Confusion now. “What are you talking about?”
Obviously, he hasn’t yet spoken to Elliot in private. I keep my gaze on his lips, not his eyes. My true focus is on his hand holding my phone, because it’s inching downward. A little lower, and I’ll be able to snatch it back from him.
“Don’t tell me you give a shit about me. Once I wasn’t in your bed, I basically became a liability and didn’t rate your time any longer. You ignored me, Leo. Worse? You ignored him. I’m the one picking up the pieces for him because you couldn’t be bothered to do your fucking job.”
His voice downshifts into a threatening tone, reminiscent of the sadist, and he moves like he’s going to go around me. “You and I need to talk. Alone. Now.”
I side-step with him, blocking his path.
Because I will not have this conversation here and now, and I want my damn phone back.
“No. I’m returning to work, Leo. You and I can talk some other time, but we are not having any conversation until you set things right with someone else first.”
Okay, so, ironically, now it all makes sense in my head. That’s what this whole thing really boils down to, for me.
He hurt my boy. He hurt Elliot by his withdrawal.
On top of that, he hurt me by giving up and letting me go without more of a fight.
Worse? Me leaving was supposed to fix things for Elliot, and Leo was too stupid or stubborn or selfish—or maybe a combination of all of the above—to see that and take care of Elliot.
The reasons don’t matter, I guess. Elliot needed him and he wasn’t there for Elliot.
I’m angry and hurting, and now that I have a solid mental grasp on the whys, that pain is rapidly ballooning and threatening to explode out of control.
“Because until that talk happens,” I continue, “you and I have nothing to talk about that doesn’t involve work.”
A hand reaches in from behind Leo and plucks the phone from his hand, startling both of us. Leo spins around to reveal Kev standing there and wearing an inscrutable expression.
He walks up the stairs and hands me my phone. “The vice president is looking for you, Jordan.”
“Thank you, Mr. Markos.” I step around them and head downstairs.
Behind me, I hear, “And, Leo, the president is looking for the economic council briefing folder she was studying earlier. She can’t find it and thinks she left it in the bedroom. Go look. Now. She needs it.”
That’s an order if I ever heard one. “Yes, sir.”
I look back when I reach the lower landing and see Kev glance down at me, waving his hand to shoo me out of there.
This whole power-walking thing is getting easier the more I do it. If I was worried about making a step count total, I’d have blasted it into the stratosphere today.
I don’t know if Elliot really needed me or not, but I stop there first to check in and find him on the phone with someone. I duck out and head to the kitchen again to order Elliot’s dinner and arrange for it to be delivered to him in his office.
Then I hustle my ass back upstairs and gather my shit together, step into Elliot’s office, and close and lock the door behind me.
Once he’s off the phone, I round his desk and hug him.
“What’s wrong, Sir?”
Shit. “Had a minor run-in with Leo upstairs. He wanted to talk, I didn’t, and Kev intervened. Look, dinner will be here for you at five. Then you go home.” I hand him the burner. “Tell Leo you want him to come over tonight. I can’t talk to him until he talks to you.”
Fear fills his eyes, until I lean in and kiss him. “Be honest with him, El. Tell him you were lonely and scared and missed him. Tell him everything you told me about why you came to me. Tell him your fears about losing him—everything. Let him hear it. He’s a big boy. He can deal with it.”
“Then what?”
I rub his head. “Then I’ll talk to him sometime this week. But he needs to absorb your words first.” I cup his head in my hands and kiss him again. “Because he needs the honest feedback from you. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” I kiss his eyelids, his forehead, the tip of his nose, his lips. “I love you.”
His breath hitches. “I love you, too, Sir.”
And that’s what it boils down to, isn’t it? My building righteous indignation on Elliot’s behalf for what Leo did by withdrawing from him. Especially in light of the sacrifices I made so that would not happen in the first place.
I stroke his hair. “We’re a team now, you and me. For this to get fixed, permanently, and for there to be any hope of the three of us being together forever, Leo needs to hear the truth from you. You have to tell him your feelings about everything. The good, and the messy.”
“What if he walks away?”
That thought guts me despite my best efforts not to get my hopes up. “Then it’s still you and me. I think the past three weeks have proven we’re stronger than we thought, right?”
Barring this morning.
I’ll have to figure something out for that, if Leo refuses to figure this shit out inside his own brain.
He nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I give him one last hug and kiss. “I’m going. I’ll be out late, unless you call me and tell me that he’s left. Please, talk to him tonight.”
“Yes, Sir. But what about you?”
“This needs to be just you two tonight. If you get the talking out of the way, have fun and enjoy yourselves. Do more than talk. Go ahead and fuck each other’s brains out. Besides, you two are way overdue for a struggle snuggle, and I get to fall asleep next to you later tonight. Okay?”
That finally earns me a smile. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
I grab my stuff and head out, managing to miss bumping into Leo on the way. Today has gone sideways from the start, although I suppose I don’t have much room to talk.
There’s always far worse things that can happen, and that point was painfully driven home to me in the SitRoom this morning.
That’s the other reason I cannot talk to Leo right now. I need time to…process. Both my newly clarified emotions regarding everything, and the aftermath of what I witnessed this morning. If Leo knows exactly how fucked up I am over that, he’ll want to default to taking care of me mode instead of remaining equals to talk, and I don’t know if I have the strength to resist him in private. Not after what I saw. Not right now.
Maybe if he works out the worst of his angst with Elliot, then we can hash out our shit.
After I talk with Elliot.
Opting to take a cab, because I don’t know if Leo’s put out the word with Secret Service to alert him to my whereabouts or not, I return to the residence. There, I quickly shower, change into khakis and a casual, short-sleeved button-down, and head out again, but on foot this time.
I stop at the guardhouse to speak to the agent on duty. I’m not sure if he’s friends with Leo or not. He’s a younger guy, maybe late twenties, so there’s a chance he doesn’t know Leo very well beyond any contact they have through work.
“Leo Cruz will likely come by tonight to visit the vice president. Under no circumstances is he to ever be given any information about me, my comings and goings—nothing. Not unless I specifically okay it. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” He makes a note of it in the computer.
“Thanks.” I opt to walk, which at one time would have earned me a spanking if Leo knew, but I don’t care.
I need to stretch my legs and I haven’t had much of a chance to walk around the city since my return.
Now that I have a little bit of a mental handle on why I’m resisting Leo when, just a few weeks ago, my greatest dream would have been falling into his arms, it all…fits.
I no longer trust Leo like I did before.
Leo let Elliot down. He failed him, and it was a completely preventable failure.
He failed a man who I knew at the center of my being, an indelible truth, was the one person in the universe Leo would absolutely lay d
own everything for if Elliot asked him to.
Everything.
And Leo failed him when I had specifically sacrificed my dreams to make sure Elliot could succeed. To prevent a failure.
It’s heartbreaking.
But now my own soul is troubled and wonders if Leo would have eventually neglected me like that, too.
Hopefully, it’s also fixable.
If Leo can pry his head out of his ass.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I take my time making my way to the restaurant and arrive fifteen minutes early. I still haven’t turned on my personal cell—I left it at home. My work and campaign cells remain quiet, though.
Alexa blows in five minutes late in a smiling, giggling rush, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry!” She leans in and pecks me on the cheek and throws her arms around me in a hug that’s over before I can register it or react. “Been waiting long?”
“No, just got here,” I lie. I signal to the hostess that we’re ready to be seated. At least it’s early and the dinner rush hasn’t started yet. I sit with my back to the door, unlike Leo usually did. I’m not armed, and I’m not looking to be recognized.
That’s despite countless chastisements by Leo to always sit facing a door and my back to the wall if I’m not with him, so I can see if anyone comes through the door armed, to give me time to duck out the back. Something I did do while I was in Florida, I’ll have to admit.
Tonight, however, I’m feeling rebellious. It’s like a subtle fuck-you to the sadist.
I’m a grown-ass adult. I’ll sit wherever the hell I want.
Besides in this chair, I can see one of the TVs over the bar, which is playing CNN and on which they’re talking about today’s developments. I can’t read the captions from here, even with my glasses.
At least they’re not showing the video.
One benefit of not having a car in DC is not worrying about getting in trouble for drunk driving. I order myself a martini and a glass of water to start with and settle in to chat with my “date.”
I can tell she’s eager to try to get dirt on the administration from me, stroking my ego in hopes I’ll start bragging, but she’s an amateur.
My education came at the hands of a literal Master.
I smile and nod in all the right places and easily divert her questions, pivoting her into talking about herself.
Because she loves to talk about herself and her career and her aspirations. It gets easier to make her do that, too, the drunker she gets.
We’re finishing our salads and awaiting our main course when she leans in. She’s on her fourth drink, and I’m still nursing martini number two, interspersed with a lot of water.
“So, what’s it like living with the vice president? Does he have any hobbies, or a secret girlfriend, or something?”
Wow, she’s really drunk. “Well, I pay rent, there’s housekeeping included, my roommate is a very visible government official, all our groceries are delivered for us, and we have the best security system in the world.” I swirl my glass and smile as I say it. I know how to play a flirty straight dude.
“You ever allowed to bring home overnight guests?”
I shrug. “Doubtful. Why? Are you volunteering to be one?” I wink, making her giggle again.
I’ve never been with a woman. No desire to, either. Nothing against them, obviously, just not my jam. I’d feel like that even if I wasn’t doubly taken by Elliot and—
Well, I’m taken by Elliot.
Who knows if I’ll be doubly taken by Leo?
She bites her lower lip and leans forward, exposing more cleavage. I let my gaze drift there for a moment, because it’s expected of me.
Her finger traces the rim of her glass. “It’d be so cool to see the inside of the vice president’s residence.”
“I can show you pictures from my portfolio after the decorating was finished.”
Another giggle. “Silly. I mean in person.”
I can also play coy with the best of them. I prop my left elbow on the table, my chin resting in my palm. “It’d be easier for me to get you a tour of the White House residence. How about that?”
A man’s hand painfully clamps down on the nape of my neck. Reflexively, I’m about to deliver an elbow to the asshole’s midsection, when he also clamps a hand onto my left wrist, around my bracelet, and speaks.
“Jordan. Fancy running into you here.”
Motherfucker.
He squeezes my left wrist, painfully pressing the bracelet into my flesh before releasing his hold. Still has a grip on my neck, though, and now he’s just fucking with me, the stalky fuck.
I glare up into Leo’s narrowed, dark gaze and manage to grit out a response despite the way his fingers are painfully digging into my neck. “What are you doing here, Leo? I thought you were supposed to be assisting Vice President Woodley tonight?”
I will not call him Sir if I can help it. Not until we sort shit out.
“I am. But I love their osso buco here. Funny coincidence, I placed a takeout order. It’ll be ready shortly. I happened to spot you and thought I’d come say hello.” He suddenly releases me and leans toward Alexa, holding his hand out to her.
I fucking hate that I catch myself starting to lean toward him, to follow him, and miss his touch already.
I also hate that my cock’s rock-hard right now.
“Alexa, isn’t it?” He’s all charm and grace. Fuck, if he was wearing a tux instead of a regular suit, she’d probably orgasm right there.
She giggles and blushes as she puts her hand in his and he kisses it, making me fume.
“Yes! Aren’t you Leo Cruz?”
“Mais oui, mademoiselle. Or, since we’re in an Italian restaurant, perhaps I should say, sì, signora.”
Oh, fuck. She’s beaming at him like a goddamned sunlamp. Motherfucker, he can seduce her in seven fucking languages, and no way in hell is he so much as interested in even kissing her in any of them. Why the hell isn’t he with Elliot?
He pulls out a chair and sits, smiling at her. “So, how do you know Jordan? I believe I’ve seen you in the press room before, haven’t I?”
“I ran into him today outside the West Wing, and we started talking. I didn’t realize he was back.”
“Ah.” He looks me dead in the eyes as he smiles, and not Leo, or Sir, either.
It’s the sadist in the house. I shiver even as my cock hardens that much more. “Isn’t that nice?” he purrs. “Do you speak Italian, Alexa?”
“Me? Oh, no.” She takes another large swig of her drink. “Although I can order tequila and tacos in Spanish on Cinco de Mayo. Does that count?”
“Of course, it counts!” But his gaze is still fixed on me.
Her phone buzzes with a text message. When she checks it, Leo drops his voice to barely a whisper while still smiling at me, a smile that both terrifies and thrills me.
Fucker.
“Sei mio. Per sempre. Non dimenticarlo mai.”
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
My cock’s throbbing because Elliot isn’t the only well-trained pet this man’s owned.
Usually, he would growl that while biting me all over, teasing me.
Edging me while I was bound and begging and desperate and needy, and frequently with a freshly spanked ass.
You’re mine. Always. Never forget that.
I’m struggling not to burst into relieved tears and slither to my knees on the floor and put my head in his lap.
No. I’m not doing this here. I’m not doing anything with Leo until we talk in private. I want answers from the stalky fuck.
I sit back with my martini in hand and force myself to keep smiling, keep my tone light, so Alexa doesn’t know something’s going down. “Basta, Leo.” I take a sip.
That’s enough.
He sits back wearing a satisfied smirk.
No, I’m not fluent like him, but I can swear and safeword in six languages besides English, thanks to this bastard sitting right here. Thankfully, I spot a ser
ver heading our way, carrying a bag that looks like it’s holding a takeout container.
I point. “I think your order’s ready.”
It can’t be a coincidence that osso buco happened to be the special listed on the sidewalk board out front tonight, and likely something that’d be ready to come out of the kitchen quickly.
Sure enough, the server has Leo’s order.
Leo stands, smiling as Alexa finishes her text reply and looks up. “Going so soon?”
He holds up the bag. “I really need to run. I don’t want to keep the vice president waiting, and I’m sure Jordan doesn’t want me cock-blocking him on his date. It was so lovely meeting you.” He bows as he kisses her hand again, then nods at me. “Jordan. We’ll talk soon.”
The asshole actually plants his hand on my head and ruffles my fricking hair before he walks away.
Mother.
Fucker.
He might as well have licked me, and then dropped his damned pants and pissed all over me.
Marking his goddamned territory.
Oh, not that Alexa picked up on any of it.
That was all for my benefit.
It’s even more proof to me that I need to have it out with him, because of the way my body feels right now.
Because I’m conditioned to respond to him.
But I need to know this man’s going to do right by Elliot and me before I give in to Leo Cruz again. Elliot will probably be our next president, and I cannot have Leo fucking around and not taking this seriously.
I won’t let him fuck shit up for Elliot. I know Leo would be happier if Elliot didn’t run for POTUS, but my first priority is Elliot.
Unless or until he decides he’s done, I will fight as hard as I need to for him.
“He seems nice,” she gushes as she watches him leave. “I’ve seen him before, but I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him.”
I glance back and yeah, he’s fucking sauntering. Rolling that ass and knowing I love the damned view.
Of course I do, and he knows it.
He steps outside and a car pulls up to the curb. Leo doesn’t look back as he climbs inside what I’m assuming is a car being driven by a Secret Service agent. It pulls away.
Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2) Page 34
