Then I feel him tensing, the change in the sweet sounds he’s making, and I know he’s close. I focus only on him, on reading him, on that one exact spot and the perfect damn angle to glide across it.
He lifts his head and bites down on my shoulder, screaming as his ass grabs me and throbs. I feel him spill and it slicks between us as I realize I’m there, too, now, and I fuck him hard, deep, markinghim in secret just as everything else between us is secret right now.
Catching my breath, I cup the back of his head again and roll to our sides while he screams, and screams, and screams.
* * * *
Kev had dozed off again when my alarm goes off. I reach over and silence it. He winces as he sits up and our bodies part.
“Shower first,” I tell him.
He nods and staggers out of bed.
We use thebathroom and end up under the spray, where I hold him for a moment before we get started. I shave him, he shaves me, and with that done, I get out first, text the detail an ETA that we’ll be leaving, and strip the sheets to get the load started. We’ll have time to put them in the dryer before we leave.
Then coffee.
In the bedroom we get dressed, and I tie his tie for him, then he ties mine.He still hasn’t spoken, but I know from what he’s doing that, yes, he’s going to do this.
Once we’re downstairs and he’s hunting for his glasses, keys, wallet, and name badge, I finally speak.
“If you can’t handle it, you’re to go upstairs and text me immediately. Got it?”
He nods, but I can see it—Prophet feels he’s failed.
I pull him into my arms and hold him. “It’s okay, baby, I whisper.You’re not alone. Feel it, let it happen, and breathe. Keep breathing.”
“We have to win,” he says, his voice ruined for now.
“I know. We will.”
“Wehaveto win forher.”
He doesn’t mean Shae, and I know it.
“I know.” I kiss his forehead. “Focus onthat. On election night, we’ll toast her.”
“I didn’t know,” Kev hoarsely says. “I mean, I knew she loved me, but…” He sucks in a breath like he’strying not to cry.
I cup his face in my hands. “Tonight, you and I will pack her office. Okay?”
He nods.
“Today, Prophet gets his feet back under him. Because tomorrow starts kick-ass final crunch time, right?”
He nods.
I pull him in for another hug. “My good boy. I love you so much, and you can do this. I know you can.”
“I love you, too, Sir.”
On the way to the White House through thedarkened streets, I have him sit next to me, leaning against me, my arm around his shoulder. I don’t let him worry about optics—the windows are tinted anyway.
As we slow for the turn into the driveway, I kiss him. “Deep breaths, Prophet. You’ve got this. Lean on me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
By the time the doors open, Prophet—or a damn good imitation of him—is in the house. He follows me out of the limoand inside. It’s barely dawn, so no one to watch us. We head upstairs, where Yaz and Shea are in the kitchen pouring themselves some coffee. Shae’s in her bathrobe and looks exhausted, but she brightens when she sees Kev.
