He smiles. “You need to hear the details.”
“Do I really, Chris?”
“You do,” the senator says. “Because it’s…complicated.”
I see the way Chris looks at Kevin Markos, and then I realize…
Oh, shit.
I study Kevin Markos for a moment, and how he and ShaeLynn Samuels are both looking at Chris.
“That kind of complicated?” I ask.
Chris knows what I mean.
He slides his hands into his pockets and doesn’t fuck around. “We’re a poly triad together. I’m at the top, then Kev, then Shae.” He details his plan to retire next year, after the Iowa caucuses, and then marry Shae.
I haven’t even sat down yet.
“Yes,” I say.
“You’ll be helping us keep this a secret,” Kevin says, circling a finger to indicate the three of them. “From everyone. Running interference. Chris said you’re gay. We might be forced, at some point, to pretend you and I are in a relationship, if someone stumbles over something. I’d really like to keep the truth about all of this from my ex-wife, too. She’s a good friend, and we’re still close, but she absolutely cannot know about me and Shae. She knows about me and Chris. Sort of. Not his identity, or the fact that we’re kinky.”
His ex is still a news anchor at ultra-conservative FNB, where Kevin worked before he epically melted down live on the air one evening.
All of that wouldn’t be a hardship, either, because Kevin Markos is fucking hot. I worry what something like that might do to Elliot’s psyche, but I’ll explain it to him now, so he’s prepared.
“Not a problem. For the record, I’m kinky, too. I’m a Top. This trust box applies to me, too?”
They all nod.
“Then in the spirit of full disclosure, you should know I’m in a relationship with Representative Elliot Woodley, and he’s not coming out of the closet any time soon. As gay, or as my boy.”
They exchange a glance.
This feels…big. “What?”
Kevin clear his throat when it looks like the senator is going to speak. He takes over. “We are not prepared to make our short-list for VP public yet. Haven’t even talked to everyone. Including Woodley. I’m not ready to approach him yet, though. I have more research to do.”
My heart races. “I won’t tell him, unless or until you say I can.”
Kevin nods. “Greatly appreciated.”
I hold my hand out to Chris to shake. “That mean we’re doing this, boss?”
He smirks. “Don’t even want to discuss salary?”
“I know you’ll treat me fairly while I’m working for the campaign. You’ll be limited by what you can pay me once she’s elected. Take care of me, don’t screw me over, and be fair and kind to Elliot. That’s all I’m asking.”
He shakes with me. “Thanks, man. When can you start?”
I’d like to say right this minute, except I don’t want to burn any bridges by jumping ship that fast. If she isn’t elected, I’ll want that landing pad. “I’ll call the office, give my notice, and wrap up a few things. Unofficially, I can start Monday. Full-time, I can start in about a week.”
“I’m not just asking you to be her body man,” Chris says. “You’re my first choice because you’re a good agent. I want them protected. I’m counting on you to take care of my pets. You’ll be closer to them than their detail.”
“Doesn’t hurt that I like the fact you can be a translator,” the senator adds.
It feels like something inside me that’s been agonizingly ajar for years finally slips into its rightful place once more. Peace fills me.
“And as a personality profiler for you,” I add.
Chris nods. “I might have mentioned that, too.” He smirks. “You have invaluable skills.”
Kevin shakes with me. “Secret weapon. I like that. It’ll come in handy for debate prep.”
I study the three of them. “I feel like this is the beginning of something big.”
Kevin smiles. “I don’t think you’re wrong.”
Chapter Nineteen
I’m still mentally flying as I make my way home after my meeting with Chris, Shae, and Kev, as they’ve insisted I call them in private. Elliot’s coming over tonight to spend the weekend with me. I know play and sex are both on the menu, because it’s been three weeks since we’ve spent time together. We try to video chat every night but depending on his schedule, sometimes he can’t. We text every day, though, and voice calls. We do all that through the Signal app.
Since it’s on our personal phones, and doesn’t involve government business, it’s perfectly legal. It’s also one of the few ways Elliot has to release the trappings of his public persona and sink into what I think of as his pet mindset with me. This latest development means I’ll be investing in untraceable burner phones for us to use, though. One more level of protection for us. I can’t risk any scandal becoming a distraction for the press.
I haven’t pushed the issue of going over to Elliot’s apartment more often because it’s obvious it stresses him out when I’ve suggested it in the past.
He knows I’m here, and that I’m waiting for him. He also knows if he ever wants more than we currently have, he will need to be the one to come to me and ask me for it. That’s all he has to do, and then turn it over to me to handle.
The one thing I will not do is force him to accept us. I can’t. It’s doomed from the start if I try to force it.
Could I order him to be more visible with me? Oh, sure. But at some point, when things turn difficult, I know he’d blow it up and use blaming me as the easy excuse to push me away.
I will be patient. Besides, I love the dumbass. He’s the perfect man for me.
My current employer isn’t exactly happy when I call and give my notice, but they understand. Their unhappiness is due more to losing me and knowing there literally isn’t a dollar amount they can throw at me that would make me not take the job offer. The owner of the company is retired Secret Service, so he gets it.
It’s as close to working The Shift as I’ll ever get again. Like fucking hell will I pass up that chance, even if it is a downgrade in pay for the next several years.
Worth it.
And I have a well-padded savings account.
As a bonus, I know my parents will think it’s totally safe, because I’ll always be surrounded by armed Secret Service agents.
I mean, I won’t but I’ll let them think that.
I went grocery shopping and have everything ready upon Elliot’s arrival. I’m waiting for him with the door open when he walks down the hall. I immediately sweep him inside, where, once the door is securely locked behind him, I pull him into my arms and kiss him before he can even set down his bag. He looks exhausted and is already wearing his glasses, even though when I checked C-SPAN earlier today, video of him in the House chambers showed him wearing his contacts.
He tries to drop to the floor, but I take his bag from him first and hold him. “Guess who’s now the body man to Senator ShaeLynn Samuels for her presidential campaign.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod, feeling practically giddy. “Yeah! Chris Bruunt, my former boss, pointed me her way. Even better? If she’s elected, it’ll mean I’m President Samuels’ body man.” No, I’m not cluing him in about the related logistics. Maybe Elliot can keep a secret but so can I.
His gaze clouds over. “Oh. That’s…great.”
“What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but I don’t let him. “Elliot, talk to me.”
He sighs. “It’s a high-profile job.”
“Not really. Part of my job is staying in the background. It’s almost like getting to work The Shift again.”
“That’s…great. I’m really happy for you.”
I cup the back of his neck and make him look me in the eyes. “This changes nothing between us, pet. Consider it a dry run for when you eventually run for POTUS. I’ll be doing more traveling, sure, but nearly all of
it will be domestic.” Which…gives me an idea.
I’m not sure if he understands how much more difficult a down-low relationship between us would be if I’m not working for him in the White House if he’s elected POTUS.
“Hey.” I gently shake him. “Think of it this way—I’ll know my way around the job already, and I can be your body man when you run.”
That finally wins me the ghost of a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. If I’m your body man, I can be everywhere with you without raising any suspicions. Including hotel rooms, the residence—everywhere. All the time. I could live in the residence with you. Nobody would say anything about it, either.” I mean, I’ll let him think that. It’s a little more complicated than that.
He studies me for a moment. “You’d really want to do that for me?”
“Duh! Of course. You think I want anyone else taking care of my pet, think again.”
For the first time since we’ve started this, I see true hope flare in his eyes, and it breaks my heart.
Because it perfectly illustrates his default mode, which is completely anchored in fear. Anchored as securely as whatever the hell is keeping the Washington Monument vertical.
I hope he doesn’t shatter my heart in the process because of those tethers to a way of life he doesn’t seem able to break free of.
“Everywhere?”
“Yeah. Body man gets full access. Maybe not in the SitRoom sometimes, or during the PDB, but in the White House, the residence, on Air Force One—everywhere you say I can be.”
I feel the subtle shift in him, letting go to me, relaxing a little. “That would be awesome.”
“Right?” I pull him in for another kiss. Yep, I feel him grow more pliant, molding his body against mine. “Then I can finally have my dream job.”
He looks adorably confused.
“Taking care of my pet 24/7/365.” He smiles again at my words. “Buddy, I love you. You know my only requirement. I won’t push you to ask me, and I won’t demand and take it from you. I know you’re not ready right now. It’s all right.”
His head rests on my shoulder. “Why do you put up with me, Master?” he mumbles.
I massage the back of his head with my hand. “Because I love you, pet.” I close my eyes and deeply inhale his warm scent. “Because you’re my pet, I love you, and I’m a very patient man.”
These three statements are completely true.
He’s my pet, and I have dedicated myself to loving and caring for him as much as he’ll let me, because he needs me. I am the keeper of his secrets, the tender of his sanity, and the mender of his soul.
I love this man with all my heart, which is why I’m still here when anyone else probably would have given up and walked away in frustration years ago.
Also, I am a very patient man. I had to be, working The Shift. There were times of unbelievable tedium, where all I could do was be patient and wait, because that was my job.
We move into the bedroom where I help him get naked and remove Duck so he can finally drop to his knees and press his forehead to the tops of my feet.
His reset.
I now have an inexpensive folding walker I keep for him at my apartment, and a shower bench. It’s for safety and makes life easier on him moving around here. He won’t put clothes on again until just before he’s ready to leave late Monday morning, because he doesn’t have to be in the office until almost noon.
I’ve staged them already, the walker on the other side of the bed, where I can reach it to hand it to him, and the bench is in the tub.
I pull his leather collar from my pocket and lean over. “Pet.”
He lifts his head, sees what’s in my hand, and without prompting kisses the collar so I can buckle it around his throat.
Lately, I haven’t pushed the idea of a day collar, even though I’ve mentioned it from time to time. If I can’t trust him to be honest with me, something for him to wear that will stress him out more than it comforts him certainly won’t help any.
All he has to do is ask for one, and he knows this.
Maybe that makes me a dumbass, for hoping he will ask one day, but there you have it. I’ll own that.
I let Elliot kneel there for another couple of minutes so he can relax and center himself. Sure, I’d love to have my cock buried inside him right now, but my poor pet needs this time, even if his current condition is mostly self-inflicted.
He takes a long, deep breath and slowly lets it out as my eyes trace every bump and ridge along his spine, where it curves down to his gorgeous ass. He’s been running more lately, on a treadmill, working out several days a week, and it shows. He’s developing lean muscles that I love tracing with my fingers and tongue while I have him blindfolded and securely bound to my bed. He’s no longer a hardened soldier but a little of the extra softness around his middle has melted away.
And I’m the only one who gets to appreciate him like this.
It’s a damned heady feeling, let me tell you what.
When I softly snap my fingers, he smoothly sits up and rests his head against me. I’m still dressed because this is part of our ritual. I stroke his head with both hands as he kneels there, my good boy.
“I love you, pet.”
He happily sighs. “Love you, too, Master.”
I gently scrub his scalp with my fingers. I can drop him deep into subspace like this, without spanking or tying him. It’ll be an invaluable skill later, when he ascends to a higher office.
Which I have no doubt he will.
I saw the look in Kevin’s eyes when I told them about me and Elliot. The calculation.
They know I can control Elliot, and Chris and Kevin will want someone as VPOTUS whom they have control and leverage over.
Someone who won’t challenge Shae.
Someone who will look good.
Someone with a very sympathetic backstory.
Someone who will help capture votes for her that might otherwise slip through her fingers.
I know the political landscape—it’s DC, for fuck’s sake. I guarantee you I can name most if not all of their short-list. Elliot is, by far, the best one on it.
He can pull in flyover-state voters who are conservative. He’ll catch the eye of white women, and he’ll charm white men who aren’t college-educated. And ones who are, of course. He doesn’t have any kind of baggage regarding POC, meaning while he will have to work to earn their trust and votes, he doesn’t bring anything to the table to automatically put them off, either. The fact that it appears he’s a Christian on the outside will help snag some of them.
I hate to sound so cynical but that’s DC. In fact, it should stand for “District of Cynicism.”
I mean…have you met DC? Really?
I’m sure some of Shae’s opponents will expect her to pick one of them to be her running mate once they start dropping out, especially after Iowa. But, I gotta tell you, of the ones who’ve signaled they’re seriously going to challenge her, none of them are a fraction as good as Elliot. Besides, why would she pick someone to run with her who will constantly have an eye on their next chance to run? For whom every action they take and every word they say will be judged against that future campaign?
Elliot wants to run but he’ll be satisfied to sit back and wait his turn. He’ll be my good boy and be there for Shae.
I wish I could tell him, but I meant my promise not to. Besides keeping my word, I don’t want to accidentally hurt Elliot should they choose someone else.
Best he not know right now. It’d be more stress on him I’m not sure he’s up to handling yet.
When he nuzzles his face against the outline of my cock through my slacks, I know what he wants. I scratch the top of his head. “Go ahead, pet.”
He eagerly unfastens my belt and slacks and frees me from my briefs. My fingers tighten around his head as he deep-throats me and holds me in his throat, just the way he knows I like.
If we lived together, I swear I’d start every damn morning w
ith a blowjob from him. Over our years together, he’s perfected his technique and knows my body every bit as well as I know his.
His blue gaze swivels up to meet mine and even in this moment my heart gives that little thump I always feel when he looks at me like that.
Mine.
“Such a good boy,” I whisper, making him happily moan. I ease up on my grip so he can start moving. He knows not to get me off right now, to only fluff me for a few minutes.
His own cock has hardened as he focuses on me. It’s too easy in these moments to let my fantasies spin out. To imagine what it’d be like waking up next to him every morning.
To imagine putting not a day collar on his wrist but a ring on his finger.
To have him introduce me to people as his husband.
Maybe it’s stupid to torture myself like that but I love him.
I also know I will do anything for him, to protect him, to help him reach his goals. I’d kill or die for him, if required.
I wouldn’t be a very good owner if I didn’t.
Maybe he’ll become POTUS one day, maybe he won’t.
In this moment, he’s on his knees for me. Willingly.
Because he loves me.
Eventually, I make him release me and I strip so we can prepare dinner together. Later, I tie him up and spend the better part of an hour using implements and my hands and teeth to mark him and make him cry.
To force him to let go.
He always feels better after a hard, cathartic cry. He spends most of his life so tightly bound in emotional and mental ways that only when he’s with me he can finally let go.
I’m happy to help him with that.
Pain tolerance is also an issue. He has an incredibly high pain tolerance, meaning he loves it when the darkest side of my sadist comes out to play. In fact, he prefers that. He usually doesn’t want light and fluffy and romantic until our time together is almost up at the end of the weekend.
Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like to be with him all the time, so he doesn’t get so bad.
To be able to have that sweet, playful time with him as the norm, not the exception.
Right now, I’ve flipped him onto his back and tied his hands over his head. His legs, which I’d tied together before, are now free so I have full access to him.
Indiscretion (Inequitable Trilogy Book 1) Page 18