I jerk him off hard and fast and it doesn’t take me long to get him over. It splatters all over the plastic bag and I watch how his fingers tighten around the back of the couch, digging in as he struggles to stay silent.
I’m looking Liam in the eyes as I start fucking Ward again, until I finally feel my balls tighten and vengeful pleasure spikes through my system.
Because of the condom I pull out quickly and use a wipe to remove it, tossing it onto the garbage bag, too. I wipe my hands with another one, and then tuck myself in and grab my jacket, pulling it on.
I hand Ward a wipe to clean himself up and once he’s tucked in, I pull him into my arms and kiss him, hard, until his brain turns off and I feel subspace beckoning him under.
Good.
Grabbing his chin, I look into his eyes. “Who owns you?”
“Sir owns me,” he replies.
“Good boy. Grab your coat and go back to work. Text me your address. I’ll be there at eight, and I want baked salmon for dinner.”
“Yes, Sir.” I send him out and lock the door behind him.
Then I turn. Liam looks damned ridiculous sitting there like that, but at least he doesn’t have to change his clothes.
I take the hideaway key off my keyring and leave it on the desk, along with his burner. “Like I said, you two can talk about whatever you want in text or in e-mail.” I cross my hands over my chest. “Any questions?”
“No,” he quietly says. There’s defeat in his gaze and then I realize what he’s looking at.
My right wrist, which is currently bare.
I deliberately wore a shirt with buttons on the cuffs today, so I wouldn’t need cufflinks.
Because every last damn pair of cufflinks I have are also day collars.
The prickle of tears catches me off-guard and I immediately start moving so he doesn’t see. “Lock the supplies in the desk. You should clean up and get back to work. I want a spare key to the door, and to the desk, by tonight.”
I’m reaching for the doorknob when I hear the plastic rattle as he moves and he speaks. “I love you.”
It’s only through sheer force of will I don’t start crying. “Yeah. I saw how you love me. Couch for you tonight. Don’t wait up for me, either.” I quickly slip out and head for my building.
I’ll lock myself in a bathroom there to have my cry.
* * * *
I don’t even knock on Ward’s front door, because he must have been watching for me when I arrive in an Uber. He’s already opening the door for me as I stride up the walk, trying to look like a man on a mission. Not that I think anyone’s paying attention to me, but just in case they are, I can tell them the purpose of my visit was work-related.
He locks the door behind me, takes my coat and hangs it up, and sets my laptop case on a bench next to the door. Then when I turn, he’s already moving before I make the gesture for him to drop to the floor.
My heart gives another uncomfortable heave in my chest. “Good boy.” I stand there with him, his head in my hands and massaging his scalp as he rests his head against my thighs.
That’s when I finally process the house smells delicious. “Dinner ready?”
“Yes, Sir. Master sent me instructions on what to make. I hope that’s okay?”
I didn’t tell Liam he couldn’t do that. I might be a dick, but I won’t be a punitive asshole with the boy.
Not when I want him bonded to me instead of Liam.
“That’s okay.” I tip his head back so I can look into his eyes. He’s desperate to please me and probably feeling like a man who nearly died of thirst finally being allowed to drink. “Show me around real quick first.”
“Yes, Sir.” He gives me a tour of the house, and as we’re heading to the kitchen at the end of it, I pause over a wedding picture hanging on the wall in the living room. It looks…perfectly staged.
Too perfect.
I study the woman’s face. She’s smiling, but only her mouth. It doesn’t come close to approaching her eyes. Compared to the photos I saw of him in college, Ward looks borderline sick to his stomach instead of like a happy groom.
Pointing, I ask, “What’s up with this?”
He sighs. “She used me as much as I used her. I was her ticket to stay in college and have a career instead of being forced to have kids she didn’t want.”
“And you’re sure she doesn’t know you’re gay?”
“Positive.”
“That’s your father?” I point.
“Yeah.” His dark glare tells me everything I need to know. Fortunately, Ward doesn’t look like him.
“Does Olivia have a job?”
“She’s going to work for a PR firm as an image consultant. Starts after she returns from Georgia.”
“So she’ll be busy?”
“And traveling a lot. I hope.”
I cup the back of his neck and we go to the kitchen. “I hope it’s okay if we eat in here, Sir. Or would you prefer the dining room?” They have an eat-in breakfast bar.
“This is fine. Sometimes, we’ll eat on the couch.”
“Do you want me to strip?”
“Not right now. Let’s eat.”
He prepares my plate first and waits to eat until I realize he’s waiting on me.
“Go ahead.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Sir.”
That prickle of tears hits my eyes again and jabs me high in the sinuses. But the food is excellent. “This is good. Do you cook a lot?”
“Olivia doesn’t like to cook, so I taught myself over the years.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes while I try to formulate what I want to say. “Did the two of you—Liam and you, I mean—have an ultimate plan when things started up between you again?”
He blushes and shakes his head. “He said he worried you might butt heads with my dad somehow. That he needed time to figure out how to make sure you were safe.”
I take another bite. “He wasn’t planning on letting this go on for years behind my back?”
“No, Sir. He felt horrible about keeping it from you.”
I take a deep breath. Could he be lying? Sure he could, but everything about his body language says he’s not. If I try looking at this as chief of staff and with that skillset, everything I see points to two men who know they fucked up and want to make it right.
But the stakes are high, man. So damned high.
And I am so damned tired.
“When we finish eating, let’s snuggle on the couch. You can get naked then. I’m exhausted. Set an alarm to wake me up by eleven, so I can call an Uber.”
“I could drive you home, Sir.”
“You have a car?”
He nods.
Normally, I’d say no, don’t take the chance.
Tonight?
“Okay. Set the alarm for midnight, then.” I yawn, weary through the very core of my soul. I know damned well despite telling Liam not to wait up that he will do exactly that, and likely want to talk.
I do not have the energy to deal with that tonight. Not even to fend him off. “On second thought, set it for four a.m.”
“Sir?”
“I’m going to spend the night here. You can drive me home in the morning. That’ll give me time to shave and change.” And maybe I’ll let him say good-morning to Liam. “Unless I give you permission to, you don’t tell Liam what we do or don’t do when we’re together, or what we talk about. He’s not allowed to see your burner, either. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Let my husband stew, thinking we fucked like bunnies all night.
When we finish eating, though, I help him with the dishes and we retreat to his bedroom upstairs. “Why’d she get the master bedroom?”
He shrugs. “Bigger bathroom for all her crap.”
We snuggle in bed together and I try to imagine younger Liam and Ward in college and sharing a tiny bunk.
“Did you want me to do anything for you tonight, Sir?” he asks.
; “No. I want to sleep. I slept like crap last night.”
“I’m sorry.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say Not your fault, except, yeah, it sort of is partly his fault. “I don’t sleep well alone.”
“Why did you sleep alone?”
“Because I made Liam sleep on the couch. He’s banished there for a while. Until I can’t handle sleeping alone anymore.” His body feels different than Liam’s but I suspect I’ll get used to that soon enough. “We don’t have a guest room.”
It’s easier for me to be angry at Liam because, hellooo, he’s the Master.
He should have had control.
Not saying Ward is blameless, but my husband can be a force of nature. Plus, every minute I spend with Ward shows me exactly why Liam couldn’t quit him after all those years and the traumatic manner in which they parted ways.
“Do you want coffee in the morning, Sir?”
Normally, coffee is my morning job. I don’t mind, either. It’s a routine, a way for me to ease my way into consciousness, until I can switch from auto-pilot mode into fully functioning chief of staff. “Yes, please.”
“How do you take it?”
I swallow hard. “Did you make him coffee when you were in college?”
“Every morning.”
“What was he like back then?”
He pauses, and I sense he’s collecting his thoughts. “He was my everything,” he quietly admits. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel that peaceful.”
We shift position so I can watch his face in the dim light as we talk, and we end up talking for nearly two hours when I start yawning uncontrollably.
Fuck me, I think I’m falling for Ward. The reverent tone he invokes when he speaks of their time together in college blasts most of my old preconceived ideas about him out of the water.
“We need to go to sleep, boy,” I say.
“How do you take your coffee, Sir?”
Yes, he gets bonus points for remembering to follow up.
Happy?
“Two spoonfuls of sugar. A little milk or creamer, if you have it. If not, that’s okay.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He falls asleep first, leaving me to wonder if any other beliefs I have are as flat-Earth-ish as what I used to think about Ward.
Chapter Ten
I’m awakened the next morning by Ward switching on the light in the closet, and I smell coffee.
“Good morning, Sir.”
This is…weird. Disorienting. Not just because it takes me a moment to realize that I’m not in my own bed, and that a US senator is waking me up…
And has my coffee sitting on the nightstand for me.
Liam.
My mind immediately focuses on him and I wonder if he’s worried because I didn’t come home last night.
Good.
I’m not perfect. I’m going to act more than a little spiteful until I get it out of my system.
I sit up and pat the bed next to me. Ward climbs back in and I give him a good-morning kiss.
I want to see what it feels like.
He’s a damned good kisser, but I suppose that’s to be expected.
I massage his scalp and his eyes fall shut as his head droops.
More reverse déjà vu for me.
“Good morning, boy,” I say. I pick up the coffee mug and…
It’s how I would make it for myself.
“Did I make it right?” he asks.
“It’s perfect, thank you.” My brain feels sluggish this morning, out of whack because my life is out of whack. I am a creature of routine, and right now, I don’t have one. “Let’s get in the shower.”
I realize he’s wearing the day collar when we step under the spray and it’s another minor gut-punch reminding me why I’m doing this.
“When we get to my place,” I tell him, “if Liam’s not awake, you can wake him up. You can also give him a good-morning kiss. Only one.”
He literally throws his arms around me, hugging me. “Thank you, Sir!”
“You’re welcome boy. And, if he hasn’t done it already, you can make coffee for him.” I step out from under the water so Ward can take my place, and I think those are tears he’s blinking away as he ducks his head under the water.
“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it.”
* * * *
We arrive at my place and the lights are off, meaning Liam is probably still asleep.
I quietly let us in and, yes, I see him asleep on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket.
At least he honored my wishes there.
And Ward earns more bonus points when he waits for me to motion to him that he can go wake Liam up.
I head upstairs to shave and change. I don’t think I can handle seeing the two of them together in that kind of intimate moment yet. I only have so much strength in me right now.
I am trying, though.
By the time I make it downstairs, they’re standing in the kitchen and talking. My heart gives a nervous lurch at the sight…until Ward hands me my travel mug, refilled. I retreat to the far side of the kitchen and lean against the counter to sip it.
Liam watches this as he lifts his mug and takes a drink. He’s dressed in sweats. “You need to get ready,” I tell him.
He nods but hesitates.
I know what he wants. He’s looking for any sign I’m relenting. “I love you,” I tell him, “but today is not the day to test my patience yet. You can give the boy one more kiss, then you need to get in the shower or you’ll be late.”
Naturally, I assume Liam’s going to grab him and really snog the hell out of him.
Instead, he kisses Ward on the forehead and whispers to him.
Ward’s eyes drop closed, squeezed tight, and he nods as Liam exits the kitchen.
Even I’m not enough of an asshole to stand there while the guy cries and not comfort him. I walk over and set my mug down then pull him into my arms.
“Thank you, Sir,” he whispers. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“What’d he say?” They don’t get to hide things from me. At some point, hopefully, I’ll be able to move into a more respectful mindset.
Not yet.
“He told me I was a good boy and that I was making him proud.”
Damn.
Here’s a US senator openly weeping in my arms because for the first time in twenty years, he’s hearing kind words.
I suck in a ragged breath and make myself say it, because I might be evil, but I’m not that evil. “You are being a good boy. You’re showing me that you’re trying. And you are making me proud, too.”
I close my eyes as Ward fists my jacket and tightly clings to me while he cries.
* * * *
That night, I go by Ward’s before heading home, and we talk for another two hours. I let Liam back into bed, but I stay way over on my side of it and don’t snuggle with him. I’m not ready to “discuss” things with him, let alone allow him into my pants yet.
I need time to…process.
Ward has set a date and time for our dinner with him and his wife. Until her return, I go by his place every night and talk with him.
I want to know the man.
Yes, there’s some fucking, and blowjobs, but I’m more interested in the uninterrupted talking. I can sneak sex with him at our place.
I can’t always sit down and talk to him without anyone else around.
Finally, the evening of our dinner arrives. I’m still only speaking the bare minimum to my husband right now. Hell, I’m talking more to Ward than I am to Liam.
I have a feeling Olivia isn’t going to like me or my husband, but that’s a her problem, not a me problem. Except I need to get a feel for her up close and personal, so to speak, in her native setting. Anyone can put on a happy face when out in public, where they think cell phones will catch their antics.
Especially if she’s a PR professional.
That’s why I wanted this to happen there, in her “territory.” Wher
e we can see a more accurate level of WTFery from her. I also need to see how far I can push her before she pushes back, or if she pushes back.
Oh, I’m absolutely, an evil asshole.
I sense Liam’s growing unease as we prepare for our dinner.
“Problem?” I ask.
He slowly shakes his head and I know he wants to say something, but he’s forcing himself to hold his tongue because of our agreement.
“Just say it. I won’t take it out on Ward.”
He finally turns to me. “Please don’t sabotage him tonight, baby. Take it out on me, if you want to, but he’s going to be terrified. Please, cut him some slack. That he’s doing this at all is…huge.”
A lesser man would be pissed off by that, Liam’s solicitation on his lover’s behalf.
I, however, am not a lesser man.
Not about this, anyway.
I nod. “I know. But he’s going to have to get used to doing scary things if he’s going to survive his first term in the Senate, much less if he’s going to stand up to her and to his father. He needs to learn these skills, and you and I have to teach him.”
His body language relaxes as he nods. “Okay. Thank you.”
I decide to throw him a bone. “Look, I don’t want to set him up to fail. This isn’t fluffy bunnies and kittens time. This is toughen-our-tits time, because if he can’t do that, he’ll never be truly ours.”
I let that last word sink in for a moment.
“You want him to be with us, right?” I ask. “If not, tell me now, because I kind of have a whole thing planned with a trajectory aimed at that as our ultimate goal.”
Liam looks absolutely stunned and stares at me for a moment as if he can’t believe I just said that. “Yeah. I do want him to be with us.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “I’m just worried about you and him and everything.”
“I know. This won’t be an overnight operation. The faster we build his tolerance and thicken his hide, the sooner he’ll be able to find the balls to divorce Olivia. If he can stand up to her and divorce her, he’ll be able to start extricating himself from his father, if the asshole doesn’t stroke out over the divorce first.”
Profane (Devout Trilogy Book 2) Page 8