Leo’s standing off to the side, silently watching with a playful smile.
He might be used to working with the president of the United States, but I’m still trying to convince myself I’m not dreaming all of this while stuck in a coma or something.
Normally, President Samuels wouldn’t be bothered with these deets, but some of the guests are personal friends of hers, and she wanted to give input this time.
Once the meeting ends, I remember the protocols Leo drilled into me. “Thank you, Madam President.” I head out with the other staffers, returning to the East Wing so we can get this dinner planning underway. It isn’t a state dinner, but it’s pretty dang important.
I work in the East Wing—not across the street in the EEOB with most of the staffers—in an office on the second floor of the East Wing. An office that is wholly my own. A small one, but it has a door that closes and locks and everything.
Sometimes, I still cannot believe I work for the First Spouse. Which is how staff decided to refer to Mr. Bruunt, instead of First Gentleman, because he wasn’t fond of that option. My title is deputy assistant to the First Spouse’s chief of staff. I even have two paid staffers and two college interns who work under me.
My boyfriend is the president’s body man.
Yeah, I’m reasonably sure Mimi would be fine with me postponing my master’s for this.
Yesterday, Leo went with me to speak to the head of President Samuels’ Secret Service detail and a rep from the FBI. Of course my parents were total dicks and didn’t want to talk to the FBI agent about my background check. Fortunately, since I disclosed on my forms that I’m estranged from them, and why, that wasn’t a ding against me.
President Samuels signed a provisional waiver to approve my full clearance, since they’re still working through my background check. As of right now, I now have full clearance to come and go from the White House, including upstairs in the White House residence.
Mr. Bruunt makes it clear that this is due in no small part to Leo vouching for me, and that my actions reflect upon Leo. Meaning they expect me to fly right and make Leo proud. I damn sure won’t let any of them down.
Especially not Leo.
Some of my unofficial duties in the future might include retrieving items, or clothing, from the residence for the president and her husband. I don’t have door-knock privileges the way Leo and Kev do, but I have infinitely greater access than the average senior staffer. Frequently, I’ll be expected to “staff” the First Gentleman, meaning I’ll act as his body man the way Leo is for the president. Sometimes, I might be expected to help staff the president, too.
Since I know their secret and I’m sworn to silence, they trust me to do this more than most of the other staffers.
Leo’s private goal is to nudge Elliot toward taking me on as his permanent body man, but he’s letting him get settled into his new role as VP, for now.
I don’t know how much my parents know about my job after talking to the FBI agent for my clearance paperwork, but part of me wants to call and rub their noses in it. That despite them trying to sabotage me, I’ve still succeeded.
I ain’t dead yet.
I’m thinking I’ll wait until I have a picture of me with the president and her husband, and then send Mom and Dad a copy, along with a copy of my business card that says I’m a deputy assistant to the chief of staff to the First Spouse.
My hope is that it’ll make them choke on their outrage.
Or, maybe I could post it on my Facebook profile, and tag people from my hometown and my parents’ church. Then everyone would know their son is alive and well and seated at the right hand of the president.
Wouldn’t that be a hoot?
Again, it sucks that I couldn’t witness their outrage first-hand.
Leo convinces me to be the bigger man, though. To not focus on them and the past.
And…Leo’s right, of course.
Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about it.
As I settle into my job, and I learn my way not only around the White House, but also learn more about DC and the national political machine, I realize something.
I’m good at this.
I mean, really good at it.
Not just the protocols and social media part of things, but the political part of it, too.
My mask comes in handy—the innocent one. People talk to me and around me.
About lots of things.
Things I report to Leo, and he passes on to the president and her husband.
Kevin Markos and Lauren Baltazar, the press secretary, both take me under their wings and start educating me whenever they can. When they give me recommended reading, I buy the books immediately from Amazon, on my Kindle whenever possible, and devour them. They even comment they think I have a natural knack for politics, for the backroom sausage-making.
I don’t just learn—I devour. Mimi, I’m sure, would tell me this is still a way of continuing my education. I get to know House and Senate staffers up on the Hill and spend time with them having drinks or dinners.
Which means I hear more things, learn more things.
Like learning that, while I am a natural when it comes to interpreting polls and spotting voter trends, I also don’t have the cutthroat, stone-cold viciousness necessary to make Washington politics a full-time job despite my natural skill at it.
A skill that comes with my abilities as a natural chameleon. It’s that, more than political acumen, that makes me good at what I do outside of the East Wing.
Doing what I’m doing inside the East Wing? Absolutely, that’s great and totally in my wheelhouse.
Except Elliot and I share more than Leo—we share a distaste for the blood sport aspect of DC. No way in hell do I ever want to run for office. President Samuels definitely has the steely nerves and titanium spine to go with her metaphorical balls to kick ass and take names. Elliot wants to be nothing more than a statesman and a lawmaker.
I’m not sure how Elliot plans to be POTUS if or when he runs for the job himself. He’s too…nice.
I still can’t picture him commanding combat troops and actually shooting and killing people. That’s even after me witnessing him in the middle of vicious, feral play with Leo.
Elliot Woodley is just a damned nice guy.
Despite my best efforts, Elliot still hasn’t taken Leo up on his offer to make use of me. Even after Leo has me staff Elliot several times a month.
I keep hoping one of these days that Elliot will lock me in his office, put me on my knees or bend me over his desk, and fuck my brains out.
Alas…no.
Leo’s had me accompany him to Elliot’s residence several more times, where sexy fun is had. Again, though, it’s like the night of the inauguration—Leo plays with both of us, but Elliot makes no move to include me despite Leo specifically telling him that he can.
Not going to lie that it stings a little. I get hit on all the time by guys and women. People know I live with Leo, because that’s something we have to disclose on security clearance forms, but no one outside the FBI and Secret Service, or Shae, Chris, Elliot, Kev, and Lauren, know we’re involved with each other.
Obviously, I’m not a fricking ugly-ass troll, even if I feel like one next to Elliot. I mean, the guy’s a fricking hunk.
I know Leo loves me. And when we go out for dinner, or he attends a club concert with me—because I’m no longer allowed to attend a club concert without him, or without someone armed who he’s paid to go with me if Leo can’t go with me—Leo never hesitates to hold hands with me, or possessively drape an arm around me as we walk. Not scandalously sucking face or drawing attention to ourselves, but nothing any average couple wouldn’t do.
We’re together.
It’s why I know I can deal with Elliot being an invisible but ever-present ghost in our relationship. For so many years, Leo held himself back and waited because of his love for Elliot. Leo’s not a manwhore who jumps from bed to bed.
He gives his hea
rt and soul to those he loves. He loves Elliot, a man who, admittedly, is difficult to love because he’s bound so tightly by his fears.
Now that I am allowed first-hand access to this secret world, I can also see all the many ways Elliot needs Leo in his life. To balance him, to soothe him, to keep him from self-destructing an otherwise pristine and proud life dedicated to public service.
Elliot needs Leo.
Even though it’d be easy for anyone else to walk away from the bullshit and secrecy and private pain loving such a man can bring, Leo refuses to give up on Elliot.
Which is one of the many reasons I love Leo so damned much.
* * * *
Our second Christmas together, Leo and I fly out to California, and he introduces me to his family.
As his boyfriend.
They already know about me. I’m terrified they might not like me, or like that I’m eighteen years younger than Leo.
Except when we arrive, I walk inside their home and a familiar aroma smacks me right in the heart and, for a moment, makes me think of Mimi.
Her picadillo, my favorite recipe.
Leo conspired with Meredith Cruz, sending her copies of my favorite recipes for her to prepare for me.
I’m blown away by their welcoming and feel absolutely…adored by them. When they insist I call them Mom and Dad, I have to eventually escape to their bathroom for a moment to regain my composure.
Why can’t they be my parents? My in-laws?
Why can’t Leo marry me and still love and protect Elliot? I would never make him give up Elliot.
But the bracelet on my wrist reminds me that while Leo loves me, Elliot will always come first.
It’s what I agreed to.
There won’t be a ring on my finger with a matching one on Leo’s. Not any time soon.
Leo never lied to me, never led me on.
I guess it’s up to me to figure out how to make it work.
Two weeks into the new year, there’s a band I really want to see in DC on a Friday night.
A rare Friday night Elliot has nothing on his schedule except staying home, due to a last-minute event cancellation.
Leo’s torn, and I get it. Instead of forcing him into a corner, I make the choice for him and talk to one of the guys on Elliot’s detail, I guy who I know is single and has the night off, ask if he’d like to come with—armed, of course—and then tell Leo it’s all right if he goes to Elliot’s.
I break that news to Leo up in his little office on the third floor of the residence, with the door closed.
I hate that he looks…torn. “I’m sorry, Jor. I thought maybe you’d want to come with me.”
I’ve decided to start this new year off with a personal and private resolution of my own—to not beat my head against the wall that is Elliot Woodley. That’s the only way I’ll maintain my own sanity and not grow bitter over this.
I also play to the “forgiveness instead of permission” adage. “I thought you’d want time alone with him, since we went to California. I already asked Nyles if he’d like to go.” I smile, hoping Leo believes it. “He said he’ll wear a gun, and I promise to take a cab.”
That Leo gives in far easier than I anticipated means I was right to do this. “All right. If you’re sure.”
I know Leo’s disappointed, because he still thinks he’s going to persuade Elliot to come around.
But I don’t have the heart to break it to Leo that, despite his beliefs, I’m nearly positive Elliot doesn’t like me. I mean, Elliot tolerates me. Maybe he doesn’t hate my guts, but the guy doesn’t have the freedom with Leo that I do.
If I can’t be at least a little magnanimous and give Elliot alone time with Leo, I don’t deserve to be in Leo’s life.
That Friday night, Nyles and I grab a bite to eat—my treat—before we head to the club. It always feels a little weird going to one of these concerts with someone besides Leo, because that first night is indelibly etched in my memory.
Leo had his own chat with Nyles before we met for dinner, confirmed when we emerge from the cab at the club and Nyles is suddenly treating me more like a protectee than a casual companion.
Can’t help but wonder if this was what Leo was like when he worked private security or on The Shift. It’s kind of hot. Except Nyles isn’t as tall as Leo, and while a couple of years older than me, he just doesn’t ring my bell the same way Leo does. Nyles isn’t a bad-looking guy, don’t get me wrong. He’s damned handsome.
But he’s not my guy.
This club only has one balcony. Once we’ve staked out a position toward one end, Nyles keeps himself between me and the bulk of the other concertgoers up there.
And three different times, when people make the rounds selling drugs, Nyles silently chases them away with a threatening glare that would harden my cock if he was Leo.
But he’s not.
Leo’s with Elliot tonight.
The love of his life.
The guy who’s not me.
The guy who’s not into me.
Shut up, brain.
I force my attention onto the stage, to the opening act, before my thoughts threaten to eat me alive.
I’ll never admit to Leo that, later, once I’m safely back at our apartment and climbing into bed—alone—I have myself a good hard cry.
Leo’s stretched thin enough as it is. He doesn’t need to deal with my insecurities.
It’s nearly four a.m. when I startle awake at the sound of the front door gently closing and the alarm being disarmed and reset. I lie there, listening, waiting for Leo to come into the bedroom.
He does, on bare feet, the rustle of clothes giving him away.
Nope, I can’t help myself.
I sit up in bed, and he steps over. Without a word, I grab him and kiss him with a ferocity that surprises even me. I could never struggle against Leo the way Elliot does. Even if I had the skills and training to fight him, I like being pinned down too much to fight back.
Yet tonight I grab him, nipping and biting as I fall back onto the bed and pull him with me, fumbling for his belt so I can free his cock. He reaches for the lube in the nightstand, and seconds later, we’re fucking with him still fully dressed and me naked and squirming under him.
My fingers twine in his hair and I slant my lips over his. I want him hard and fast and deep. I want my scent on him instead of Elliot’s. I want him inside me.
I want my marks on him, my teeth biting him, my nails raking furrows across his ass.
I don’t want the light on right now. I’ll see the evidence of his time with Elliot in the morning, during our shower.
His collar’s unfastened, his tie loose, and I can shove his shirt out of the way enough to put my mark low on his throat, almost at his collarbone.
Leo’s throaty chuckle as he slows his fucking while I bite and suck on his flesh drills as deep into my soul as his cock’s drilling my ass.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Reclaim your Sir.”
Of course he knows what I’m doing. Fricking psychologist, duh. He’s painfully optimistic, not totally clueless.
Fifteen minutes later, after he’s filled me and then blows me, and he’s cleaned up, we’re naked in bed together.
Neither of us have to be at work until after ten this morning, because it’s a Saturday and we don’t have early events.
Cuddling against him, I press my face against his pecs and leave another mark.
His hand settles on the back of my head, massaging my scalp as I chew on him. “Did you have fun at the concert, baby?”
“Mmm hmm,” I mumble without releasing my bite.
“I’m sorry I didn’t go with you.” I feel his warm breath in my hair. “Thank you for tonight. Elliot asked me to say thank you, too.”
I release my bite and kiss him again without responding to that. I…can’t right now. I can’t talk about it. It feels raw in a bad way, in a way it usually doesn’t feel.
Like it’s trying to form an emotional
callus but hasn’t quite managed it yet.
“Love you, baby,” he whispers. “You’re my boy. Always. For life. I’m never walking away from you, I promise.”
Like that, my pain drains away. “Love you, too, Sir.” I tip my face up for one more kiss before we settle in to sleep as long as we can.
I want to be…petty.
I want to remind Elliot it doesn’t have to be like this. That he could have Leo and he could have me.
That he’s only hurting Leo by stretching the man we both love so thinly between us.
I know Elliot needs Leo.
I just wish Elliot wanted or needed me, too.
* * * *
After six years spent working in the White House, I have learned so many things and made so many connections that I could easily walk into any political consulting or lobbyist firm and walk out with a job making at least two hundred thousand a year.
Contacts are everything in this town, and I have a bunch. Knowledge is power.
I have that, too.
Contacts and knowledge aren’t just power in this town—they’re currency.
I have the respect of my peers. I have a man I love beyond reason…
And I have a sense of greater purpose. An expanded worldview that allows me to see the big picture in a way few can outside the theater of national and world politics.
We’re now in August of year two of President Samuels’ second term, and there’s still a lot to accomplish on her legislative agenda.
Elliot Woodley hasn’t officially declared yet, even though all signs point to that, including the man’s own actions.
Except…
That man I love beyond reason? That man I know loves me, and who wants to spend the rest of his life with me? That man who swears he will never walk away from me?
The man who literally put himself between me and potential death without hesitation?
He loves Elliot Woodley beyond reason and logic.
Leo’s also flirting with full-on denial about Elliot declaring.
And after a lot of painful, secret soul-searching, and a long discussion with Kevin Markos…
I can no longer ignore the truth.
Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2) Page 13