoped.
He starts biting me—my pecs, my neck—sucking to leave dark marks on me.
Possessively staking his claim on me.
A few strokes, a mark, repeat.
“Every time you look in the mirror, boy, I want you to see Me on you.”
Jesus wept, the man is sin on a stick and dialed in to the center of my nervous system.
Eventually, he starts thrusting harder, faster, every stroke brushing against my P-spot and nearly sending me over the edge.
“If you can come, boy, do it.”
Oh, thank christ! I explode almost immediately, and that apparently trips Leo over the edge, too. With the temptest now calmed, he lets me wrap my arms and legs around him as he tenderly kisses me, nuzzling, both of us silent and looking into each other’s eyes as we’re coming down from our orgasmic high.
Well, that happened.
And I’m still sporting a chub, which is…rare. That was hella better than jerking my own goddamned cock or fucking a toy.
Or fucking myself with a toy.
Leo’s not exactly soft inside me, either, and that’s when I get creative. I start working his cock with my ass, and suddenly, Leo’s all in again. He grabs my cock and strokes me while he fucks me.
The look on his face tells me this isn’t normal for him, either. He’s as into me and this as I am.
Maybe more.
Something akin to wonder, mixed with determination, tenses his jaw as he strokes me to completion and adds to the sticky mess between our bodies before he spills inside me again, and I know.
I’m not the only one who just got claimed.
Leo’s mine.
Like hell am I walking away from him without a goddamned fight.
* * * *
We make it to the shower, kissing and exploring the entire time. There’s a blatant hunger to Leo’s every touch, his loneliness palpable.
How could his “partner” love him and yet let him remain this lonely?
That’s not love—that’s possession. It’s cruelty.
He pauses, staring into my eyes. “You have to be okay sharing me. And you can’t be with anyone except me. Not to be an asshole, but we can’t risk it for a lot of reasons.”
Victory spikes my pulse again—I don’t want to be with anyone but him. “Yes, Sir. I’m okay with that.” I take a chance and whisper, “It’s Elliot, isn’t it?”
His non-answer confirms it. “You signed an NDA.”
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
“I cannot confirm anything yet. There are a lot of secrets for you to keep if you stay with me. I’ll always protect you. But if you burn me, or anyone else involved in this administration, I can and will ruin you and your reputation, for life. I’ll never threaten you to keep you with me. I have no interest in that. You are always free to leave, because I have zero interest in forcing you to stay. But trust has to be earned, just like I expect to have to work to earn and keep your trust. Show me you mean what you say. Let me trust you by your actions.”
“I keep my word, Sir. No one will ever find out from me, I swear. I know words are worthless, but I’ll prove it to you, that you can trust me.”
More kissing and tasting and teasing, some washing, and then I end up shoved against the shower wall with Leo on his knees in front of me.
Holy…fuuuuck!
Okay, for the record, a blowjob will silence every other thought in my head.
Good to know.
I didn’t realize just how fucking good that felt, and I can’t wait to reciprocate.
Except he slides a finger up my ass and gets me over and once my orgasm’s finished, my knees literally unhinge as I slide down the wall to collapse in front of him.
I’m finally, officially empty.
We end up in his bed, snuggling and falling asleep, when he asks one final question.
“Just out of curiosity, why do you think it’s Elliot?”
Well, he’s asking—and he’s just confirmed I was right. “You’re gay. That eliminates the president-elect. I think if someone so much as breathes too close to Kev that Mr. Bruunt would rip their nose off. The president-elect might, too. And Kev seems totally into the two of them.” I yawn. “Mostly, it was the head tips.”
I feel his body tense. “Head tips?”
“Yeah.” I snuggle closer, trying to relax him, because even though I’m nearly asleep I can feel he’s stressing about this. “I’m used to watching people closely. Survival skill when I was a kid. Plus for my artwork. The two of you have head tips you do with each other that you don’t do with anyone else. Like a code. No one else sees it, though. I mean, I haven’t seen anyone else look like they’re watching you that closely. Maybe Secret Service but I doubt even they noticed.” Another yawn. “It’s okay, Sir. I think he’s hot, too.”
He massages the top of my head even as he leans in for a kiss. “Never say anything to him about noticing that. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir.” It feels perfect calling him that.
Sir.
My Sir.
If Elliot wants Leo, he’s going to have to fucking fight me for him. Yes, I’ll share him, because I know Leo loves Elliot. But dammit, doesn’t Leo deserve a chance to be happy?
Don’t I?
Elliot can live in fear if he wants, but there’s no reason Leo and I should have to suffer because of it.
We fall asleep. When I awaken sometime in the middle of the night because I heard—
gunshots
—a noise outside, I realize Leo’s awake, too. I roll on top of him and we make love again, less frantic this time. Slower, sweeter. He lets me set the pace and asks me to come for him.
Don’t mind if I do.
There’s more than one way to make yourself orgasm, you know. I happen to love P-spot toys and making myself come that way. Leo’s cock is perfect, and it doesn’t take me long to get the job done, either. He waits until I’m there to grab me and get his own, and then we’re kissing again.
He rolls on top of me, staring down at me like a man just awakened from a dream, or maybe rescued from a nightmare.
A man who looks like he’s found his answer to life, the universe, and everything.
God, I want that to be me.
“What, Sir?”
“It’s not a contest.”
Fucking hell, it’s not. “I know, Sir.” I reach up and play with his hair.
“Are you trying to stake your territory, boy?”
I smile. “Maaaaybe.”
He leans in and nuzzles my nose. “Consider me staked.”
Haha, motherfucker. Take that.
We clean up again and return to bed. We can sleep late in the morning, miracle of miracles, and as Leo drops off to sleep, I lie there with my ear pressed against his chest and listen to the sound of him breathing.
My ass is aching in that pleasant way that sort of feels like when I’ve reamed myself out good with toys. Which I didn’t get to do often enough when sharing a room with fricking David. The only time I could ensure I had enough privacy to really let go was if he went home for the weekend. Otherwise, I was usually restricted to beating off in the shower.
Having a hotel room to myself has been heavenly.
But now?
Yeah, fuck that. Not going back to Florida. What’s there for me?
I mean, besides a job, and finishing my degree, and…
What else, though? Really?
Leo wants me. I want Leo.
I could get a job here making more than I am now. I don’t need a master’s degree to work in Washington.
If Elliot hasn’t nutted up in six years, and now the eyes of the world will lie even more heavily upon him, why does Leo honestly think Elliot’s going to change now?
I hate to be the bearer of bad
news, but Elliot’s not. If he was going to change, it would’ve happened years ago.
Like I’m stupid enough to point that out to Leo.
Yeah, no.
What I am going to do is live my life to the fullest and show Leo why I’m his forever guy. His ride-or-die. I know there will be a lot of discussions ahead for us. I’m willing to take a leap of faith and do this if Leo is.
And when Elliot eventually breaks Leo’s heart, I will be the man standing there waiting to pick up the pieces for Leo and show him what true love looks like.
I know—that’s cunning and diabolical, right?
But I’d do anything for Leo. All I have to do is wait for him to see that for himself and realize I’m the guy he’s needed all along.
Chapter Twelve
Leo speaks with Elliot on Monday and then asks me to move in with him on a trial basis. He helps me move all my things to his apartment and we agree that I’ll keep my hotel room, because it’s already paid for by the campaign. That way, if we realize this isn’t working out, I can always return to the hotel.
No pressure, right?
Except…this is working out.
In a scary-good kind of way.
He even holds me when I wake up crying from nightmares where we didn’t get away from the club in time, and the shooter made their way inside, where we were hiding. He never makes fun of my tears.
It feels weirdly good having this man as my guardian angel.
The next several weeks pass in a whirlwind, and I mean that as close to literally as I can get without invoking actual tornadoes.
Life is fricking crazy.
Not just because of work, but because every spare second Leo and I have together where we’re not sleeping is usually spent naked and fucking. Forget being a thirsty bitch—it’s like we’re both starving and just discovered a free 24/7/365 all-you-can-eat buffet.
Seriously.
I don’t even mind him spending time with Elliot, which isn’t much time. Because I have three modes right now: work, fuck, and sleep.
Don’t know how I’ll feel once the inauguration is behind me, but I’ll cross that bridge and all that bullshit. I don’t have time for petty jealousy.
Okay, that’s not…entirely true.
Elliot—as I think of him in my mind, even though I’d never dream of calling him that to his face in front of others—and I have been engaged in a silent, secret tug-of-war for Leo’s soul. We end up leaving love bites somewhere on Leo, a call-and-response that seems to amuse our shared owner. Elliot frequently bites him on the arm, because they don’t have time or privacy to get fully naked very often.
Neon green jealousy always rolls through me when I find a mark somewhere I know meant Leo was undressed enough to likely be having sex with Elliot.
Like at the base of Leo’s cock, or inside his thigh, or on his pec.
Or finding scratch marks on Leo’s back, or ass.
I don’t like to ask Leo if he’s going to see Elliot, or if he’s been with him, although I know I can ask and he won’t lie about it. Sometimes, I prefer to pretend Elliot exists in a vacuum and is apart from what Leo and I share.
It’s not that I’m jealous of Elliot. Not totally. On the contrary, if it was the two of us together with Leo, I’d think that was hot.
Really hot. I mean, come on, Elliot’s damned hot.
Honestly? I’ve admitted to Leo that the fantasy of being pinned between the two of them, helpless and at their mercy, and being used as a fucktoy by them, would be a dream come true if we could ever make it happen.
Absofuckinglutely, I’d love that.
The jealousy part, from my end, is more because Elliot seems to have zero interest in making that happen. Zero interest in…me. A rejection I’m trying not to take personally, because I understand that I’m the newcomer to this, and don’t have a right to elbow Elliot out of the way. The only reason I can have a relationship with Leo is because Elliot allows it.
I’m under no illusions that if Elliot tells Leo no, he can’t do this with me, that Leo would sadly bid me good-bye. Rightfully, Leo’s not interested in ordering Elliot to be with me in bed. Also, to be fair, I remind myself that Elliot’s under a lot of stress and pressure right now, and I’m glad that getting laid isn’t the man’s first priority. Because he’s trying to wrap up things for the House, and he’s stepping into the second most important office in our country.
Soo… priorities.
Leo says that once the inauguration’s over, then he’s going to schedule private time for the three of us and start easing Elliot into the new world order.
I’ll be patient. I have no choice but to be patient.
Leo and I haven’t said “I love you” to each other, either, even though that’s how I feel and I’m reasonably sure that’s what Leo feels for me.
Again, the whole patience thing. I’ll wait until he says it first. I don’t want to rush things just to have it blow up in my face.
Sure, things developed quickly between us, but when we started this, Leo could’ve just fucked me and made no future plans with me. He could’ve lied to me and said he was single and unattached.
The transparency Leo’s shown throughout our courtship tells me this is the right path for me.
Mimi always told me to trust my gut instincts, good and bad.
Everything in my gut screams that Leo’s my forever man, and like hell will I rush things along.
Christopher Bruunt offers me a job in the East Wing, and it takes everything I have not to embarrass myself by doing a silly victory dance during our discussion. Somehow, I manage to maintain my composure and gracefully accept the offer.
Later, when I’m alone with Leo, I let out a whoop and jump into his arms as he laughs and kisses me. I know he talked to Mr. Bruunt on my behalf, but I will work my ass off and prove I deserve to have the job. I’ll be a deputy assistant to his chief of staff. My job duties will include helping plan events, making decorating decisions for things like floral arrangements and holiday themes, and social media work.
I mean…this is totally my jam. I’m literally going to be using my skills and training.
In the fricking White House!
I think Mimi would be okay with me putting my master’s degree on hold for this.
She probably would have grabbed me and shook sense into me if I’d turned it down.
Meanwhile, I’m working closely with the Chief Usher and his office to finalize the plans for Inauguration Day. He’s been great and assures me I haven’t dropped any balls, even though my nerves feel frayed.
At least I have Leo’s solid strength to ground and calm me most nights. The thought of Elliot being alone every night is the strongest anchor I have to hold on to empathy for the man and remind myself that I’m the lucky one.
If I’m struggling with my nerves right now, I can only imagine what Elliot’s going through as he closes in on taking the oath of office before the entire world.
When I awaken Christmas morning—at least we get to sleep in until eight—I find Leo smiling down at me.
“Good morning, baby.” He kisses me, driving all other thoughts out of my head.
“Good morning, Sir.”
We’re not exchanging gifts this year. Hell, it was all I could do to find time to put up a little two-foot tree in the middle of the dining room table. It was a pre-made kit, with lights and ornaments and everything included.
But I didn’t want to not have a tree this year. Mimi and I used to decorate the entire house for every holiday. I still have all our ornaments and lights and everything in the storage unit. They are precious memories I’ll treasure.
Next year, I’ll have them for our apartment, and can really get into the spirit.
This year, we’re so busy that if I didn’t have a calendar on my phone, I wouldn’t remember what the hell day it is.
“Merry Christmas.”
I snuggle closer. “Merry Christmas, Sir.” I close my eyes, but then I feel him nudge me
with something. I open my eyes again to realize he’s holding a small present in his hand.
“What’s that?”
“I got you a little something.”
Guilt fills me. “I thought we weren’t doing presents? I didn’t get you anything.”
“I know. This isn’t just a Christmas present, though. Open it.”
I sit up and take it from him. It’s light, and I’d be lying if I denied I was a little underwhelmed when I realize it’s a necktie. It’s a gorgeous jewel-tone blue with thin, pale green and ruby stripes. It’s an adult-looking tie. Responsible.
I’m struggling to understand why he’d get me a necktie…
Until the meaning slams into me and takes my breath away.
I look at him. “Matchies?” It’s something he and Elliot have—matching neckties.
His grin is that of a teenager, not a man twice my age. “Matchies, baby.” He kisses me. “Tomorrow, you can wear that to work, and I’ll wear mine.” His smile fades. “I got you another one, too, so all three of us have a matching set. But this one, it’s just you and me sharing this one.”
I blink away the sudden prickle of tears. Maybe this sounds stupid to the casual observer, but that Leo would get me something like this, a way to anchor me to him, means the world to me.
It means I mean something to him.
That he’s here for the long-haul.
“Thank you, Sir.”
He nuzzles my nose. “I want you to understand how serious I am about you. That I’m not going anywhere. The next four years will be hectic, and so will the next four after that, if she’s re-elected. I can’t promise you what comes next, except that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and want you to be here, too.”
I drape the tie around my neck and wrap my arms around him. Under his tutelage, I’ve become an expert at tying my necktie. Except if we’re together in the morning, he likes to do it for me. He loves dressing me, period.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sir.”
Peace eases the lines around his eyes. “That’s music to my ears, baby.”
When we finally make it out of bed, I head for the kitchen to start our coffee. Then I spot something under the little Christmas tree. It wasn’t there when I went to bed.