So that’s…that.
He’s not even going to chew on me to mark me tonight. His most common target is my arm or stomach, somewhere he can easily bare and I can easily hide.
He hasn’t done that in a few weeks.
I swallow my feelings, my pain, my anger, my fear—my disappointment and the rejection.
You’d think I’d be used to all of that by now but today’s events leave me feeling raw and emotionally shredded.
After one last kiss, and an I love you, I say good-night and head home via cab. It’d be too damned easy to say fuck it and walk away from Elliot. For numerous reasons, I can’t and won’t do that.
The most important reason being that I love the guy. I’m in love with him. And I promised that I’d never leave him.
He needs me because I’m the only person he trusts to tend his deepest secrets.
Still, after today’s events, a dark, simmering rage burns inside me. One that I need to quash, and quickly.
Rage not at Jordan, and not even at Elliot.
Mostly at the circumstances in general. A rage I need to rid myself of before it burns out of control and I do something stupid, like jettison Elliot.
Yeah, I’m greedy. I want both of them. So?
Seeing what today did to Shae reminds me once again that life is too short. In an ideal world, Elliot, Jordan, and I would openly live our happily ever after, the three of us together.
This is far from an ideal world.
There are too many people ready with quick condemnations and extra fingers to point at anyone who dares not comply with their idea of a “righteous” world. Most of those assholes have plenty of skeletons in their closets, too.
I’m halfway up the first flight of stairs in my building when Elliot texts me that he’s home. I text him good-night and head upstairs.
When I get the door unlocked, Jordan meets me in the hall, naked except for his leather collar and bracelet. Relief fills me to finally be reunited with him.
My sweet boy.
After I close and lock the door and set everything down, I plant a hand in the middle of his chest and pin him to the wall so I can kiss him. I’ve got a heap of stress and anger to purge.
Hooking a finger in the ring on the front of his collar, I lead him to our bedroom. I wasn’t sure what I’d planned to do. Maybe a marathon spanking session, or tying him up and edging and tormenting him.
Instead, I strip and make love to him, taking my time and slowly fucking him, staring into his eyes.
“Who do you belong to?”
His eyes are beautiful, with long fluttering lashes. In this light they look more dark green than hazel. “You, Sir.”
I nuzzle my way along his neck, to his shoulder, down to his bicep where I bite, hard. I nearly always bear at least one mark from my sweet boy.
His fingers dig into the backs of my shoulders, where he’s holding on.
Scooping a hand under his head, I press his mouth against the top of my shoulder. He takes the hint, biting down hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.
That’s my excuse, anyway.
I relish the pain and we stay locked like that for a too-short forever until I finally release him and lick the spot I left on his pale flesh.
I slant my lips over his in a deep, crushing kiss as I start thrusting. His erection’s pinned between us, sliding against me with every stroke, and I want to get him over like this. I want to feel connected to my boy.
I want to bridge that gap between me and Elliot and every day feels like I’m losing him.
Closing my eyes, I think about his blue gaze, his pained moans, his darkest, desperate needs, and, thankfully, Jordan makes it over just before I do. Not moving, I keep kissing him, hoping he can’t feel my tears, praying he doesn’t read my mind.
My sweet, angelic innocent.
He can’t be the love of my life, because Elliot is planted there, and it breaks my heart.
I’m an infatuated idiot, right?
The psychologist has long since given up trying to talk me out of this folly. Of giving myself fully to Jordan and letting my relationship with Elliot die on the vie.
I don’t know when I started sobbing but the next thing I know, Jordan’s holding me, and we’re on our sides, and my boy’s trying to comfort me.
I think of Brad’s last words.
I think of Elliot’s blue eyes.
I think of the way Jordan’s eyes lit up when he smelled the picadillo my mom made for him, sight unseen, with love he’s been denied.
I try to stop thinking, close my eyes, and cry.
Chapter Forty-Five
The alarm goes off way too fucking early the next morning. At some point in the night, Jordan must have cleaned me up, because I have no memory of leaving the bed.
I already smell coffee brewing, but Jordan’s tucked against my side.
And wide awake.
I nuzzle him. “Morning, baby.”
“Good morning, Sir.” His voice doesn’t sound right. Subdued. “Are you all right?”
I sigh. “Yesterday was rough. I need to check in with Chris.”
“I already texted him, Sir. He said Kev’s off the vent, and has been awake and talking.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Good.” I kiss him and sit up. “Are you going in this morning?”
“Yes, Sir. All hands. Comms is overwhelmed. Mr. Bruunt’s still at the hospital. He’s refusing to leave.”
“I’m sure he is. I would be, too, if that was you in that bed.”
“Or Elliot?”
I turn at his tone, studying him. It wasn’t snarky, or bitter, but there was something deeply off-balance about it. “Of course.”
He sits up. “You realize he’s not going to come around, don’t you? About me?” The quiet, resigned way he says it chills my soul.
“You don’t know that, Jor.”
One eyebrow elegantly arches. Without his glasses he looks so much younger than he already is. “It’s been five years, Leo. I know you think he’s going to magically come around and fall for me, but he’s not.”
“He’s under a lot of stress. Especially now. He will.”
Jordan sighs and studies my face for a moment. “I know you love him, Sir. And I know he loves you. He tolerates me because you trust and love me. I might as well be one of his detail.”
“He’s asked you to help him out before, and—”
“Yeah, to do stuff any staffer could do. He does that for you, Leo. Not because he likes me. Because he wants to make you happy. And I do it because I know it makes you happy, but, honestly? As miserable as I know he is about my presence in your life, it makes me feel like shit that I’m stressing him out even more just because we’re both trying to make you happy.”
Stunned, I stare at him. “I thought you liked him.”
“I do! He’s an amazing man. He’s fricking hot, for starters. He’s brilliant, funny, and sweet. But he’s never going to look at me the way he looks at you.”
“What are you saying?”
He strokes my arm. “I don’t want him breaking your heart, that’s all. I don’t want you to get your hopes up that he’ll embrace me as a partner. I’m okay with that. But I hate that I’m an extra stressor in his life. He needs you. When he runs for POTUS, he’s going to need you. And—”
“He hasn’t said he’s going to run.”
“He hasn’t said he’s not, Sir.” He studies me for a moment. “You realize he is going to run, don’t you?”
“No. He hasn’t said that to me.”
“His chief of staff ordered polling data last week.”
That takes me a moment to process. “The midterms are coming up, that’s all.”
“Iowa, New Hampshire, and North Carolina.”
My heart drops. “But we’re over three years from Iowa!”
He stares at me. “You don’t order polling data in those states if you’re not running.”
I feel…gut-punched. He’s right, of course.
/>
Maybe I had talked myself into believing Elliot wasn’t going to run. I don’t know. “Maybe Elliot’s just letting him check things out—”
“Leo, I sat in on a call with Kev and the DNC last week. Kev invited me to his office to listen in. Elliot and his chief of staff were on the call. Elliot never said he wasn’t running. When everyone was talking about future plans, Elliot never said hold up, or that it was contingent upon him running, or predicated on him making a decision, or like he’s just testing the waters. He talked like he’s running.”
“But—”
“They were also floating VPOTUS options. Kev, and Chase Murray from the DNC. They’re already shortlisting people to talk to. That’s part of the polling data they ordered. Kev suggested Elliot shouldn’t officially declare until no sooner than eighteen to twelve months before Iowa, so it keeps everyone on their toes and gives them a better chance to sort through VP candidates. So none of the other contenders get too comfy or assume they’re a shoo-in for the slot.”
There are literally a hundred things I should be doing right now.
As Jordan’s words and their implication echo in my brain, all I can do is stare at Jordan’s hand on my arm, at the chainmail bracelet on his wrist.
My bracelet.
My tangible claim to him.
My only visible claim to him, and it’s not obvious to anyone else what it.s
“Leo,” he gently says, “Elliot’s running. The question is, am I enough for you?”
“What?” I finally meet his gaze.
He’s blinking back tears. “I love you. I was able to agree to this because I know you love me. But I also know you had your heart set on making this a triad. If he’s running, and he’s not accepting me as a partner…there really isn’t a place for me, is there?”
I grab him and kiss him, hard, crushing his lips under mine. “Don’t you dare think that, boy.” Anger fills me. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go. I won’t stop you if you leave, but that’s your decision, not mine. I meant it when I said I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I never lied to you about what I feel for Elliot.”
“I know you didn’t. I’m not saying you did. I also know you had a different outcome in mind.”
He’s not wrong. “He’ll come around. I’ll talk to him.”
“Is that fair to him?”
“What?”
“Leo, we both know Elliot needs you. He’s going to need you when he runs for POTUS. He’ll destroy himself during a campaign of that magnitude, and you and I are probably the only two people on the planet who know that. He’ll blow debates, maybe even on purpose. The stress will eat him alive. I watched his congressional campaign debate footage for his first campaign. It was money, cross-party backing, and endorsements that got him elected to Congress, not his charisma, not his brains, and not his good looks. He got re-elected because he was the incumbent, and he was popular, not because he had to fight for it.
“He did okay in the VP debate the first time around because you were backstage with him. Unless he does an about-face about me before the campaign really winds up, I’m not going to be any help to him. If anything, he’ll do worse with me than with you. If I’m in your life, and stressing him out—”
“Stop.” I grab his head and pull him in for another kiss. I can’t do this today. Shae’s definitely going to need me, and Chris’ office will need Jordan. “You’re mine, and I love you, and that’s it. Understand?”
He finally nods. “Yes, Sir. I love you, too.”
I pull him in for a long, strong hug. “I’m sure I’ll be staying at the hospital tonight so Chris can go home and sleep.” It was the stated plan last night before I came home. “Chris won’t trust anyone else to stay with Kev, and Shae can’t. And Chris won’t leave him alone.”
“It’s all right. I understand. Please tell Kev I hope he feels better soon.”
“Come visit him tonight.”
“Will they let me?”
“Yeah. Once I’m there.” I smile. “Bring me dinner, please? Wear your White House badge.”
One corner of his mouth quirks in a smile. “You told me never to wear my work badge outside of work.”
“Show it to the agents. They’ll escort you up. I’ll leave word.”
He leans in so I can hold him. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
We finally start our day. Jordan fixes our coffee while I get in the shower, and he joins me there. Twenty minutes later, we’re heading to work in a car with a Secret Service agent driving us. It’s not even five a.m. yet and the streets feel…weird.
The city’s on heightened alert because of yesterday and there’s a far more visible than usual presence of Metro PD, Capitol police, SWAT and others from an alphabet-soup of governmental law enforcement agencies.
“It’s eerie,” Jordan says.
“Yeah.” I sip from my travel mug. “It will be for a few days, at least.”
“It feels like they’re all waiting for something else to happen.”
“They are.”
“I thought it was a lone wolf?”
“Supposedly. Until they’re sure, they’ll keep stricter procedures in place.”
He shivers. “We’ve had crashes before, but yesterday was different. I knew it wasn’t a drill or false alarm even before we heard about Kev. ERT was everywhere, and all the agents were jumpy.”
I reach across the seat and hold his hand. “Yeah. They will be for a while. This is personal, to all of them. Even the agents who weren’t with Chris and Kev.”
He squeezes my hand. “I was worried about you and President Samuels, until they gave the all-clear and we found out what happened.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, baby.” I offer a smile I don’t feel. “I’m tough. I survived falling out of the sky, after all.”
Except…I don’t feel very tough right now.
My soul is tender, raw, fragile.
Elliot’s not in yet when we arrive. Jordan heads to his office and I text Elliot good morning as I walk upstairs. There, I find Shae awake and looking stressed out. She’s wrapping up a briefing with one of the NSA advisors, who leaves a moment later.
“Good morning, Madam President.”
She curtly nods. “Leo.”
“Have you had coffee?”
“Not enough.”
“How’s Kev?”
“Asleep. Chris won’t come home.”
“I’ll stay with Kev at the hospital tonight so Chris can have a break. You go take a shower. I’ll get your breakfast ready.”
“Thank you, Leo.” She heads into their bedroom to do that while I go to the kitchen and start preparations. Chris usually cooks everyone breakfast. While sometimes the staff is asked to do it, they prefer breakfasts to be family time whenever possible. When Chris is home, he usually makes dinner, too.
The kids aren’t slated to be up for at least an hour yet, but I’ll cook for them, too, if Shae wants me to.
“Oh, Leo.”
I turn to find Shae in the kitchen doorway. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you please go to the school today with Yasmine and the kids?”
That confuses me. “Yes, ma’am. But—”
“Chris and I would feel better if you’re there. Then, once they’re home, you can go home and get what you need for tonight before going to the hospital.”
When POTUS asks you to do something, it’s not a suggestion, unless she specifically tells you it’s just a suggestion.
Even then, it’s usually an order.
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
She offers me a tired smile, then steps into the kitchen, gives me a quick hug, and leaves again.
I have my orders, I suppose. It also means I won’t get to spend any time with Elliot today.
My earlier conversation with Jordan flashes through my mind.
Maybe it’s better I don’t spend time with Elliot today until I’ve had a chance to talk to Kev.
Why does this fee
l…bad?
Why does it feel like there’s something I’m missing? Some vital piece of the puzzle that’s going to bring my world down around me?
Why do I have this horrible sensation that everything I love is slipping through my fingers?
* * * *
Today is blissfully hiccup-free. There’s a larger than usual agent presence at the school, but they’re dressed in regular street clothes, like they’re parents or teachers, so that they don’t freak out the other kids and their parents.
Yasmine sits in the girls’ classroom while I stay with Hudson. I love the kids but Hudson’s my little buddy, and while I wish I could sit down and talk to Elliot today, this is important.
I have a job to do, and people counting on me.
Jordan’s busy, too, helping with the tsunami of media requests inundating Comms today. So even after I escort the kids home after school, I don’t get to see Jordan. He’s not in his office when I stop by.
I leave a little sticky note on his desk with a smiley-faced heart on it.
I’m almost home when he texts me a heart in reply.
Jordan’s going to be at work late, but he promises to take a car from the White House to the hospital. He can get me dinner from the White House Mess and bring it. I finally arrive at the hospital to find Chris looking like absolute shit, but at least Kev is awake.
“Go home, Chris,” I tell him. “I’ll stay with him all night.”
Although I totally get it. Kev belongs to him. If that were Elliot or Jordan lying in that hospital bed, it’d take an act of Congress to pry me out of that room.
Kev turns his head to look at Chris. “Chris, go home and sleep. Please. Make Shae eat. Tell her I said so.” Come to think of it, she didn’t eat more than a bite or two of her breakfast. She had a similar incident after Lauren’s murder, where it took several days, and Kevin’s help, to get her to eat.
Another reason Chris is protective is due to Kev’s father, an asshole congressman with an agenda. He’s already been banned from the hospital after an appearance yesterday.
“I’ll keep his father out,” I assure Chris. “Don’t worry. And Kev’s been issued full protection by the Director. He has his own detail now. They’ll be here, too. They’re on the way.”
Indiscretion (Inequitable Trilogy Book 1) Page 44