The Congressman's Whore
Page 18
He offered a bite of cake to Sloan, brow raised. Maybe it was the champagne talking, but Upton was definitely interested. He pressed the cake forward enough to make a small mess of Sloan’s mouth, then as Sloan chewed, Upton leaned in and lapped at the frosting. left on Sloan’s lower lip.
Sloan groaned softly and chased after Upton’s mouth as he pulled away, kissing him fervently and making Upton’s toes curl. It had been too long—months now—and with the champagne going to his head, Upton couldn’t fight the butterflies. As Sloan broke the kiss, he gazed into Upton’s eyes, looking dazed amid the wolf whistles and applause.
Sierra shouted something like, “Get it!” and Sloan’s face turned red. He ducked his head and then slipped his arm around Upton’s shoulders, holding him close as they shared the rest of their cake, taking turns feeding each other. It felt strangely intimate, like they were in their own tiny world while people moved around them, touching their shoulders, wishing them well.
The musicians changed songs, beginning to play an instrumental cover of an old Sinatra classic that cued an exodus to the dancefloor. By now the moon was high in the sky, and ornate candelabras surrounded the terrace on all sides. The lake reflected the warm light from the villa and the stars’ colder light, its waves dark and bright by turns as they lapped along the shore and flowed across to the distant bank, its gentle mountains wreathed in mist.
Sloan held Upton’s hand, smiling at him with something unreadable behind his dark eyes. His bronzed skin glowed golden in the candlelight, his hair falling in tousled waves around his face from how Upton couldn’t keep his hands out of it all night. Maybe this wasn’t the marriage Upton had dreamed of, but Sloan looked the part, and right now he was leaning in to kiss Upton again like he wanted to do it, like he was as distracted by the sight of Upton’s mouth as he was by Sloan’s.
The kiss lingered, deeper than the others with Sloan licking his way into Upton’s mouth. Lemon, lavender, and champagne teased Upton’s senses, filling his head, as Sloan slipped his hands beneath Upton’s tuxedo jacket to touch him through his shirt, palming Upton’s back and pulling him nearer. That close, Sloan’s body crushed into his, and Upton felt him pressed hard against his hip.
Upton moaned softly, swept away by the touches, the tastes, the utter romance, and then the more pressing concern of Sloan’s obvious interest. Maybe they were both tipsy and this was just a physical manifestation of all the closeness, but Upton wanted to feel desired. He pressed back against Sloan, arms around his neck as they danced their way to the middle of the balcony. It was their first dance, and Upton led by instinct and muscle memory from so many dance lessons. Sloan kept up gracefully even though they barely broke for breath, as if everyone else had gone.
There was a pop, followed by more cracks. Upton opened his eyes and saw the sky illuminated by shimmering lights. Fireworks exploded high above them in bursts of white, purple, and blue. As beautiful as it was, Upton’s gaze returned to Sloan, who stared intently at Upton as if nothing else mattered as much.
Upton closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, catching the wave of intensity that warmed him despite the lake’s chill breeze. This couldn’t just be for the public, had to be something more, something between them. Upton hoped, and that hope ignited his passion. He kissed back, pressing closer as the music changed and he felt other bodies around him, all swaying to the music, laughing softly, indulgent of the lovers in their midst.
Chapter 9
After the dancing ended, one of the wedding planners shepherded Sloan and Upton to the pier. The lake glimmered, silver and deep blue under full moonlight, even more romantic than it had in the late afternoon sunshine. As they stepped onto the small boat together and settled in, Sloan took the seat close beside Upton and rested his arm around Upton’s shoulders.
“Lake breeze is cold, honey,” he murmured, as if the gesture needed explaining. It felt different here without the photographer, without guests. Sloan had no excuse to indulge the heat in his belly.
Upton’s body had felt different than it used to, leaner, harder under the tuxedo than it had been in the two nights they’d spent together as Zane and Elton. It drove him a little crazy, the thought Upton didn’t look the same now, that Sloan didn’t really know Upton’s body as he’d thought he did. Was this how an old-fashioned groom felt marrying a bride he’d never bedded? It was maddening, and exciting, and Sloan battled the urge to try undressing Upton on the spot.
This wasn’t supposed to be like that. They were meant to live their separate lives, to support one another and be partners but not lovers.
But it had been so long. Months and months. Sloan hadn’t gone without like this since high school. He’d been used to sex at least three times a week, constant stimulation, always knowing where his next fuck was coming from. Even when he didn’t relish being Zane, he’d appreciated the outlet. Even as being Zane had consumed his private life and he stopped going to bars or taking lovers of his own, he’d enjoyed finding his release with other people.
What was he going to do now? Keep Fleshlight in business?
Sloan lapsed into silent brooding as they glided across the lake, snuggling Upton chastely. Contact was contact, and Sloan was content if not satisfied.
As they neared another villa, anticipation replaced dark thoughts. The boat’s pilot guided them into the dock to be greeted by a uniformed attendant who helped them onto the pier. Sloan grinned broadly at Upton, taking his hand, and then conversed with their attendant in Italian about their schedule and where they were going. He relayed the conversation to Upton in English between bursts: “We’re running a little behind,” and, “The helicopter’s waiting! Oh my god, Upton, I’m going on a helicopter!”
Upton seemed to find his excitement endearing, although he’d obviously been on helicopters plenty of times. He crossed the helipad fearlessly, drawing Sloan along when he stood awed for too long, taking in the wind generated by its blades and its sleek, muscular beauty. He climbed in, mimicking Upton’s effortless aplomb, and buckled up.
What must it be like to live such a glamorous life that this became commonplace? Sloan boggled at the idea, but he was starting to understand what he’d signed on for. This wasn’t just Upton’s life anymore. Sloan was a Bennett now. This was his future too, at least for a time.
The co-pilot passed them headsets, and after Sloan watched Upton put on his, Sloan copied him and listened in as the pilots talked in rapid Italian and slower English, preparing to take off. Then they were in the air, swinging out over the lake, and Sloan’s stomach lurched.
“Oh my god.” Sloan gasped and reached for Upton’s hand. He laughed helplessly and clutched it tighter, amazed as the helicopter swooped above the cypress-studded hillside and then tracked toward Milan.
Upton squeezed his hand, seeming amused by Sloan’s excitement. Though talking seemed out of the question with the wind noise and the pilots’ busy chatter, Sloan felt connected. As if this adventure was tying them together in a way the wedding itself hadn’t.
Sloan had seen the countryside from the road as they drove to Lake Como, but it was different from above. Milan’s city lights sparkling ahead appeared like a fairy kingdom spread out in the distance. In the weird glow of the instrument panels, Upton looked ethereal with his golden hair and big blue eyes. Wild, nothing like the tame talking head from the TV.
Maybe Sloan was swept up in the romance. He’d never imagined it would be so difficult to resist Upton.
When the helicopter landed at the airport minutes later, another attendant ran out to meet them before they’d even set foot on the tarmac. She ushered them to a cart and drove them to a private jet nearby. The casual expense left Sloan quietly overcome.
Who lived like this?
Apparently, now Sloan did.
They boarded immediately, everything at their convenience, and it was so different from anything Sloan had ever experienced that he stayed close to Upton, nodding mutely to the jet attendants as they set
tled them in. He sat beside Upton, sunk deep into puffy leather window seat—Upton insisted he deserved a view—and drank a bottle of designer bottled water waiting for takeoff.
His head swam, but he was starting to accept this as the new normal. The arousal and tipsiness had passed, and his rational mind was regaining control, thank god.
Uncertain it was the right thing to do, he held out his hand to take Upton’s. “This is surreal.”
Upton squeezed him and smiled. “What, you don’t ride two boats, take a helicopter to a jet to a limo to a yacht every day?”
He looked a little tired, but his gaze fixed on Sloan’s hand. He rocked his thumb lightly over the gold band. “Such a beautiful day. I’ll never forget it. You said such lovely things.”
Upton had taken off his jacket and undone his tie and the first couple shirt buttons. “Everyone seemed genuinely happy for us.”
“Yeah, they did. They were very enthusiastic for a bunch of stodgy politicians watching a promising young representative marry a prostitute.” Sloan laughed softly and stared up at the ceiling. “And I meant what I said, Upton. I was careful to only say what I meant.” He rolled his head on the headrest to look at him and smiled, feeling suddenly awkward, though he tried to hide it.
“I said what I meant too. I try not to lie unless I have to. And I won’t with you, if we want to make a deal to be honest with each other. I know that’s easy to say now; things may get trickier in the future.”
Upton squeezed Sloan’s hand as the pilot announced take off. Within moments, they soared through the sky.
Their gazes met, and Upton searched Sloan’s face. “Do you think that would work?”
Sloan deliberated. Could he stick to such an agreement? Then he nodded. “It’s for the best. If either of us thinks he can’t go on with this at any point, or if he’s considering potential risks or complex decisions, we ought to have kept each other in the loop leading up to it. Neither of us should be left wondering what our husband’s got going on or whether he’s told us everything. Too much is riding on each of us to stand on ceremony or hide behind pretense.”
“Good.” Upton squirmed until he was turned toward Sloan. He looked desperate to ask something, but then it was as if Sloan could see the inspiration die behind Upton’s eyes. Instead he just said, “It was a good night.”
What had Upton been going to ask? What had him so excited? Instead of asking, Sloan sighed and studied him intently.
“It was the most beautiful wedding anyone could hope for, Upton. I don’t regret a moment of it. Even when they were all talking, making speeches....”
Sloan tightened his grip on Upton’s hand and leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I was so nervous. My stomach was a knot. I was certain someone would throw my job in my face right there at my own wedding.” Then he smiled, playful, trying to set Upton at ease again. “But it didn’t happen. I felt like a princess, which is not something I ever aspired to, but it was kind of amazing.”
“If they had, we all could’ve enjoyed the surprised look on their face as security dragged them out.” Upton smiled. He looked cheery and boy-next-door, but Sloan didn’t doubt that would’ve happened. “Not that I threatened anyone, but I did make it plain that if someone was uncomfortable, they didn’t have to come. The guest list was going to be short either way; there just wasn’t room there for more people. And trust me, way more people wanted to be there to say nice things.”
Upton paused, then brought his other hand over to close around Sloan’s. “Politics can be an ugly business, but… I’ll say this for it, it’s unlikely anyone will look you in the eye when they stab you. But most of those people were old friends of the family. They want me to be happy, and if they weren’t convinced before the wedding, after all that kissing.…”
Sloan’s cheeks burned. “We did do a lot of kissing.” He cleared his throat and glanced out the window at the moonlit clouds before looking back into Upton’s eyes. It was a little tough to meet them, to own how carried away he’d gotten.
How much he’d wanted Upton in those moments. How good Upton was starting to look to him.
So much had changed between them, all of it slowly, in subtle ways. Knowing Upton wasn’t trying to take advantage, that he wouldn’t treat Sloan like a whore... At this point, Sloan was the one who wanted more.
Was he in love? No. He was oddly hollow, like he should feel something and didn’t. Was he in lust? Maybe after tonight, after seeing Upton so transported, so free with his affection and high on Sloan’s kiss.
“You promised to be absolutely honest with me, if I’m honest with you.” Sloan hesitated, studying Upton. “Do you want to sleep in my arms tonight?”
The light returned to Upton’s eyes and he smiled and nodded. “Very much. The perfect end to a wonderful day. The bed should be king size if you want some space, but I slept pretty well on the smaller bed with you before. Did you?”
Upton looked so hopeful and sweet, a soft smile playing at his lips, as if all he wanted in the world was a bedtime snuggle. From what it sounded like, Upton probably didn’t have sex as regularly as Sloan—or Zane—had. Maybe snuggles were all he needed. Then again, Sloan thought about Upton’s body writhing on Sloan’s lap, fucking his thighs.
No, Upton wasn’t as low-needs as he seemed. But they had to start slow, right? Upton had seemed insistent they put the past behind them. If he wasn’t comfortable being that guy, Sloan couldn’t ask him to be again just because they were married.
“Well enough.” Sloan leaned in to kiss Upton gently, brushing their lips together and smiling before sitting back. “I’ll be living with you when we return home. Might as well get a head start, right?”
“The kissing is nice, too.” Upton looked dreamily at Sloan’s lips, then leaned in and brushed their lips together again before he sat back and smiled. “If that’s all right.”
The jet started its descent, and Upton rested his head on Sloan’s shoulder. He pressed a quick kiss to Sloan’s neck, a tiny, sweet bit of affection that made Sloan smile despite himself.
Upton smiled against Sloan’s skin. “I feel like I’m going to sleep all week after all this traveling.”
Sloan laughed and stroked Upton’s hair, enjoying the closeness in a way he hadn’t expected to. He’d always been so closed off, such a contented loner. But he liked Upton leaning on him, being vulnerable. It reminded him fondly of how Elton was with Zane, all the feelings it had inspired in him, all the things he’d wanted to do with that blank canvas of unformed desire.
Tonight wasn’t the time for that. Not with Upton tired and Sloan’s head still mixed up between all the grand romance and people’s expectations. “We’ll share that big bed tonight, and you can reprise your role as the world’s most endearing little spoon. We’ll Instagram that for posterity, let the world see us happy and sleepy after the wedding. Then tomorrow, we’ll see where we’re at.”
He paused, thoughtful, and added, “Your mom said if we keep our social media updated, the demand for paparazzi pictures will be really low, so maybe we can avoid lunatics on boats trying to get close with zoom lenses. Just do couple-y things and be picture perfect. You don’t wake up, I’m just taking ninety zillion pics of you conked out. Like those ones of sleeping cats covered in various items that I’ll strategically place on your motionless person. Deal?”
“We have social media?” Upton’s brows rose briefly and then he gave a resigned sigh. “I guess that makes sense. My aides usually handle the tweeting. You can be our social media guy. Just no drawing pictures of dicks on my face or I’ll never sleep again.”
The jet landed softly. After a few minutes, the attendant lowered the stairs ushered them to a waiting town car. Upton slid into the back first and buckled up. He did look like he was winding down.
“All we’re missing is a bus and a train, then we could claim nearly all methods of conveyance.” Upton sounded a little grumpy, but more tired-grumpy than irritated with anyone. “If I wake up
first, do I get to take sleeping photos of you?”
Sloan laughed, enjoying grumpy Upton more than he really should. It was so boyish and cute though, and totally unexpected. It didn’t fit the vision he’d had of an indefatigable world-travelling billionaire at all.
Slipping into the back of the town car beside him, Sloan whispered, “If it makes my husband happy, I can make that sacrifice.” He placed his hand over his heart like he was making a difficult vow and gave Upton his best puppy eyes. “We’re partners now, and I’ll do what I gotta do to take care of your emotional needs, Mr. Bennett.”
Then he buckled in and reached for Upton’s head, drawing him close and resting Upton’s head back on his shoulder.
Upton rested his hand on Sloan’s abdomen. “I know we’ve been building up to this, but it’s still settling in that you’re my husband. This is real. You didn’t run off or try to escape. I had nightmares that was going to happen. Not that I would’ve blamed you. But now we’re here and it’s real.”
He reached for Sloan’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Mr. Bennett.”
“Kinda like the sound of that,” Sloan said quietly, almost to himself. “After how my family’s treated me... Serves ‘em right I’ve left them behind like they did to me.” He squeezed Upton’s hand and laughed, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt. “Got a new family now, right? That’s what you said.”
“You do. I wasn’t sure if you’d take my name. I didn’t want to… you know… but I’m glad you did.” Upton sat up to look Sloan in the eye. “They didn’t deserve you. I’m sorry you grew up being hurt. I don’t understand why people would prioritize religion—a religion that’s supposed to be about peace and love, so they say—over how they treat real human beings right in front of them. I’m sorry it all came out in a public way.
“But sometimes when I get down about being exposed in the press, I wonder how others will see it. Maybe another family has a teen living with them right now that they’ve been cruelly shutting out, and maybe they’ll see your family and think that they don’t want to be like that. Maybe some kids out there see that you can grow up with that and go on to do great things. I don’t know, that’s how I get through.”