A needy, nonstop stream of some of the filthiest things any human’s ever said in their life rolls from him, begging for me to fill him, to breed him, to own him, to claim him. This man, this consummate professional, who I’ve watched interact with politicians, and handle opposing counsel in depositions, and deal with juries in trials.
This man who leads my staff, who shadowed me my last Senate campaign as my body man, who, in my presence, always treated my wife with the utmost respect.
As I come I kiss him and feel him spill all over my hand, over both of us.
As without, so within.
We kiss even as we catch our breaths, and I’m not moving yet because I want to freeze this moment in time.
Declan and I…should talk.
We need to talk.
We reeeeeally need to talk, especially now.
We can talk later, though.
After I fucking have a little talk with Casey.
Because I want to know why, if Declan’s only been with Casey, then how the fuck does he know these beautiful, perfect phrases?
I want to know how he knew exactly the things my girl used to beg me for, literally verbatim.
Not just reminding me of how she begged—I mean using the exact phrases in the exact ways she always used to beg me, even from the beginning.
Something she brought to the table with her, not something I taught her that she might have told Casey about.
I don’t know what Casey’s game is, but this is not a game to me and I’m playing for keeps.
This boy is now mine.
Like fucking hell am I giving him back or giving him up without a goddamned fight.
Casey was right last night that the old George is back.
But what she doesn’t know is how much of a bastard the old George is.
A bastard who damn sure plays for keeps.
Now that I have found a new reason for living, best friend or not, I’m not going to let Casey stand in my fucking way with Declan.
Life’s taken too damn much from me already.
It’s time for me to start taking back.
Chapter Twenty-One
I finally let Declan out of bed to go start the coffee after I make him promise to come shower with me. He returns in a couple of minutes and joins me in the bathroom.
In the shower, I have fun spanking him with my bare hand and watching him get hard.
Even I need a little more time than that to recover, but I cradle his body pressed against me like I did last night in the office, me leaning against the shower wall, one hand firmly around his throat and the other around his cock.
Wringing another orgasm from him leaves him trembling in my arms and leaves me determined to get answers from Casey.
Not in front of him, though. I don’t want to put him on the defensive on her behalf. I’m sure he feels loyal to her.
I take great satisfaction that every mark I left on him last night is still there, and I take a few minutes we really don’t have to add a few more to the mix.
I let him use my razor and deodorant, so in addition to my body wash and shampoo, now he smells like me, which more than amuses me. He’s got a travel toothbrush in his laptop case.
I’ll get him a toothbrush of his own for my bathroom, one to keep here permanently.
He’s going to need it.
I watch him in the mirror as he runs my comb through his damp hair. Unable to help myself, I wrap my arms around him from behind and nibble on his ear, noting in the mirror the way his eyes drop closed and he presses back against me.
“Can you stay over tonight?” I ask.
He forces his eyes open and meets my gaze in the mirror. In his hesitation, I know his answer before he even speaks it.
“I need to ask Ma’am,” he quietly says.
“How often do you stay overnight with her?”
“It depends on our schedules. Usually only on weekend nights. Not every weekend, either.”
“And she never goes to your place?”
“No, Sir. She says it’s too risky. I do have thin walls, but we also worry about someone spotting her with me like that.”
That is a valid point. The fact that I hadn’t heard jack shit about them being together speaks to how damned careful they were. I still wouldn’t know it if it hadn’t been for her setting us up last night.
But she has no problem being seen with other guys. And who knows how many other guys she’s been with who she keeps secret.
That pisses me off, although I tamp it back, for now.
“You had no clue she was going to do that last night?”
“No, Sir.”
“I take it that’s not the first time you’ve fucked at the office?”
He smirks. “No, Sir. Not even the hundred and first. This office, and at the law office.”
“How long, exactly, have you two been an item?”
His smile fades. “I’d rather let Ma’am tell that story.”
That pisses me off, but I’m not going to take it out on him. “Why?”
“Because while you were cleaning up in her bathroom last night, she told me when you ask about us to let her tell you the story.”
Something is not computing. For the first time since I’ve become friends with Casey-Marie Blaine, I no longer trust her. “But it’s your story, too.”
He turns in my arms. “Are you telling me to disobey Ma’am, Sir?” he quietly asks.
There’s something in his tone, borderline agony, that backs me off. Spanking his ass is one thing.
Hurting his feelings?
Even I’m not that much of a bastard. “No. I’ll ask her, boy. It’s okay.” I pull him into my arms for another hug.
From the way he relaxes, I know that was the right answer, but I’ll need to figure out how to make sure Casey isn’t feeding me a line of bullshit.
I want the truth from her.
About everything.
Less than twenty-four hours into whatever the hell this new thing is, I realize that I’m going to fight with everything I have in me to keep it going. I don’t care he’s a guy. It’s like Fate stepped in to try to help balance the scale back toward center. I won’t even say balanced in my favor, because that ship has long since sailed. It can never again be balanced in my favor.
Not without my girl.
In the cold light of the morning, I finally admit I cannot continue trying to bare-knuckle my personal and professional life the way I was.
I…fucking slept last night. Literally the best night’s sleep I’ve had since my nightmare started.
Thanks to Declan.
* * * *
We’re downstairs in the kitchen when Casey arrives. I’m barefoot and in slacks and my dress shirt, which is still unbuttoned over my undershirt.
Declan is naked except for my robe, which I untied so it can hang open, because I’m a fucking sadist and I want to see my marks on him.
Or if I do something that makes him hard.
I briefly pinned him against the kitchen counter and kissed him while in my head I worked through a great fantasy of fucking him right there with his legs wrapped around me, but we don’t have time for that this morning.
If we did, trust me, that’s how Casey would walk in and find us.
As it is, we both hear her unlock the front door. Declan turns like he’s going to go greet her, so I pull him in for a long, deep kiss that quickly disengages his brain and has him draping his arms around my neck as I cup his ass.
Casey clears her throat from the kitchen doorway. I turn us so we can both see her, but I don’t stop kissing him.
She’s holding a garment bag and wearing that smirk. “I’m glad to see the two of you are getting along so well.”
I finally release Declan and he approaches her.
I’m watching her. I see the way her eyes scan his front, where four really good, dark hickeys are clearly visible with the robe hanging open.
Then her gaze cuts to me, she realizes I’m watching
her, and it darts back to Declan as she schools her expression.
Snapping her fingers, she points at the floor in front of her.
He immediately drops, kneeling, back rounded and his head touching her toes.
Now she looks at me again. “Greeting, boy.”
He nuzzles her feet with his lips, pausing there, his hands loosely cupping her heels. “Good morning, Ma’am.”
“Were you a good boy for George last night?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Excellent. Up.”
He jumps to his feet and she hands him the garment bag. “You’ll have to borrow one of George’s ties for today. I didn’t realize there were cum stains on the one at my house.”
“Sorry, Ma’am.” He starts to leave the kitchen, then turns back to me, as if to ask me a question.
Or permission.
“My bedroom,” I tell him. “I’ll be up in a minute. Wait for me there.”
He hurries off.
Case doesn’t move. “Well?” she asks.
I step toward the door leading to the utility room and garage and point at it.
She follows.
I don’t honestly know what my brain thinks happened, but if there was something going on between Declan and Ellen—which I doubt, but what the hell? —I want to know about it.
Once we’re in the utility room with the door shut behind us, I drop my voice.
“What the actual fuck, Case?”
She looks confused. “What?”
“Don’t you what me. You said he’s only been with you.”
“Yeah? So?”
“You fucking lied to me. What else have you lied about?”
Now she looks confused, which means she really is. She’s got a damned good poker face, usually. “Lied about what?”
I’m not thinking. Before I can even consider it, my hand shoots out and grabs her upper arm, fingers digging in. “When I fucked him, it was like fucking Ellen. Want to know why?”
I’m confused by her growing confusion. “Uh, yeah, actually, I do.”
“Because he said the exact same fucking things to me she used to say to me. How the hell did he know that, huh?”
“What things?”
It means admitting what I did, but fuck it. So I tell her.
Her eyes widen. “You fucked him raw?”
“Let’s circle back to my failings in a minute. How the fuck did he know what to say, huh?”
I don’t understand her…smile. Or why she starts laughing. “You dumb fuck.”
“What?”
She shrugs my hand off her arm and pulls her personal phone from her coat pocket. She calls up something, then shows it to me.
It’s a Kindle account, showing pictures of…romance books? I mean, that’s a lot of abs on the covers. I’m assuming they’re romances.
I don’t understand why she’s showing this to me. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
Now her expression changes, somber. “George, that’s Ellen’s Kindle account. She and I have always read nearly all the same books. We loaned them back and forth, or logged in to each other’s accounts to read them.”
She wistfully stares at the screen. “Even back then. Bare-back breeding is like one of the most common—and hottest—tropes in cis or gay erotica, regardless of the genre.” Her breath hitches. “Declan says what he says because of what I do with him and what I’ve said to him.”
She swipes through to another screen as I struggle to process that. Then she finds what she’s looking for, taps it, scrolls for a moment, and finally turns the screen again so I can read what’s there.
It’s an excerpt from a book.
“You want me to breed you, boy?” he asked Kelter.
“Yes, Sir! Please breed my ass!”
The Master leaned in closer. “Tell me why I should give you that privilege?”
Kelter undulated against his bonds. “This boy needs his ass bred this morning. Please, Sir, breed this boy’s—
I…swallow hard.
I won’t bore you with the deets, but it goes on like that for several more paragraphs.
“Yes, I talk dirty to the boy,” she says. “We both get off on it. So sue me. It’s one of my favorite books. And it was one of Ellen’s favorites.”
Annnnnd I feel like an idiot for getting upset.
Worse?
I feel like an utter shithead for not trusting Casey. Slumping back against the washing machine, I note her smirk but, even more importantly, relief is flowing through me.
“That was published over twenty years ago, asshole,” she snarks, but it’s in friend-Casey voice. Except then her tone gentles. “I’m sorry that spooked you.” Her tone brightens, snarky. “But other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?”
I meet her gaze again and snort with laughter, laughing so hard I nearly fall over. She opens her arms to me and I go to her for a long, tight hug.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling downright ashamed of myself now. “I’m so sorry, Case. I’m an asshole.”
“Yes, you are, but you’re my asshole.” She pats my back. “But other than that,” she gently adds, “did it help?”
“Yeah. Oooh, fuck yeah. I slept solid for the first time in…” I can’t say it. “I actually slept.”
“Okay.” She pats me again and I release her as she steps back. “Nice job on the hickeys, there, caveman,” she snarks. “Did you pee on him, too, to mark your territory?” I know from her smirk we’re okay.
“You ain’t see his ass yet.”
“Ooohhh, reeeeally?” She grins, and before I can stop her, she’s out the door and calling for Declan to not get dressed.
I follow her and we’re heading upstairs, where Declan had already pulled on socks and briefs and his undershirt. He was just stepping into his slacks when we roll through the door.
She snaps her fingers. “Show me,” she says.
Without hesitation, he drops his pants, shoves down his briefs, and pulls off the undershirt.
Casey circles him as I stand there, arms crossed over my chest and smiling at my handiwork. I’m proud of myself, I must say.
“Nice job, George,” she says once she completes a circuit. “He’ll be feeling that when he sits today.” She brushes a kiss across his lips that makes another of those dark bolts of jealousy shoot through me.
She ruffles his hair. “Good job, you,” she tells him, her voice sounding tender and playful with him and making him not only smile, but bringing a sweet blush to his cheeks that only intensifies my jealousy.
“Such a good boy,” she says. “Other than last night, remember, we do not do this shit at work. Not anymore. Too risky. That was a calculated risk on my part, I’ll admit it. But during the day, we don’t so much as talk about this at work. Deal?” That’s directed not only at him, but at me, too.
He nods, and so do I.
“Good,” she says. “My very good boy. You made me proud. I’ll leave you two alone to get dressed. Meet me downstairs in twenty.” She glances at me and I know that’s both a warning and a challenge, not simply a statement of fact.
The boy is hers.
Except…
Yeah.
I love her, but Declan’s now mine.
She closes the bedroom door behind her.
Declan’s still smiling and watching the door when I step in, grab him, and kiss him with my hand cupped around the back of his neck. Once I know he’s paying attention—and his cock is hard again—I put him on his knees in front of me and quickly fuck a load down his throat. I let him hold on to my legs and I don’t choke him. I want this to be fast and dirty.
He’s barely had time to swallow before I drag him into the bathroom, and, with both of us standing inside my shower, I hold him against me and jerk another one out of him, his cum splattering all over the shower wall.
As I ease the grip on his throat and kiss him, I know no matter how she tries to assert her ownership of him right now, I’m the on
e in his brain.
Me.
It’s my cum filling him from both ends this morning, my taste on his lips.
I smile down at him. “Whose boy are you?” I whisper.
He stares up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes of his. “I’m your boy, Sir,” he says.
My gaze narrows. “Tell me again whose boy you are, Declan.”
His lips part as he stares up at me for a long moment. “I’m your boy, George.”
The smile I now wear, I think it’s going to be permanently embedded in my flesh. I kiss him once more. “Who owns that sweet ass of yours, baby?” I whisper against his lips.
The glazed look in his eyes means he’s way back down in subspace. “You do, George, Sir. You own my ass.”
Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.
Chapter Twenty-Two
There’s something to be said about sitting through that morning’s meeting and smiling as I watch Declan wear one of my neckties.
Maybe it’s not a collar, but it’s the next best thing. Maybe even better, because he and I both know it’s mine, it’s out there in the open, and no one else knows.
Well, except Casey.
Even better—she knows it’s my necktie on him.
My territory is marked in a way not even she can replicate right now.
I know I’m on his mind, too, because every time he catches me staring at him, a little smile curves his lips and his cheeks pinken.
And he touches his tie.
We’re at work, though, so none of us talk about what happened. And it turns out Declan can’t spend tonight with me, because I forgot I have a fundraising event to attend tonight that’ll run late, and Dec and Casey have to be at budget negotiation meetings with staffers over at the capitol, which’ll probably run until midnight or later.
So here’s me at home at almost midnight Wednesday, just about pacing my house like a damned caged tiger. It’s a stupid analogy, but it’s the only one I can think of.
Then I go find Ellen’s old Kindle. The newest one I’d given her ahead of the trip had been in her carryon and—
I choke that thought off.
I take it up to my bedroom and plug it in. Once it’s got enough of a charge to turn on, I do. Then I lie in bed and find that book and read it.
Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1) Page 18
