“Yes.”
This is a familiar routine with us. Sometimes, I can’t tell Kev stuff, because of national security. In those times, he knows just how to press to allow me the relief of him knowing my mind is heavy, but without me revealing what I can’t.
“That means we can’t let that see the light ofday until you’ve retired from political life,” he says. “If ever. You’d be implicated for not exposing it, wouldn’t you?”
I nod.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“No.”
He nuzzles the top of my head. I never imagined this man would become my world. That night he interviewed me outside Amalie Arena in Tampa, I had no clue he’d unlock my soul in ways I never dreamed.
Both of these men.
“We couldgo up to the third floor,” he suggests.
He means the workout room. There’s no staff up there tonight, unless we call for them, and it’d be far enough from the kids’ rooms they couldn’t hear us.
It’s…tempting. And this is a sweet pocket of time we might not have for a while. We can sneak little bubbles of privacy like this, but play is more difficult, except in bed, and we don’t want to wakeChris.
“Okay.”
He immediately pinches the outside of my thigh, hard, making me yelp. “What was that,girl?” he softly asks.
I shiver as engrained reactions sweep through me. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
He kisses the top of my head and chuckles. “Good girl.”
Does it make me a horrible person that, after this day, just that little thing can turn me into a super-horny, squirming ball of need?
We go upstairs, and Sir takes over, quickly stripping me, putting me on my knees, and face-fucking me until he’s ready to put me on my hands and knees and fuck me like that.
I love it—I loveHim.
Later, once we’re both satisfied and exhausted, he puts us both together enough we can head back down to the bedroom and climb in on either side of Chris. He’s asleep, and from the deep sound of hisbreathing I suspect the alcohol helped him a little.
At least he’s sleeping, and now he’s with both of us, and the worst is behind us.
From this point on, he can heal, the kids can heal, and we can start buildingourfamily.
I’m the last one awake, judging from the sound of Kevin’s snores, and I can finally…think.
Part of me feels more than a little angry that I was denied all those yearswith Benchley and spent them idolizing a man who not only wasn’t my father, but was a fucking abusive asshole, to boot.
But the politician in me understands why.
I also get why he waited to give me her letter, instead of telling me after she died, or even before she died, but when she’d gone nonverbal and we knew she was just months or less from death.
Promises to keep.
A lot of things inmy life make better sense in this new context, though. I have no doubts I inherited a lot from Benchley.
I have a lot to learn from him.
I only hope there’s still time for me to spend time with him and get to know him better before we lose him, because it’s a comfort to know he’s still out there and looking out for me in ways I didn’t even know.
Because he loves me.
