Needless to say, I haven’t been with anyone since leaving Leo, and Elliot’s not the only one starved for affection. “I’ll talk to Kev about making sure me living with you now and in the White House is done above-board, so I’m paying my way and we don’t violate any ethics rules.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” His grip on me tightens a little and I rub his head again. He’s a gorgeous man with a body to kill for, scars or not. I’ve seen pictures of him while he was in the service, and maybe he’s not as tight as he was then, but he’s damn sure in better shape than I am.
“I might need to go out on a few dates, you know. Public dates, so people think I’m straight. Will probably need to arrange some for you, too.” Ironically, Leo can’t live in the White House with Shae and Chris without it creating rumors. Kev’s situation with them was different, and they had the weight of public opinion already swinging heavily in their favor even before he was shot.
The world saw Kev as a grieving friend and ex-husband when Lauren was murdered. Then he nearly died in what he thought was an attempt on Chris’ life, and threw himself in front of a bullet he thought was meant for Chris—the first spouse.
At this point, Kev could walk naked down the National Mall while jerking off, and people would probably laugh it off.
Elliot’s eyes open and he looks at me. “I don’t think I like that, even though I know you’re right. Especially about someone dating you.”
I ruffle his hair again. “Don’t have to like it. It’s what needs to be done, though. We don’t want anyone clocking us. Unless that’s what you want to happen now.”
He sighs. “I know, Sir,” he mutters.
Ah, my boy’s first mouthiness with me.
Still, he is a good boy and will do what I tell him to.
Can’t deny I like that he’s territorial. Ironic that he’s now territorial over me the way he was over Leo.
Except I understand optics, especially with the past six months to ruminate on the events of the last six years. I know had I simply asked Leo to, he likely would have fought for me to stay, and fought damned hard. But Leo has no interest in an unwilling partner and I really gave him no choice. To have Leo, I have to own what I want, and I knew it then the same way I know it now.
The damaged and emotional teenaged boy residing inside my skin, who’s never far from the surface of my soul and who always fears rejection, still wishes Leo had stepped up, unasked, and fought for me the way Mimi fought for me.
Wishes that Leo had smothered me after I left, never left me alone for a moment, wore me down until I gave in and returned, or never allowed me to leave him in the first place.
That part of me shivers in pleasure at Elliot’s territorial grumbling now.
That part of me is also, after the fact, extremely pleased Elliot sent Secret Service agents after me, at work, and basically ordered me to come to him.
Staking his claim on me in a very public fashion.
My boy or not, that’s fucking sexy as hell.
I know I was pissed off when I thought it was Leo summoning me, but who the hell am I kidding? Had Leo been here when I arrived…
I would have thrown myself at him, wrapped myself around him, and never let him go.
Like I said, there’s a way I can get a few of the things I need through this arrangement, too.
Having the leader of the free world able to send armed agents after me at his whim is one of those…things.
I mean, it’s not exactly what I need, duh. But Elliot’s determination to have me.
The need and desire to have me.
The need for me.
Everyone loves to feel wanted.
That pushes some of my buttons.
Okay, a lot of my buttons.
Yes, I’m fully aware that’s a conversation I should have with Leo at some future date.
If we end up…I don’t know.
Reconciling, maybe?
Hopefully. The word I’m looking for is hopefully.
Because I’m hoping I’ll end up reconciling with Leo.
Except he hasn’t reached out to me in months. I know he said he’d give me the space I told him I needed, but…
Sigh.
I’m still fully dressed—including my blazer—because I learned a lot from Leo during my time with him. Like understanding the psychological impact of stripping Elliot and cuddling with him while I’m clothed.
It’s both a power thing and a comfort thing. The tangible symbol of me being in charge means Elliot is free to let go and trust me. Gives him the brief mental vacation he desperately needs right now.
Some of the hottest times Leo and I had together were me riding him when he was still dressed, and I was butt-naked. Very sexy knowing what I was doing to him, that I could drive him so close to the edge of losing his composure and control.
I have to be Elliot’s safe space. I have to be the one person he knows he can let go with. The person he can absolutely lean on without fear of me bending or breaking.
I have to be the person he can count on to always have his back and be there for him.
It’s vital for his mental and emotional health, for his overall well-being.
It’s something that’s been neglected for too long.
Not deliberately.
At least, I hope not deliberately.
Another wave of anger rolls in and I shove it away once more. Don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep doing that until I’ll need to adress it.
But these two men don’t exactly pull weekend shifts at McDonald’s. They both have jobs where an entire country is relying on them, and the weight of their responsibilities weighs greatly upon them.
Not to mention Leo’s extremely careful.
And Elliot’s extremely scared.
Turning a little, I get Elliot more or less snuggled in my lap. Me being dressed give me somewhat of an emotional boost, too, because I don’t feel the four-inch height difference between us quite as much. I’m five-seven to Elliot’s six-one.
My left hand lays splayed across his chest, where he wraps his fingers around me and holds on. With my right hand, I continue massaging his head.
I love the soft little noises he makes as I do that. Sitting there studying him, with his eyes closed and his head firmly pressed against my arm, I can almost let my imagination run away with me.
I can almost pretend I completely and truly own him.
The man who’s likely going to be our next president.
I can pretend Leo doesn’t fill his heart and soul every bit as much as Leo fills mine.
I can pretend there will be a fairy-tale happily ever after for the two of us.
There’s no doubt in my mind it’ll be virtually impossible for me not to become deeply emotionally attached to Elliot.
There’s also little doubt in my mind I’m probably looking at getting my heart broken at some future point, either by him or Leo, or maybe even both.
I am, however, a man of my word. Here I am, for as long as Elliot needs and wants me here.
Where I’ll be in the future is probably something best not contemplated, for now.
Chapter Eighteen
The flight from Tallahassee to Andrews will take approximately two hours, so we don’t have a lot of time. Still, I want to do something for Elliot.
Reward him.
Positive reinforcement, right?
It always worked on me.
Fisting Elliot’s hair in my right hand, I keep my voice low, just loud enough for him to hear me over the sound of the engines.
“Eyes open, boy.”
His lids flutter and expose those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks up at me, making my cock throb in response.
Staring down into his eyes, I realize how easy it would be for me to fall in love with him. He’s completely vulnerable right now. Maybe I’m Leo’s boy, but I can see why Leo fell hard for Elliot.
I’m an idiot, and I know it. I don’t get happy endings. Not really. Not in my life.
That’s a good sign, I suppose.
All the things I ever did with Leo roll through my head, now viewed through a different lens.
Owner, instead of owned.
Having this man under my hands is a powerful feeling, and one that I’ve missed. I felt powerful when with Leo, too, only in a different way. Not that I was in control of him, but that someone like Leo wanted someone like me in the first place. The hunger that always appeared in his gaze when he looked at me, the demanding way he took me.
That the usually perfectly controlled man was uncontrolled when it came to me.
I’ve missed that.
Under my fingers, his nipple tightly peaks. I take my time and love the way I feel him struggle not to take charge and shove my hand down his body toward his cock.
Which now lies fully hard against his abs and twitches a little with every brush of my fingers over his nipple.
Good to know he’s wired like that. I know this man, but I have a lot to learn about him.
Everything, actually. Because it’s literally my entire job now to know everything about Elliot.
Even things the public can never find out about.
Especially those things. Those are the things that will make or break whatever the hell this is. I mean, he’s not my boyfriend.
Is he?
He’s kind of my pet more than my boyfriend.
If he was my boyfriend, we’d go see movies, or go out to dinner. We could have dates and be seen together.
We could openly dance together at inaugural balls, and I could hold his hand and walk on stage with him at speeches.
There’s a world of things we could do.
Not possible now, and even less possible once he’s elected.
And I’m reasonably sure he’ll be elected. Which means the next ten years of my life will be spent in the shadows by design. I won’t be able to draw attention to myself. The bad kind of attention.
Successfully doing my job means deliberately not drawing the bad kind of attention to myself. No TV-worthy gossip, no news stories, and damn sure no scandals. Going on fake dates with a beard will be fine, because it means that most people won’t wonder if Elliot and I are secretly an item.
I continue playing with his left nipple, taking my time, grazing my nail over it while watching his reactions. My mouth waters a little when I see a drop of pre-cum pearling at the slit of his cock, but I don’t stop what I’m doing.
My boy needs to accept who’s in charge. Especially since he’s the one who asked me to do this in the first place.
His fingers flex around my arm, where’s he’s still gripping me. I lift my elbows a little. “Reach back, around me, and hold on. Keep your hands there or I’ll stop.”
He immediately complies. I love how he slides his hands up inside my blazer, his fingers hooking around my belt loops.
That’ll do. I gently roll his nipple between my index finger and thumb as his breathing grows quick and shallow. If the desperation building in his gaze is similar to looks I’m sure I used to wear when with Leo, then…yeah.
This is fucking addictive.
My mind spins out dozens of fantasies, all at the same time. Games I’ll play with him.
Tortures I’m sure we’ll both enjoy.
I had a great teacher, after all.
All of this while his blue eyes stare into mine and I realize that yes, I truly do own him.
At least I do in this particular moment.
The trick will be making sure he doesn’t regret this decision.
An unexpected wave of possessive energy washes through me. I tighten my grip in his hair. “You’re going to be my good boy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” he moans.
I pinch his nipple harder. “Going to do whatever I tell you to do for me?”
“Yes, Sir!”
I ease up a little, rolling his nipple again, smiling down at my horny, needy pet.
This is going to be fun.
Looky there. It seems I have a sadistic streak in me after all. Who’d a thunk?
At least I already know first-hand the most devious ways to achieve the desire results.
After a few minutes of that, I switch to teasing his right nipple in much the same way, until he’s squirming under my hands and there’s a large smear of pre-cum all over his belly from where his cock shifts with every movement.
Unfortunately, this is a bit of unintended self-sadism going well beyond masochism on my part, because my cock is aching again despite the damned good blowjob he gave me earlier.
Yes, the boy will be spending time on his knees for me every day for the foreseeable future, I guarandamntee you that.
Hey, not like he won’t enjoy it.
Trust me, I know.
Not saying I won’t be sucking his cock on occasion, either.
Why am I able to drop my inhibitions with him and I haven’t been laid in six months? Well, for starters, the answer is right there—I trust Elliot. I know he’s not been out fucking around, and I know if he’s been having sex with Leo that he’s clear. Leo would never put me or Elliot in harm’s way fucking around, either.
I mean, I hope he would never do that.
Sure, maybe by doing this it opens a door for me and Leo. I don’t know.
But if it doesn’t, and Elliot’s my life for the next ten years, I might as well settle in now, right?
Right.
I finally snake my hand lower along Elliot’s torso, lightly stroking his skin and in no hurry to make it to the promised land. He’s as starved for physical affection as I am.
Taking care of my boy, in all ways, will be the focus of my life. Including in this way, and right now.
Leaning in for a kiss, I don’t miss how his fingers dig in a little, seeking purchase, a tighter grip as he obviously wants more. I slant my lips over his and slowly devour him, mindful of where my hand is and gradually working my way south.
That’s why I nearly giggle from the way he sucks in a sharp breath when my fingers brush the head of his cock. This way, kissing him, I can swallow his moans, too. I ease up on the fist in his hair and instead cup the back of his head to keep my lips in contact with his.
With my other hand, I slowly wrap my fingers around his cock, sliding his foreskin back and my thumb lightly rubbing across the slit, smearing pre-cum all over him and my fingers.
Needy energy swirls around him, drawing me into his vortex. It’s easy to forget this man is second in line to running the country.
That there are armed Secret Service agents just outside the door. That we’re being ferried to our nation’s capital by a crew and an airplane assigned specifically to and designed for this purpose.
I’m sooo fucking this man over the Resolute desk after he’s elected POTUS.
Maybe, if Leo’s lucky and treats me right, I’ll let him go second.
In my hand, Elliot’s cock feels hard, silky, hot—and I love the desperation in his whines when I lift my lips from his and release his cock so I can bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them.
From the way his blue eyes look fully glazed as he watches me, I know I have him in the zone.
Excellent.
If I have to use tease and denial to get him there, that works to my advantage. A spanking won’t always be in the cards, depending on a situation’s logistics. Marks can also be problematic. Especially when I know Elliot loves having marks.
I mean, who doesn’t? I do. How many mornings did I smile as I stared in the mirror at Leo’s handprints on my ass or thighs? Never mind the times there were plenty more marks than that.
Too many times.
I loved wearing his marks.
Feeling owned.
When I shove my fingers into Elliot’s mouth, he eagerly laves his lips and tongue over them much as he did to my cock earlier. It’s temp
ting to put him back onto his knees right now to get another blowjob from him, except I want to wait for that.
I won’t be conscious after a second one as good as—or better than—that one.
I have no doubts the next blowjob will be even better, because he won’t be worried about me saying no.
He’ll be eager to please his Sir.
Pulling my fingers from his mouth, my lips crash over his while I reach for his cock again. It doesn’t take me long to milk enough pre-cum from him that I don’t even need to bother getting up and grabbing a bottle of lube from my carryon. It was one of the things I purchased earlier, along with condoms and suitcases.
I don’t even bother lifting my mouth from his. I just mumble against his lips. “You have permission to come, boy. This time.”
Against my back, I feel his fists tighten, along with the rest of his body. I hold his head in place and suck every last moan and whimper from him as his cock almost immediately pumps my fist full of his cum.
While he’s lying there limp in my arms, I release his cock, lift my mouth from his, and because he’s a well-trained boy, he knows exactly what to do. His eyes flutter open again as he meets my gaze and licks every drop from my hand.
The whole time he’s doing that, I massage the back of his head.
“Good boy.”
I spot the moment when his brains fall back into his head. There’s a flash of awareness as he processes we just crossed another line between us, one that can’t be uncrossed.
And yet he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.
If anything, he adds extra sauciness to his sucking.
Naughty boy.
I stroke his head and, once he’s finished, I let him move his arms. Now he’s still in my lap, but he’s back to holding on to my arm, which is draped across his chest.
“You’re talking putting up with me for the better part of ten years,” I say. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider?”
Elliot shakes his head. “I’m not reconsidering, Sir. I know I made the right choice. The perfect choice.”
Well, fuck.
What am I supposed to say to that?
Ruffling his hair, I let out a sigh of my own. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me for the long-haul, boy.”
Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2) Page 18
