Those fingers pressed up inside him and tapped against his prostate, sending sparks zinging up his spine. Sean shivered and let out a breathy little “Ah!” as he rose up onto the balls of his feet to try to escape the touch. Alexei very casually put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down onto his fingers.
“Yes,” Sean moaned, clenching around Alexei’s touch.
“Good,” Alexei growled, practically in his ear. “What else?”
Sean swallowed, trying to remember the few times he’d given in to the urge to get off while undercover, fingers buried in his ass as he stroked his cock hard and fast, coming with Alexei’s name on his lips and the phantom memory of hands on his body.
“I’d jack off,” he panted. “Wouldn’t stop until I came.”
Alexei’s hand wrapped around his cock, giving him a firm tug. “Like this?”
Sean nodded frantically, staring at Alexei in the mirror as he tried to hold himself up against the onslaught of sensation coursing through his body. “Yes.”
“You miss me?” Alexei asked, playing Sean’s body the way Sean could play his guitar—with knowing, practiced hands.
Sean turned his head, nose pressing against Alexei’s cheek. He swallowed thickly, rocking between the fingers in his ass and the hand stroking his cock. “Every minute.”
Alexei swore before letting Sean go. Sean stared at their reflections in the mirror, ass twitching as Alexei pulled his fingers out. Then the fat head of his cock pressed against Sean’s hole and Sean didn’t blink as Alexei pushed in.
“Oh, fuck!” he cried out. “Lyosha!”
He rose up on the balls of his feet as Alexei didn’t stop, didn’t go slow, tangling his hand in Sean’s hair to pull his head back a little, gray eyes locked with his. Sean’s spine curved, his body a taut arch as Alexei fucked in and in until Sean could practically taste him.
Alexei kept him there for a few seconds more before he pulled out just enough that Sean could sink back down on his heels. He barely had time to brace himself before Alexei slammed back into him with a heavy grunt, making him rise up on his feet a little again.
It felt so good to finally have Alexei’s cock in him that Sean knew he wouldn’t last all that much longer. A month away felt like an eternity he didn’t want to remember. Neither, it seemed, did Alexei, because he never stopped. Feet planted wide, hands holding Sean tight, Alexei drilled into him with focused intent. The sound of skin slapping against skin was drowned out by Sean’s increasingly louder cries that echoed in the small bathroom.
Sean didn’t remember if they’d set the soundproofing or not, and didn’t particularly care. Alexei liked it when he was loud, liked knowing how he made Sean feel—good and warm and wanted, split open on Alexei’s thick cock, never wanting to leave.
When Alexei wrapped his fingers around Sean’s cock, rubbing his thumb over the wet head, it was too much. Sean only lasted through two strokes, coming with a yell that was probably more like a scream, his voice ringing through the air as Alexei continued to fuck his way through Sean’s orgasm.
Sean moaned, elbows buckling a little, but one of Alexei’s muscled arms wrapped around his torso and held him up. Alexei pressed against him, still fucking into him at that same relentless pace. Sean pushed back against him weakly, trying to meet his thrusts, but it wasn’t very long before Alexei was coming with a groan, face pressed against the curve of Sean’s shoulder. He shoved his cock into Sean a few more times, sloppily losing the rhythm as he bit at warm skin.
Sean tried to hold them both up, but his legs were feeling a little shaky, and his throat was dry like he’d run a four-minute mile. He leaned his head against Alexei’s, breathing heavily. “I think we need another shower.”
Alexei chuckled, low and amused, before moving to press a kiss to the back of Sean’s sweaty neck, his mouth a hot brand. “Should wait. Want to dirty you up again.”
The promise in his voice made Sean’s cock give a valiant little twitch. “Okay.”
As if he would ever say no to Alexei about anything.
5
This War of Patricians
Chicago in mid-autumn wasn’t as cold as it historically used to be, but its nickname as the Windy City still held true. The wind whipping off Lake Michigan was that teeth-chattering bluster that found its way through even the thickest of coats. Luckily, Jamie and Kyle had only been outside for the couple of minutes it took to pick up the rental Jamie’s father had arranged to have waiting for him at O’Hare International Airport.
Katie had come along with them for the Saturday afternoon flight on his private jet, opting to spend time with her mother since their regulatory days off kept being interrupted. At least she hadn’t missed her date the other night with Matthew, for which Jamie was grateful. One of them should have a nice night out, and since it couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t begrudge her that chance. The only reason Kyle was along for this trip was to reinforce the illusion they were still a couple for the mission, even if no comment would be made to any inquiries regarding Jamie’s relationship status.
His father didn’t know Kyle was his lover, and Jamie would maybe feel bad about that if the situation were different. Senator Richard Callahan was in the midst of a presidential campaign run where early polls favored him to win the Republican nomination, with a strong chance of winning the presidency next year. The primaries were just a few months away, and the last thing Richard needed or wanted was a love scandal involving Jamie and his subordinate on top of the fabricated lies the MDF was spinning around the Callahan family name.
Jamie was here to add one more layer of lies to everything going on.
“You’re certain Cillian and Declan are working together, sir?” Jamie asked as he stared out the windshield.
Kyle braked to a stop at the red light, looking over at Jamie with worried green eyes. Katie had set up an encrypted uplink with headquarters on the rental car before getting dropped off, and the director’s voice came through the speakers loud and clear.
“That’s what the latest intel points to,” Nazari said.
Jamie clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, rubbing hard at his forehead. Stress headaches were few and far between due to his enhanced durability, but it felt like he should have one right about now.
“What’s our course of action?”
“We aren’t deviating from the Pavluhkin mission yet, so the meeting with your father is still on. Safety measures are being put in place for the Dvorkin and Delaney families.”
“Understood, sir. Is there any news on Cillian and Declan’s whereabouts?”
“None at the moment. We’ve reached out to Interpol to see if they have any leads, and we’re digging through chatter within our own border. The Sons of Adam have been quiet lately, which I don’t like.”
Before she died, Valerie Hayes had been a leader and figurehead for that domestic terror group. Jamie knew there was a high chance that her secret marriage to Declan could have transferred that group’s loyalty to him. If Declan had the backing of that large of a terror group on top of the ex-Special Forces people who’d thrown their lot in with him, the trouble they could start would be deadly.
“None of us do, sir.”
“Report in after your meeting with your father, Callahan.”
“Yes, sir.” The uplink cut off and Jamie leaned his head against the seat. “Shit.”
“Pretty much,” Kyle said, eyes back on the road as he drove.
Jamie’s skill in being able to fit together the smallest of details into a larger picture had aided him well on the battlefield and in maneuvering through his father’s political ambitions over the years. But his deduction skills weren’t enough to outmaneuver a precog who had past dealings with one of the terrorists on the run. Being at the enemy’s mercy wasn’t something any of them liked.
Kyle didn’t try to draw Jamie into a conversation on the drive to the Waldorf Astoria where Jamie’s parents were staying, for which he was grateful. He had enough on his
mind as it was. His father’s political fundraiser tonight was a dinner event at The Signature Room at the 95th, a restaurant on the ninety-fifth floor of the historical John Hancock skyscraper. The campaign had reserved the entire restaurant for the private dinner, which started in a couple of hours.
He was not looking forward to it.
Late-afternoon traffic was never enjoyable, but Kyle guided them through the mess with a sure hand while Jamie caught up on his emails on his personal tablet. Both of them were in suits for the fundraiser, their wool coats draped over the middle seat of the SUV. Kyle had stashed a gun in both the glove compartment and the front console that separated the seats. Jamie wasn’t letting Kyle carry a gun in the suit he wore since it would attract too much attention, but he hadn’t protested the ceramic knives Kyle had armed himself with.
The Waldorf Astoria was located a block away from Chicago’s Magnificent Mile, the trendy area of Michigan Avenue. As they turned down the street where the luxury hotel’s entrance was, Jamie’s attention caught on a number of men and women in drab suits patrolling the area.
“Those don’t look like your dad’s private security,” Kyle commented as he turned left into the private entrance.
“They aren’t.”
Kyle drove into a small courtyard, maneuvering around the central raised garden platform to reach the sliding plas-glass doors where the valet and bellhop workers stood ready to assist. Mixed in amongst the hotel workers were a few more people in suits, their laser-like attention focused on the SUV.
“Should I bring my gun?” Kyle asked as he set the parking brake and turned off the engine.
“No,” Jamie replied as he undid his seatbelt and got out.
Kyle got out, code-keys in hand, and would have given them to the nearest valet, except one of the men in suits stepped forward.
“I’ll take that, sir,” the man said.
“I don’t know you,” Kyle retorted as Jamie came around the SUV.
Jamie placed a hand on Kyle’s shoulder, drawing him back a little. “Who are you?”
“Special Agent Hardison, sir,” the man calmly replied. “I’m with the United States Secret Service.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow at that announcement, managing to keep the surprise off his face, if just barely. He shared a silent look with Kyle before the younger man relinquished the code-keys.
“We can escort you to your family, sir,” a second special agent said.
Jamie nodded stiffly. “Please do so.”
The Waldorf Astoria was one of Jamie’s favorite hotels, the one he stayed in when he got invited to some of Katie’s family’s gatherings. This time, however, he barely noticed any of the grand design and elegant furniture inside the hotel’s stately walls, all his attention focused on the fact his father had Secret Service protection before becoming the official Republican nominee. While that wasn’t unprecedented, an early grant by the agency to deploy its special agents meant a credible threat had been made against his father and Jamie hadn’t been informed.
Jamie wasn’t pleased with that detail.
More Secret Service special agents patrolled the elevator banks and the short hallway on the twenty-sixth floor that led to the Presidential Suite. Jamie palmed open the door without knocking, stepping into the grand, two-bedroom suite with Kyle by his side.
Charlotte Jacqueline Callahan, née Montgomery, looked away from the aide updating her about something to do with the campaign to grace Jamie with a welcoming smile. “Hello, Jamie.”
“Mother,” Jamie said in a neutral voice as he approached her.
She pulled him into a brief hug, her slight frame practically swallowed up in his arms. Charlotte was a gorgeous woman in her mid-fifties who looked much younger than her actual age. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a fancy up-do for dinner, even if the dress she wore wasn’t the one she’d wear to the fundraiser.
“What’s going on?” Jamie asked as they parted.
Charlotte reached out to smooth down the lapels of his suit jacket before patting his shoulder. “I assume you’re asking about the Secret Service?”
“Father didn’t have federal protection even a week ago.”
Charlotte crossed her slim arms over her chest and sighed. “It’s a recent development.”
“How recent? Why wasn’t I informed?”
“Because they only arrived yesterday morning.” Charlotte’s gaze tracked away from Jamie to settle on Kyle, her expression remaining calm. “I was under the impression Katie would be joining us for the fundraiser tonight.”
“Something came up. In fact, I need to update both you and Father.” Jamie placed his hand on Kyle’s back and guided him forward a step. “You’ve met Kyle before.”
“Once, briefly,” Charlotte replied. “I’ve seen more of him from the gossip sites than I have in person. It’s been a headache trying to get that narrative under control.”
Kyle’s expression didn’t change, but Jamie could feel him go a little rigid beneath his hand. He wanted desperately to let Kyle know that his mother was displeased with the situation and not them, but truthfully, Jamie didn’t know if that was true or not. His mother had always been rather bullish on keeping the family’s name off of the gossip sites unless it painted them in the spotlight she wanted them to shine in. Charlotte had cut her teeth on how to manipulate the media as a child, and he knew the Pavluhkin mission didn’t sit well with her for many reasons.
“Ma’am,” Kyle said quietly before glancing at Jamie. “I’ll stay out here to give you guys some privacy.”
“I’ll keep you company, Kyle,” a new voice piped up.
Jamie looked over to his right as his younger sister came out of the second bedroom. Leah Callahan was tall and thin, a socialite who was at the forefront of fashion and who had been on the covers of quite a few fashion magazines over the years. She’d turned twenty-six a few months back, and for once, Jamie had been present for her birthday party. He’d spent most of the evening warning off potential suitors with a battlefield-worthy glare until Leah had smacked him on the arm and declared he was spoiling her night. After that, he only glared when she wasn’t looking.
Leah’s long blonde hair was curled and pinned up for tonight’s dinner, the delicate pins and combs dotted with diamonds and trailing long strands of pearls. Jamie assumed it was the latest trend and didn’t comment on how silly he thought it looked.
“Leah,” Jamie said, turning to give her a hug. “How are you?”
“Getting tired of being on the road so much and this campaign isn’t even close to being over.” Leah smiled at Kyle. “Nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you too, Leah,” Kyle replied.
The smile Kyle graced her with was easy and real. They’d initially gotten off on the wrong foot back in January when they first met, but Leah eventually got over her anger at the situation. She was the only one of Jamie’s family who knew that he and Kyle were together beyond the needs of a mission. She’d come by for dinner a few times during summer around missions and gotten to know Kyle. It meant a lot to Jamie that Leah approved of his relationship, and he was glad he’d have her in his corner when he eventually broke the news to his parents.
Whether or not his parents approved of Kyle wouldn’t stop Jamie from marrying him. Of course, Jamie still needed to ask, but that was neither here nor there. He’d find the perfect moment at some point. It’s not like he was getting cold feet or anything.
Really.
“Your father is in the office,” Charlotte said, waving aside the aide who had been hovering politely off to the side. “Let’s go speak with him.”
Kyle gave him an encouraging nod before giving Leah his full and undivided attention. Jamie followed his mother toward where the master bedroom was housed. The office was right next to it, a small room decked out in comfortable leather furniture and a public terminal he knew his father would never touch. His family always brought their own electronic monitoring devices and jammers to ensure their pri
vacy, along with their own computers.
Senate Majority Leader Richard Callahan was in the middle of a conversation with a balding man in a suit, laughing over some detail they found funny. His father was an imposing man born out of a background of wealth and power, and who always seemed disappointed that Jamie wasn’t following in his footsteps. That’s not to say Richard hadn’t tried to get him into politics, because Jamie’s entire family had attempted to cajole him out of the MDF and back into civilian life over the years. He’d declined every time, believing his duty to the country was better served through fighting—first with the Marine Corps and now with the MDF.
His father had other ideas, which made the conversation they were about to have more than a little fraught.
“Father,” Jamie said as the door slid shut on their heels. “Why do you have Secret Service protection?”
“Ah, Jamie. So good of you to find the time to join us,” Richard said with a pleasant smile that didn’t mean anything to Jamie. He’d seen that mask on his father’s face many times before. “Allow me to introduce you to Special Agent Lawrence Sanderson. He’s in charge of the security detail assigned to us and any additional agents that may be needed.”
“Us,” Jamie echoed, not liking the sound of that at all. “You don’t need Secret Service protection, Father. You have private security.”
“Things change, Mr. Callahan,” Lawrence said with a professional smile directed Jamie’s way.
Jamie eyed his father. “Apparently.”
“Lawrence, if you’ll excuse us?” Richard said, gesturing for Jamie to come closer.
“Certainly, Senator,” Lawrence said.
Jamie didn’t move, forcing the other man to walk around him to reach the door. Charlotte raised an eyebrow at his attitude, but no one said anything until they were alone in the office. Jamie checked that the soundproofing was activated before slipping the electronic jammer Katie had given him out of his suit pocket. He set it on the small table near the door, turned it on, waited a couple of seconds to make sure it was operational, then focused on his parents.
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