The Congressman's Whore

by Clancy Nacht

  He thought of the bitterness he’d felt speaking of his family, the shame he’d battled when he’d been outed as a sex worker, the fear he’d felt earlier in the night waiting for strangers to finish making their speeches. Maybe the worst wasn’t all behind him, but he couldn’t help feeling like the best was still ahead.

  Kissing Upton’s hair, he snuggled closer, tightening his arm around Upton’s middle. “Now let’s breathe together. In, two, three, four, five...”

  Chapter 10

  Upton woke to the sound of a camera, and for a panicked moment, he forgot where he was and what was going on. Then he saw Sloan holding his phone, grinning down at him.

  Light streamed in the windows. It had to be past midnight when they’d finally settled into bed. Upton slid his hand out from under the covers and looked at his ring. He held it up to the camera phone and pointed at it; that had to be a cute Instagram moment, right?

  Not the sort of hard-edged politician reputation he’d cultivated in the press, but with the wedding he had to show his softer side anyway, and it was true Upton was pretty nervous and excited to be married.

  Upton posed with the ring and then, in a surfeit of goofiness, threw off the covers and sat on his knees, putting his arms behind his head in what he imagined was a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model pose. “I feel so glamorous!”

  He turned around and threw an exaggerated duck-lip pose over his shoulder. “Now this is what will ruin my political career. Upton Bennett tries to be sexy, fails miserably.”

  Sloan’s phone clicked and whirred as he captured the moments, laughing to himself and grinning so hard he dimpled. “Oh honey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re centerfold material. I’m adding all these to my spank bank for sure.”

  Upton laughed and rolled his eyes. “Right. You want to see something really hot? I’m going to go brush my teeth. Mm, yes, clean, minty breath for my man.”

  He crawled to the other side of the bed, waving his ass in the air playfully, then hopped down and headed into the bathroom. In the mirror, he saw Sloan still holding up the phone, so Upton played along, smiling like an actor in a commercial as he spread the toothpaste on his brush and then went over his teeth thoroughly. After he spit and rinsed, he turned to Sloan. “Now I have to take my morning piss. I don’t think that’s something your spank bank needs.”

  Sloan put on a convincing show of pondering that and then set his phone down on the counter to brush his own teeth, ignoring Upton. Then, just as Upton was about to pee, Sloan muttered around a mouthful of toothpaste, “Shouldn’t kink shame, Upton.”

  Then he burst out laughing, spraying toothpaste across the mirror.

  Upton blinked and raised his brows. “To pee, or not to pee, that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of a full bladder, or to take a chance to fill Sloan’s spank bank.”

  With a smirk, Upton cut loose, surprised his bladder wasn’t being shy. “I guess you’re right. Those who live in glass houses and all of that.”

  Sloan laughed and laughed, doubling over at the sink, clutching his belly with one hand and the counter with the other. Upton had never seen him lose it like that, had certainly never caused it. “Oh my god, I don’t even care about your peeing, hubs.”

  He struggled back to his feet, rinsed his mouth with great peril as he tried not to choke by laughing with a mouth full of water, and then dried his hands and face on a towel. “Oh damn.”

  Sloan leaned in and scrubbed at the mess he’d made of the mirror and then threw a cheeky look at Upton over his shoulder. “If I was gonna develop a watersports fetish, it would definitely involve Shakespeare, so well done, you.”

  “I guess what we’ve all learned today is that I’ll apparently do most anything to make my husband laugh.” Upton tucked himself away and flushed the toilet. He washed his hands, then his face, then lathered up for a shave.

  Not that Upton was trying to be sexy; what would he realistically have to offer in that department? He wasn’t hideous, and now that he took in his body from a more objective standpoint, he supposed he did have less fluff around the middle. Still, he wasn’t the sort of guy someone would jerk off to.

  Upton was attractive, decent bone structure, nice hair… More boyish charm than GQ, though. He sighed and shaved his face, going in smooth, simple lines with an old-fashioned razor like his dad taught him.

  After, he felt clean and tingly, splashed the remnants of foam from his face, and then turned to Sloan. “So, we tackle breakfast first and then a little fun in the sun? I could pose provocatively with a beach ball.” Upton held up a finger. “I know you’re going to say you’re not into that, but I really think you should give it a chance.”

  Sloan just stared at him, seeming a little caught off-guard, and then he nodded slowly and raked his teeth over his bottom lip in a distractingly sensual way. He hadn’t shaved, and dark stubble studded his jaw, but he’d changed into swim shorts before waking Upton, like he could hardly wait to get into the water.

  “Yeah, you can live out all your supermodel fantasies this week. I’m here for it.” Sloan’s smile blossomed slowly, somehow more heart-stopping when it was that small and intimate, like Upton had done something especially good.

  Upton blushed and looked down, squirming. He knew rationally Sloan was just teasing him, but it was still fun to play the part. He selected a pair of navy and white striped shorts and quickly pulled off his boxer briefs and slipped those on, adjusting himself until he was pretty sure nothing was going to peek out or be inappropriate. “I’ll get some photos of you laying out. That’ll be what gets attention.”

  He grabbed his phone and checked it briefly.

  No emergencies yet. Good.

  “Breakfast? Or is it lunchtime already?”

  “It’s eleven. Let’s split the difference and call it brunch. Then we can start day drinking.” Sloan waggled his brows and headed out of their quarters, leading the way onto the deck.

  Mediterranean breeze hit Upton as he emerged, sweeping his hair off his scalp and washing over him in cool gusts. Ahead of him, Sloan’s hair whirled around his head in a dark cloud, and he raised a hand to comb it back, holding it out of his eyes as he squinted at Upton in the sunshine, beaming.

  One of the crew approached discreetly, greeting them in French and English, and Sloan launched into a spirited conversation in French that moved faster than Upton could easily follow. He knew enough to catch that Sloan was ordering them brunch and asking it to be brought to the upper deck. Then the woman smiled brightly at them both, nodded respectfully, and disappeared back into the depths of the yacht.

  Sloan held out one hand, phone in the other, and beckoned Upton into the shot. “One for all our fans back home,” he laughed, angling the camera to get both of them. His screen filled with their smiling faces, shiny hair, bare chests. He slung his arm around Upton’s shoulders and turned his head to kiss Upton’s cheek. The camera whirred, and Sloan pulled away a little, his grip dropping from Upton’s shoulders to his hand, leading him after him up a set of steps to a higher level of the deck.

  “It’s a spa, hubs. We have a spa, all to ourselves. After the day we had yesterday, we owe it to ourselves to soak our achy muscles in some warm water while enjoying a cool breeze, some mimosas, and all the pastry we can eat.” Sloan grinned and sank into the jacuzzi, sprawling out and setting his phone safely to the side. He stretched out with a low, guttural moan and closed his eyes, face tipped up into the sunshine.

  “What? I just got my bikini body back.” Upton sat on the side of the hot tub and stuck his feet in to get used to the hot water. “I thought it was a nice day yesterday. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, but I got to marry a hot guy. He speaks French; it’s pretty sexy. He’s a bad influence, though. A diet ruiner.”

  Upton scooted forward and lowered himself into the water, groaning as his muscles relaxed in the warmth. “Oh, now this I could get used to.”

  Sloan peeked at Up
ton and laughed softly, sounding tickled. “Told you.” He closed his eyes again, but his attention seemed to stay on Upton. “You know, yesterday was amazing, and I’ll never forget it. But I was standing for hours in dress shoes I hadn’t broken in properly, and my feet will never be the same. I’ve earned this.” He paused, and then added with a smile, “And you’ve earned a little indulgence. I’ll help you work off the calories later. Promise.”

  Why did that sound so dirty?

  Cheeks hot from something other than the jacuzzi, Upton looked down into the water that was bubbling up from the jets. “Promises, promises. Or are you talking about the onboard gym?”

  Flirting, but that had to be allowed; they were married, after all. Over the water, Upton reached out. “Here, give me your feet. We can get a real massage later. I think they have to book it on shore, but there’s a room.”

  “Ooh, a foot rub?” Sloan opened his eyes and stretched out his feet, propping them in Upton’s lap. He wiggled his manicured toes and gave Upton a shark-like grin. “Are you trying to melt me into a little puddle of Sloan, honey? Because it’s been years since I got one of those off the clock.”

  “Yes, but now you’re on my clock. I’m charging you for this.” Upton nodded, smirking playfully as he took Sloan’s foot in his hands. “Don’t expect me to actually be great at this, but I’ve gotta take care of my man, right?”

  Upton started at the arch of Sloan’s foot, pressing gently up into the foot, knowing that’s usually where his pain was. There and in his heel. This was probably the longest he’d had Sloan’s attention, where they could just talk and be silly. It was nice.

  He toyed with Sloan’s toes, flexing them slowly, massaging around the base and then up to pressure the top. “Is that something you like?”

  “Being taken care of or being your man?” Sloan’s teasing tone and little grin suggested he was flirting back, as difficult as that was to believe. He wriggled his toes in Upton’s grasp and sighed in pleasure, one arm braced on the edge of the jacuzzi, his face pillowed on it as he gazed at Upton. Very softly, he said, “I like feeling like my enjoyment matters most for once.”

  “It does.” Upton lifted Sloan’s foot and pinched his heel up through his ankle.

  Staff came up with plates of food and mimosas that they set on the side of the hot tub within easy reach. Then they slipped away, quiet and unobtrusive.

  While Upton rubbed Sloan’s calf, he reached out and picked up a mimosa. “To my dear husband Sloan’s happiness being put first.”

  Sloan’s expression darkened, and for a moment Upton thought that had been the wrong thing to say. Then Sloan hid behind his hair, and Upton realized he was just struggling with emotion. His lips twitched beneath the mess of shiny dark strands, and he seemed to battle with himself before swallowing visibly and putting on a fragile smile.

  Then he pushed his hair back and met Upton’s gaze. “I’ll drink to that.” Sloan retrieved a mimosa of his own and tipped the glass to touch Upton’s. “And to my charming husband Upton’s hands never getting tired.”

  Upton smiled, took a sip, and set his drink back on the rim. He rubbed the top of Sloan’s foot. “You’ve probably got a pretty good length of time. I spent most of my adulthood with just me and my hands. I mean, you’re my husband now, so you may as well know the ugly truth.”

  He switched to Sloan’s other foot, sliding his thumbs up to the ball and squeezing. “The fact is, Sloan, all those preachers on television are right. I am a masturbator.”

  “You’ve dated a few men, though.” Sloan sipped his mimosa and flexed his foot, studying Upton closely. “You took Keith places, and he wasn’t your only plus one. And the whole thing with Winston....”

  “Keith is Mom’s employee. That’s not… I mean, that wasn’t part of his employment agreement. And Winnie is like my uncle.” Upton wrinkled his nose. “I mean, yeah, I dated men. A couple, kind of. Dating never went anywhere. I don’t know, I think they expected I’d be more, you know, Christian Grey. Billionaire fantasy. I never had so much sex that I ever figured much out. Winnie actually—”

  Upton bit his lip, eyed Sloan, and then looked away, not sure if he should say. He’d promised to be honest, though, and Sloan had a right to know. “Winnie gave me your information. I didn’t really find you on Google.”

  Sloan frowned and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you did. I don’t turn up in a search for ‘sex workers near me’. Zane Sawyer and his details were always a loosely kept secret passed from interested party to interested party. All my clients were word of mouth in one way or another.” Sloan’s lips twitched, and he added, “I never serviced Winston, though, before you... But after what you said about wanting to marry an older ambassador, I just thought....”

  “Did I?” Upton squeezed Sloan’s heel gently, trying to remember what he’d said. He probably had. “Winnie was the first out politician I ever knew. I guess that’s been my mental model for being out and in the public eye, despite living it as an elected official. I didn’t think of Winnie, in particular. He assured me he hadn’t… seen you. That would’ve been weird. Though, you are his type.”

  “Yeah, I met Ross.” Sloan made a face and then polished off his mimosa. He set aside the empty glass and looked Upton over intently. “Guess in the end, you did follow in his footsteps a little. Married a clone of his husband. I doubt he met his the same way, but...”

  Sloan seemed a little agitated, though Upton might not have realized if he hadn’t gotten so used to the smiles. Sloan busied himself with a pastry, not quite looking at Upton.

  Upton kept rubbing Sloan’s foot, hoping the awkwardness would evaporate. “Kind of seems like fate in a way. I don’t know where he got Zane’s information. I think I sat on it for a month, viewing the site, trying to decide whether I should or even could get in touch. I was so nervous, but then… I don’t know. We spoke and you—or Zane—seemed…hot, yeah, but then so kind, also. And no offense to Ross, but you’re much smarter.”

  Upton went over Sloan’s arch again, stretching it, not sure how much he’d stepped in it. “Is that upsetting? That Winnie gave me your information?”

  “No.” Sloan licked his lips and sighed like he was wrestling with his words. “But you could’ve done so much better than me, Upton. You could be spending your time, your life, with someone where...” He frowned and shook his head. “It’s just hard to believe you’re not going to resent it when you’re wondering who else sitting on the floor of the House has been with me. In the end, it’s going to be you who has to live with that stigma as much as me.”

  Those dark eyes searched Upton’s face, simultaneously sad and hopeful. “Tell me you don’t regret it.”

  Upton released Sloan’s foot, scooted next to him, and wrapped his arms around him. “I promised to be honest, and so I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t regret it, but I admit I worry sometimes about how I’m going to handle it when—and I know it’s going to be a when and not an if—someone throws it in my face that they’ve been with you.

  “And even that… You know, it’s not like most people married virgins. Everyone’s got a past. I worry… I worry I know who threatened your life, and that will be hard to handle. Hard to know what happened, hard to not want to...grab that gavel and make him fucking choke on it.”

  He touched Sloan’s cheek. “That’s not regret, all right? Besides, with all those languages, you’re a shoo-in for an ambassadorship.”

  Sloan made a soft, almost wounded sound and then his hands were in Upton’s hair, on his nape, pulling him in as Sloan kissed him hard. He licked his way into Upton’s mouth, parting his lips effortlessly and thrusting his tongue inside as his hands wandered down. Within moments, Upton was straddling Sloan’s lap, pulled close, dizzy and feeling devoured.

  With his lap pressed to Sloan’s, he could feel the stir of Sloan’s erection, detect the first, tentative roll of his hips upward to grind into him. Then Sloan broke the kiss and rasped, “I want this. Want you.”


  Upton was overwhelmed and more than a little shocked. His cock had no questions at all. Upton was already clenching in anticipation of having Sloan, if that was really where this was leading. His pulse raced as he gazed down at Sloan, then whimpered and kissed him back, pouring passion into it, because Upton desperately wanted Sloan.

  He’d put sex out of his wants because, after their discussion, Upton hadn’t wanted Sloan to feel as if he had to perform. But Upton ached to be part of him. He wanted to be close. Upton would take the cuddling and the kissing, and he would live with it if that was all that was on offer. But if he could have more…

  “Yes. Want this so much.”

  “Yeah?” Sloan bit Upton’s jaw, scraping the freshly shaved skin with his teeth. “It won’t be like... I want what I want, Upton. You gonna give it to me?”

  Somehow, in that hungry, velvety voice, it sounded thrilling rather than ominous, like Sloan was offering him a way behind the curtain at last, a path to get at what lay behind the carefully controlled expressions and artfully wrought personas.

  Upton took a deep breath. All his fetishes, his desires such as he knew them, were already known to Sloan. There had to be more that Upton wanted, more that he was interested in, but he’d never tried, never had the opportunity.

  There was a possibility Upton wouldn’t enjoy what Sloan wanted, but there was a possibility that, like the spanking, he’d find he enjoyed it. The only way to find out was to try.

  Upton nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Right now?” Sloan gazed into his eyes, seeming to weigh his answer. Then he smiled, just a tiny curl of his lips, and tightened his hands on Upton’s hips. “Stay right here, strip naked, and wait for me. I’ll be right back.”

  Then Sloan moved Upton off his lap and stood, shooting a challenging look at him before he disappeared down the stairs to the main deck.

  Upton blinked. Here? In public? Sort of public. It was a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean. He peered around, not seeing much on the horizon.