by Clancy Nacht
Then Zane pulled out and peeled off his condom to toss it aside and jerk himself with his spunk-slick fingers. With a ragged groan, Zane rubbed his head against Elton’s ass, tracing the welts with his slit, painting them with precum. Just seeing himself there—the belt marks, the glistening traces of white—made something clench and twist deep in Zane’s gut. He fought the urge to do more than follow the script, to take and claim and have.
Elton wasn’t his to have. It was a crazy, crazy thought, and Zane pushed it away violently, choking his cock harder to banish it.
Licking his lips, he stared at Elton’s pert cheeks, his well-used little hole, and dug deep into his own fantasies, willing it to be enough. His mind flashed on a dozen favorite scenarios, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the pale, sweaty man in front of him.
Elton caught Zane’s gaze, and suddenly Zane couldn’t look away. He bit the inside of his cheek and fucked his hand harder, staring into those gorgeous blue eyes, and then he was coming, spending on Elton’s reddened cheeks. It was too intimate. Zane closed his eyes as he finished, hollowed out in some vital, awful way.
When he was done, he focused on Elton’s ass, rubbing the cum in like he’d promised to do, and tried to regain his game face.
Elton collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily through hisses. His face was almost as red as his ass. There was a dazed, dreamy quality to the way that Elton gazed at Zane beyond the usual afterglow look.
Zane was used to clients falling for him. It didn’t happen all the time, but it happened with enough frequency that Zane had others to refer clients to if they got too close. What Zane wasn’t used to was reciprocation. Something had shifted inside him, and that couldn’t stand.
He needed to pull himself together or he would be forced to send Elton away. Zane worried if he did that, Elton was so new to doing this, he might not call another person.
Zane looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost midnight, their two hours nearly up. He didn’t try to hide the glance either, making certain Elton knew their time was coming to an end. They both needed to remember this wasn’t a date, that Zane’s time was bought and paid for.
It wasn’t like Zane to get caught up in a session, especially with such mild kink going on. Things with Elton felt far more intense than they had any right to.
Still, he had to finish out his time, leave his customer happy, so he crawled up the bed to stretch out beside Elton and gave him a lazy smile. “So, was I right about the toys?”
“You were. You’re so smart.” Elton gave a satisfied sigh before he kissed Zane with almost painful sweetness. Was he doing that on purpose?
Elton smoothed his fingers through Zane’s hair, giving him a little scratch. “I know, it’s last call. I had a really good time. I mean, obviously. But it’s nice to...you know, try things out.”
He reached back to the nightstand, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed a grouping of bills that he handed to Zane. Zane wasn’t tacky enough to count the money in front of Elton, especially since he’d been tipped last time. He accepted the bills, kissed Elton again, and then stood to get dressed.
As he pulled on his clothes, he gave Elton a lingering once-over. “Should I expect to hear from you again?”
“Of course.” Elton smiled sweetly and stretched out on the bed on his side. His cock rested soft and sated against his leg. “I’ll try to make it sooner rather than later. Is it better if I let you know if things come up? I hesitate to book a regular time. My schedule can get crazy.”
“I only need to know your schedule when you can’t make an appointment.” Zane smoothed his suit pants and neatly stowed the toys again. What Elton was offering... That was a lot closer to dating than having sessions. Zane had to make the distinction clear. But he smiled faintly to soften it and raised an eyebrow at Elton. “I’ll be looking forward to our next, whenever it is. Just contact me with your availability, and I’ll work you in.”
Hear that, Elton? Work you in among all the other men I’m fucking. This isn’t a thing we can have, and I’m not someone you can keep.
“All right.” Elton’s brow furrowed briefly and then he pulled a pillow over his naked body. His expression radiated awkwardness and shame before it shut down completely. “All right. See you when I see you.”
Maybe that was a little too far. Balancing between professional detachment and the kind of wish-fulfillment intimacy Elton clearly needed strained Zane. Could he handle losing this client? Sure. He made plenty already, and with all his coursework, he could use two extra hours now and then.
Did he want to lose this client?
No. Not if he were honest.
Zane sighed and moved toward Elton, completely dressed now and ready to go, money pocketed. He looked into Elton’s gorgeous blue eyes, now dark with distress, and then grasped him by the chin, tipping up his face toward Zane’s.
“You were amazing tonight,” Zane said sincerely, smiling. Then he leaned in to kiss him gently and whispered against his lips, “Don’t leave me hanging, all right? There’s so much more I want to do with you.”
Elton’s brow wrinkled again, but he nodded. He seemed confused. “Sure.”
Now Zane was even less sure Elton would call back than he had been before. What could Zane do? Too much more and Elton would definitely get the wrong idea.
God, maybe this just wasn’t for Elton. He’d certainly been a surprise from the start. He obviously had good intentions about protecting sex workers, but that didn’t mean he was cut out for seeing one.
“All right, honey.” Zane stroked the side of Elton’s cheek tenderly, briefly, and then started for the door. “Later.”
Then Zane stepped out into the hallway, neatened his suit, and wondered if showing up looking like himself hadn’t started this all down the wrong path from the start. Too late now.
Chapter 4
Upton stayed the night at the hotel, though he didn’t sleep very well. He did his best to clean up the mess he’d made on the bedspread, then left cash for the cleaning service as he usually did, but a little more because he felt bad for what they had to deal with. He’d meant to lay out a towel for that, but he’d been so startled by Zane in a suit that he’d gotten wrapped up in the sex and forgot.
Not that his was likely the only DNA they had to deal with that day, but the least he could do was leave them a tip.
He’d showered before bed, but showered again, then put on a fresh suit. It seemed far less peculiar to show up at a hotel with bags than without them, though he thought he detected a puzzled look on the clerk’s face when he checked in. There could be a variety of reasons why someone was staying in a hotel in a city they lived in. He chose not to explain, thinking that would seem more suspicious.
Even so, something felt off when he walked through the hotel lobby in the morning. Something had felt off the night before with Zane, too. It had been wonderfully exciting to test his limits. Just thinking about the luxuriant feel of his cock between Zane’s thighs as his ass was swatted…
But then it seemed to end so strangely. Upton had asked what he thought was a question about protocol with schedules and Zane had seemed exasperated. Maybe he’d crossed the line. He’d wanted to be considerate, but maybe Upton had also been taking the whole, “I missed you,” line too seriously.
While there had been moments with Zane that had felt very intimate, Upton had to remember that it was by design. Maybe Zane enjoyed what they did together, or maybe it was about as exciting as being a barista but he had to put on a happy face.
Just thinking about the whole thing made Upton feel humiliated and disgusted with himself. Sure, Zane was putting himself on offer for money. It seemed like a fair exchange, but was it?
Upton wasn’t sure if he would or even should call Zane again. Not for that.
He drove to his office, slightly late after having to check out.
His aides eyed him, some snickering and some looking baleful. Was he walking strangely? The pain in his
ass had pretty much faded overnight; it couldn’t be that bad.
The knot in his stomach tightened. It was ridiculous to believe they could all tell what he’d been up to. He’d felt that way before, when he first understood he was attracted to other boys; he’d thought for sure everyone was quietly laughing about it.
They weren’t. At least, not until a few years later when he was outed by the press not long after his father was shot.
Sometimes, when Upton felt paranoid, he would ponder morbidly whether his being gay was part of why his dad was shot. His father had been working on two pieces of contentious legislation. While the man who murdered him had confessed the reason was the abortion bill, that Alistair Bennett had also been working on a gay marriage bill at the time weighed heavily on Upton’s conscience.
Upton went to his office and shut the door. Those two pieces of legislation had died with his father, leaving only Supreme Court precedents where Congress should have acted. His dad had been a Senator. Upton was far less powerful as a junior member of the House, but he was doing his damnedest to fill his dad’s shoes.
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone. The screen read, “Candice Tinsley-Bennet,” his mother.
“Mom?”
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
Upton blinked, then scrambled for his scheduler. No, it wasn’t her birthday. It wasn’t a holiday. His schedule was mostly filled with meetings and donor calls. His mom didn’t figure into much of his day. “Um. I love you?”
“That’s nice, dear.” She chuckled. Her voice was low and ever calm, which made her difficult to read, though he was positive she didn’t call him for that affirmation. “Where were you last night?”
“Where was I last night?” Shit. The words came out before Upton could even stop himself. The first sign of lying was to repeat the question to stall for time.
“You saw a man.” Apparently, she didn’t want to play the excuse game, which was a relief in some ways, but how she found out and how much she knew made him want to vomit.
“Yes.”
“A man that’s apparently been seen with a lot of other powerful men, yet isn’t recognized as a lobbyist.”
Her tone remained mostly neutral, but it was pointed. Of course it was. She knew. She had to know. She had too much experience with men in her life who saw sex workers not to. “How?”
“Gossip rags. It’ll hit national news soon enough. Why, Upton?”
Why wasn’t a question Upton had wanted to ask himself. Having his mother ask was nigh unbearable. “Mom…”
“You inherited so much from your father. I hadn’t thought that genetics would leave you predisposed to—”
“That’s not… It’s complicated!”
“You sound just like him. Oh, Upton. I had visions for you. You had visions for yourself. You know this is the same sort of scandal that dogged your father’s political career. He could’ve been president. You… You were going to be the first gay president!”
Upton exhaled, trying to control his emotions. He knew of her aspirations for him. He shared them. If this was out, then it really might be all over. But how? “Yes, I saw someone, but unless someone was recording in the room, we couldn’t have been seen together.”
“That won’t matter, Upton. Not for you. Not if that man comes out and…”
“He won’t. He would never.”
“That’s what your father thought about Vanessa.”
Right. His dad’s sex scandal. The one that tanked his presidential run. “Zane’s not like Vanessa. He’s a grad student at Georgetown. He just does it to pay for school. He wants to be in politics; he wouldn’t say anything.”
“A whore told you all of that?”
“Mom!”
She sighed. He knew she had a difficult time with sex workers since his dad had cheated on her. It had been humiliating for a Tinsley—another political family—to have to stand by her man through all that. She had never run for office, but her connections and the frequent need to bail her own family out of scandal had given her a lucrative career as a political consultant, sometimes fixer. “How do you know what he said to you is even true? His name probably isn’t really Zane.”
Shamefully, Upton knew that his name wasn’t Zane, but Sloan. Upton hadn’t investigated Sloan on purpose. He’d simply run into an old friend of his dad’s who had quite innocently tried to network on Sloan’s behalf. He hadn’t seen a picture, but the way that the man had spoken of his appearance… It seemed as if he was trying to matchmake as much as set up an internship.
Washington was such a small world.
“No, his name is Sloan. It’s true. At least, what he’s studying is true. He wants to be an LGBT activist. His name getting dragged through this…”
“You need to think about your name. Who else is he fucking?”
“I don’t know.”
Candice exhaled heavily again. “He could be in real trouble. His photograph is everywhere.”
“Shit!”
“Language.” Her fingernails tapped against her phone. “Let me do some digging. Come home. Bring your...friend.”
The line went dead.
Judging by her tone, she didn’t mean the D.C. condo, but the mansion in Bethesda.
He stared at his phone and realized belatedly it was difficult to read because his hand was shaking. Why was he so nervous and upset over a scandal? How many had he been through?
But God, if Sloan did talk, that would be it. Who would vote for a politician who liked to get spanked?
Pull it together.
Upton took a deep breath and then texted Sloan. “We need to talk. Please contact me.”
Within a minute, his phone rang. The caller ID showed the Zane number Upton had to assume wasn’t Sloan’s own. When Upton answered, Sloan said, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
He sounded scared, anxious, nothing like the soothing, teasing man Upton had spent time with.
“Hey, it’s all right. It’s…you know…my life.” Upton gave a wry smile no one would see. He wanted to apologize for the roller coaster ride Sloan was about to be taken on, but surely he knew. It had been a while since Upton was all over the tabloids. He’d been such a good boy. Such a good boy. Now this. “The thing is, and I’m not going to ask you about your other clients, but… should they smell danger, it could be… not great.”
Upton didn’t want to scare Sloan, but he did want him to take this seriously. “My mom would like us both to go to the house in Bethesda. She’s the best there is in fixing this sort of thing. She said I should bring you.”
“I already got emails from...some not happy people associated with some clients.” Sloan sounded like he was trying to hold it together, his breathing slow and even and then going ragged again. “This is it for me. I’m ruined. I’m not... And no one will miss me if I disappear.”
After a few moments of panicked near-silence, Sloan said, “I saw the... This morning, I saw. I never left the house. I’ve been hunkered down trying to figure out the next move. I don’t... I haven’t got a car, and transit’s not a great idea right now. I’ll text you my address.”
Then he hung up. Thirty seconds later, Upton had an apartment address near Dupont Circle.
Upton got up. His aides scattered and kept their heads down.
They knew. That made it easy.
“Cancel my appointments.”
“What should I…”
He held up his hands. Now was not the time. Upton wasn’t the sort of person to yell, but he could be terse when stressed or passionate. He didn’t want to bleed his hurt and rage all over them. They didn’t deserve it.
He’d fucked up.
As he headed through the halls, he thought everyone was staring at him, laughing. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. He didn’t want to think about it. Right now, he had to get to Sloan.
No one will miss me if I disappear.
The words were chilling. He’d wanted to tell Sloa
n that wasn’t true, but who the fuck was Upton to him, anyway, other than the person who ruined him? He got to his car, blowing off people who were greeting him. He couldn’t take the concerned faces. At the best of times it would’ve been annoying to deal with, but with Sloan afraid, Upton needed to get to him.
He peeled out and headed to the address in a neighborhood he knew well. This probably wasn’t going to be great. Media hadn’t gathered yet, at least as far as he could see, but he didn’t know how long it would be before Sloan’s address was common knowledge.
Upton drove into the parking garage and found a spot to idle near an elevator. He texted Sloan where he was. “Ready to go.”
A few minutes passed. Then the elevator opened, and Sloan stepped out wearing a beautifully tailored, slim-cut black suit that highlighted his long limbs and broad shoulders. The soft white dress shirt was unbuttoned partway and worn without a tie, chic and casual like he had no one to impress. Like paparazzi weren’t just dying to get his picture. Even his hair looked magazine cover worthy, right down to perfectly groomed stubble. If it wasn’t for the caged animal look in his eyes, Upton might’ve thought he was doing great.
Sloan approached the car warily, ducking his head to check who was driving. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a half-hearted smile, and then he climbed into the passenger side. He closed and locked the door, exhaled heavily, and then turned those big dark eyes on Upton like he was going to the gallows.
“Bethesda, huh? Going to see your mom? That’s not how I envisioned my day playing out, but it’s a huge improvement over ending up in a landfill.” Sloan held out his hand. “Sloan McInnis. I’d say it’s a pleasure, Mr. Bennett, but I do wish we were meeting under other circumstances.”
Upton offered his hand and gave it a shake as if they were truly meeting for the first time. “Of course. I don’t know what happened, either. Media hasn’t been this fascinated with me in a while; thought I’d finally bored them enough.”
He exhaled heavily, then focused on getting his car into gear and getting them out. “Guess it was a good thing I stayed the night at the hotel. They probably had my condo staked out. Harder to get through security at work. Not worth it unless they know for sure there’s a story.”