The Congressman's Whore

by Clancy Nacht

  She took Sloan’s hand. “The woman who saved you is named Wanda Reynolds. She is a decorated veteran, a single mother with two children who was on a first date herself, apparently. She had no idea who you two were. She just saw something bad happening and jumped in. Isn’t that beautiful?”

  Sloan struggled to absorb all that. He furrowed his brow and sat back in his chair, staring at Candice and then at the ceiling, overwhelmed by the pointlessness of it all. The sheer chance. The way the universe kept throwing him curve balls.

  Palming his brow, Sloan exhaled slowly. “Well, she did what I couldn’t. I damn well hope she and hers never want for anything. Can you make that happen? I don’t—”

  Sloan frowned and looked at Upton. He reached over to take his husband’s hand, squeezing it gently, his heart in his throat. “I don’t know what I’d have done. The world is so fucking crazy. It could’ve been over, just that quick. For me, for him, for the future he represents for our country. I don’t know how you can let him out the door after what happened to his daddy. I don’t know how I’ll let him out the door after this.”

  He felt exposed admitting it to her, as if he’d opened a window on his soul.

  “The future he represents for our country is how I let him out the door. He’ll be tempted to hole up, I’m sure. You two can have a little time for that, but you can’t let the world defeat you. You’re a fighter or you wouldn’t have gotten this far, Sloan. You could’ve stayed home with your family, tried to go along to get along, but you didn’t. That’s extraordinary, isn’t it?”

  She squeezed Sloan’s other hand gently. “That’s something to be proud of. If the methods you chose aren’t what many would have chosen, you used what you had. While I don’t agree with it, my judgement is for the people who have families and commitments they aren’t living up to. Not you.”

  She patted his back. “You really love him, don’t you?”

  Sloan couldn’t confess it to her, not like that. Instead he gazed at Upton, breathing through the constriction of his lungs, the awful feeling that had been the fear of losing Upton. Then he eyed Candice in silence, letting his expression speak for him.

  This wasn’t the time for tearful declarations. Soon, he’d need to tell Upton and hope that it was enough. That Sloan, with all his complications and demands, all his secrets and untouchable corners, could be what Upton really wanted.

  He would tell Upton when they were home again, like family.

  Chapter 14

  “Thank you, Jean.” Upton gave his radiant smile until his mom nodded, and Keith shut off the bright light. It felt as if his eyebrows were sweating, but he exhaled, relieved that his first exclusive interview after the shooting was over. He turned to Sloan, who was still holding his hand, sitting on the couch next to him.

  Those couple of nights in the hospital, Upton kept expecting to wake up to an empty room. Sloan had married Upton to avoid being murdered, but being with Upton had put him directly in the line of fire. He was so grateful that Sloan was still with him that it choked him up. Sloan was there to bring him home, to help Upton while his arm was still in a sling.

  The doctors said he might need more surgeries eventually, but they’d know more after he’d healed. As frustrating as it was, Upton knew he was lucky to be alive. He’d met privately with Wanda to thank her, though Upton himself couldn’t remember how the conflict had ended, only that Sloan had been there and Upton was so afraid to lose him.

  And he remembered pain. So much pain.

  Mom came over and kissed Upton’s forehead. “You did so well.”

  She hugged Sloan as the rest of the team saw to the camera and started clearing out. “Good job. Both of you. Get some food in him.”

  It was late evening, and getting dressed, shaved and ready had worn him out. He hadn’t even gotten fully dressed; he was sitting there in pajama pants with his suit jacket, shirt, and tie. America needed to see that he was all right.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Upton rolled his eyes, but smiled. She’d been great; she always was.

  Apparently, the public had warmed to Sloan due to the video of the aftermath of the shooting. Upton hadn’t had the intestinal fortitude to watch it because he didn’t want to see himself or Sloan get shot—or to see the face of the man who’d done it. It was good Dale Johann Matthews was getting the help that he needed, but Upton was too raw to think about him.

  “I’ll check in on you two tomorrow. Have a good night.” Mom smiled and headed out the front door.

  Keith picked up the lighting rig. “Bryant and I are looking forward to our rain check on brunch.”

  “Great. See you soon.” Upton nodded as Keith waved and then left.

  Upton undid his tie, or tried to. Unable to do it on his own, Upton sighed and turned to Sloan. “Help?”

  “Yeah, honey, let me take care of you.” Sloan smiled and tugged Upton in by his tie for a soft, lingering kiss. Then he deftly unknotted it and pulled it from Upton’s collar, winding it around his fist in a way that harkened to their occasional bondage.

  They hadn’t had sex while Upton was recovering; he’d only recently been able to make it through the day without heavy painkillers, and he hadn’t been home that long. Things had been hectic. Beyond that, Upton worried Sloan was hesitant to be that involved with him after what had happened.

  Right when they’d been going on a date, making progress, moving toward something real... It wasn’t fair.

  Sloan disrupted Upton’s dark thoughts with another kiss, a little more passionate, surprising him. Rubbing his nose against Upton’s, Sloan whispered, “I’m so proud of you.” Then he pulled away and gazed into Upton’s eyes. “I’ve been ordered to get some food in you. You gonna fight me?”

  “Do I ever fight you?” Upton stroked Sloan’s hair with his available hand. His left, which made everything more awkward. “I’m not particularly hungry, if that makes any difference to anyone. She made me eat when she got here.”

  He was looking forward to more physical therapy. It would hurt, but Upton wanted to get back to normal. The only thing he really didn’t miss was being in the call room begging for money. “Thank you for being here. For not running away even when I told you to.”

  Upton frowned, remembering how afraid he’d been for Sloan. He was in pain, sure, but what had really upset him was the idea of seeing Sloan murdered in front of him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “I’ll always be here, Upton. I’m your husband.” Sloan frowned and stood, drawing Upton carefully up with him. “Let’s get you into something comfortable, change that bandage.”

  The hospital had arranged a nurse to stay at the condo and take care of Upton, but that hadn’t lasted more than three days. Sloan learned how to do all Upton’s care and then took over, making her redundant. Now she’d peek in once a week until Upton was healed, but Sloan was his primary caregiver.

  They headed to the upstairs bathroom where Sloan kept the supplies, and Sloan fussed over Upton as he undressed, removing the suit coat and dress shirt he’d worn for the interview. Sloan set the things aside as Upton took them off, hanging the clothes neatly and adding the tie to the bunch. Then he shook his head at Upton’s bandaged shoulder.

  The bandage looked clean enough—Upton was healing well—but Sloan fretted over it as if it was his job. He settled Upton on the closed toilet, arrayed his supplies, and then washed his hands thoroughly in the sink.

  “So.” Sloan hesitated as he pulled on latex gloves, studying Upton intently. “What brought all that on? Thanking me?”

  “You released me from my tie.” Upton smiled wanly, not sure what to do with his right arm when it was out of its sling. He hated that thing, but then, he hated the pain of moving his shoulder too much when he was out of it even more. “But also, the interview. You being here with me, all of it. What don’t I have to thank you for?”

  Upton sighed sadly as he cradled his arm. “Marrying me was supposed to keep you out of danger. Instead, you got shot, to
o.”

  “A wise woman once said that love is a battlefield.” Sloan smiled, lopsided and endearing, and began gently removing the tape holding down Upton’s bandage. “You’re worth it, Upton. Don’t worry about it.”

  Love. Oh, that.

  Upton avoided Sloan’s gaze so as not to upset him with Upton’s intense want to say those words. At this point, Upton couldn’t risk alienating himself from Sloan by asking more of him when he was already asking too much as it was. That Sloan had stayed felt like miracle enough. Asking him to entertain Upton’s malformed idea of love was beyond what anyone should have to endure in one lifetime.

  They’d been on a date. Such a good date up to that point, too. The best one Upton had ever been on. They’d been flirting, bonding. Upton snorted at the horrible, morbid thought his mind had led him to. “Guess I mean business when I say I’m going to take a man to a horror show.”

  Sloan groaned, but he laughed too. “Oh, Upton.” His grin was indulgent, dimpled, and he shook his head as he carefully cleaned Upton’s healing wound with gauze and saline. It hurt, but it seemed to hurt less when Sloan did it than anyone else.

  Upton toughed it out, and Sloan murmured soothing reassurance as he probed the wound, making certain it was completely clean and showing no signs of infection. Then he applied the salve, dabbing it gently over the stitches. When he was done, he opened a fresh bandage and positioned it over Upton’s shoulder, following the procedure as carefully and dexterously as the nurse ever had.

  “There we go,” Sloan murmured, almost to himself. “Almost there, sweetheart.”

  Inhaling, Upton winced at the pressure of the bandage, but relaxed once it was sealed. The doctors said it was good that he was young and in shape; it gave him a better prognosis, but Upton was never going to be a tennis champion. Which was all right since he was lousy at tennis to begin with. “It was a good date. I’d like to try a second one. Maybe with a team this time. It’ll be romantic. Me, you, half-dozen bodyguards…”

  Sloan huffed, not quite laughing, and licked his lips. Was he nervous? Scared? Sloan being afraid to go out with him again was all Upton needed.

  “It was a great date,” Sloan said softly, his voice higher pitched than usual. He mashed his lips together, seeming anxious, and then exhaled heavily. “Upton...” He trailed off, dark eyes searching Upton’s face. “You don’t need to court me. I’m not going anywhere. I care about you.”

  “I care about you.” Upton turned his head when Sloan finished with the bandage and kissed Sloan’s hand. “I want to court you. You deserve to be courted.”

  Tears welled in Upton’s eyes, and he took a deep breath. “Do you mean it? That you’re not going anywhere? Because this is life in the public eye. The shooting has ginned up so much sympathy for us. It’s also...you know.”

  Upton exhaled and looked up at Sloan. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I know that probably sounds crazy to you—we haven’t known each other that long—but I told you to run because I didn’t think I could take seeing you killed.”

  Sloan stepped back and dropped into a crouch in front of Upton, gazing up at him. His eyes glinted a deep, rich gold behind his long lashes, surprisingly soft. He lifted a hand to cradle Upton’s cheek to run his thumb over Upton’s cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere, Upton. I’m...” He hesitated, eyes clouding with emotion, and then shook his head. “Not going anywhere. All right? Just get better, and then you can court me if you really must.”

  If you must. Upton frowned and looked away, stung more deeply than he’d imagined he could be, deeper than the bullet had penetrated him.

  Right. He was a fool, a fuddy-duddy policy wonk who lucked into marrying a hot guy who had the world ahead of him. Sloan had to put in his five years and then he was free.

  It had been such a great night up until the shooting, the flirting, the fun, and maybe they’d been getting along better. It wasn’t as if Upton was a monster. He wasn’t that hard to look at.

  But maybe he’d gotten his wires crossed. The great night and then Sloan refusing to leave his side. It was hard to believe it all meant nothing. Maybe it didn’t mean nothing, but it probably didn’t mean what Upton hoped.

  Maybe there had been a moment there between them. Upton had heard of couples who often just missed one another, that if the timing wasn’t just so, if things came up, they’d miss each other. What could have been was left unexplored. Perhaps the shooter hadn’t just punctured Upton’s shoulder, but had also blown apart whatever fragile chance they had.

  Upton nodded and then grabbed his sling. “Yeah. All right.”

  “Hey.” Sloan frowned and tightened his hand on Upton’s cheek, dropping his thumb to trace Upton’s lips. “Did I say something wrong?”

  What was Upton going to say? I’m hurt because you don’t love me like I love you. That wasn’t fair, and it was weird. “No, you didn’t. You’re perfect.”

  Upton closed his eyes and took a long breath. “I’m not going to try to force you to date me. You’re forced into enough.”

  Then Sloan’s lips were on his, achingly sweet and slow, and he looped his arms around Upton’s neck as he leaned into their kiss. Against Upton’s mouth, Sloan whispered, “You aren’t forcing me into anything. I want you, Upton. You don’t need to date me for me to...”

  Sloan trailed off and sat back on his heels, staring up into Upton’s eyes. He looked lost, young and confused. Hopeful. Wary. “You don’t have to court me to make this real. You don’t have to win me over. This is already real, Upton.”

  Upton’s chest hurt, and not in a way that was connected to his medications. He gazed down at Sloan, hoping beyond hope that he heard what he thought he heard, but it seemed impossible. His pulse pounded in his ears. “Do you mean that? I mean, Sloan, I’m really….”

  He looked away, tears barely held back. “I’ve really fallen for you. Are you saying that…” Upton couldn’t finish his sentence. If Sloan didn’t feel the same, he didn’t want to have put the words in his mouth.

  “Hey.” Sloan slid his hands into Upton’s hair, ruffling it from its interview-perfect coif and guiding his face back to meet his gaze. “Hey.”

  Sloan’s voice was gentle, barely a breath, but he was beaming, his lips curved in a shy smile that grew wider and bolder by the moment. “I love you, Upton. All right? I have for a while, I just didn’t know how to—being forthcoming isn’t my strongest character trait.”

  He laughed, breathless, and then surged upward to kiss Upton again. As he drew away, he caught Upton’s bottom lip in his teeth and tugged before releasing him and sinking back onto his heels. “Whatever else this is, this is real, honey. It’s as real as it gets.”

  Upton tried to throw his arms around Sloan, then remembered why his arm had been in a sling and hissed as a tear ran down his cheek for very different reasons than how happy he was. “Damn. Ow. But, I love you, Sloan.”

  “Take it easy, sweetheart.” Sloan’s brow furrowed as he stroked gently over Upton’s shoulder.

  Upton had curled in on himself to manage the pain, but he was happy, so happy, and he didn’t want to take his eyes off Sloan. “Our honeymoon was so romantic, and I worried I got caught up in it. Our date had been going so well, then after the shooting, I thought you’d leave. I kept having nightmares that I’d wake up and you were gone. Or you hate me. I kept thinking this love was all in my head.”

  Sloan’s brow furrowed as he stood, helping Upton rise as well. When they were both up, Sloan gazed into his eyes and smiled, looking somewhere between wistful and worried. “Let’s get you in bed, okay?”

  “It’s early.” Upton wanted to kiss and hold Sloan. He didn’t want to go to sleep.

  “Yeah?” Sloan considered Upton’s eyes and then started undoing the tie he’d worn for the interview. “Too early to get in bed?”

  His pupils dilated as he raked his gaze over Upton’s bare chest. He unbuttoned his collar and then shrugged out of his suit coat, hanging it beside Upton�
�s.

  Upton blushed and looked down. Sex hadn’t been on the table of late for obvious reasons. On top of everything else, painkillers had made that seem unlikely. At the moment, Sloan’s undressing was causing Upton’s cock to perk up. That was a response his body often had to Sloan, but knowing that their attraction had deepened made it impossible for Upton to breathe.

  “I guess if you want to call it an early night, we can.”

  “Late evening. You already ate. We did our requisite TV interview. I guess if you’d rather watch Netflix...” Sloan finished unbuttoning his dress shirt and took it off, hanging it with the rest as he eyed Upton. Then he took off his belt slowly, pulling it from the loops in a way that reminded Upton of being spanked. Sloan rolled it up and put it away before pulling his undershirt from his pants, baring his stomach and then his well-defined pecs before tossing it in the hamper.

  He stepped into Upton’s space, looking him in the eye, and then raised an eyebrow. “You just want me to put on some PJs and join you downstairs? Cuddle on the couch? Or were you going to read up on policy?”

  Keeping his right arm where it was, Upton slipped his left around Sloan’s waist and pulled him closer. He rubbed his hand against the front of Sloan’s pants. Upton gazed into Sloan’s eyes while stroking his cock. “What did you have in mind?”

  Sloan thickened rapidly, his cock filling Upton’s hand, straining into his touch as Sloan closed his eyes and sighed. He looked blissful as he arched closer still, eyes opening slowly to gaze into Upton’s. Sloan slid his fingers into Upton’s hair and held it tight at his nape, pulling as he leaned in and claimed Upton’s mouth in a demanding kiss.

  His other hand fumbled between their bodies, and then Sloan’s pants dropped away. Sloan toed off his shoes and stepped out of his clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs. The fabric grew wet with precum around his cock head, proof it had been way too long since they were together.

  Sloan hadn’t once pushed during Upton’s recovery, but the way he shivered and moved closer, somewhere between careful and desperate, made clear how badly he needed this.