Somehow, we make it through the next week and weekend without Casey and me killing each other or Declan.
Although she did return him to me the next weekend with several fresh, plum-smudged bite marks on him.
The weeknights he’snot with me, I only manage one, maybe two hours of sleep at a time, if I’m lucky. Three times now, Casey’s had him lock himself in my office with me for afternoon “meetings,” which were actually me napping on the couch with my head in his lap while he went through e-mails on his work phone, or worked on his laptop, which he sat on a folding TV table I keep in there for when I’m working late andwant to eat on my couch while watching TV. No sex during those times, just me grabbing some desperately needed sleep.
It’s not as good as a full night’s sleep, but we’re in a critical time right now, and he’s usually bogged down with meetings late into the evenings.
Although, we do sneak two more office blowjobs in during that time period, late in the day after everyone else has left and Casey’sbusy in meetings or dealing with work-related issues.
I call him in and tell him to lock the door.
And he sees the smile on my face and smiles in reply as he locks it.
That’s a smile I’m going to quickly learn to grow hard over every time I see it.
Then…there was Valentine’s Day. It was…rough. Not going to lie.
I don’t know what their original plans were, but Casey and Declan show up unannouncedand spend it with me at the house.
That evening’s permutation is her sitting on his face and riding him while holding his ankles for me, while I fuck him and stroke his cock for him.
I almost convinced Casey to spend the night with us, too. She’d started to drift to sleep on Declan’s other side when she realized what time it was.
Then she left after kissing him on the lips and kissing me onthe forehead.
He spends the whole night with me.
The night before we’re to fly to DC, Declan stays over at my place because we have to be up early for our flight. I talked him into agreeing to stay with me Sunday night after our return, and he’ll drive straight to the office from my house.
This weekend, he parks his car in my garage. Because, as I logically point out, why let anyone possiblysee and question a strange car in front of my house all weekend? Not that it’d be easy to see from the road, because of my long driveway and the private gate and everything.
But goddamned drones are everywhere now.
So he does that—parks in there.
And as I watch the overhead door roll down with his car parked next to mine, another of those shivers washes through me. Like maybe a tantalizingpreview of things to come, I don’t know.
I feel an unreasonably deep satisfaction over convincing him to park in my garage.
I give him a door clicker, so he can drive in and park in there any time he comes over.
Makes sense, right?
Right.
The next morning, Declan wakes me up by kissing me and presenting me my coffee. We shower, and I make love to him in there to help settle my skittish nervesbefore the EPU officer arrives to drive us to the airport.
I wear a baseball cap today with my jeans so that, hopefully, few people will recognize me. In the airport, Declan and I act as if we’re nothing more than friends with each other, and we’re dressed casually, comfortably, not in suits. Hopefully we can escape recognition.
But when we board, don’t think I miss how he crowds behind me inthe jetway, gently nudging me toward the plane. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t keep moving forward.
Even after I’ve downed a Xanax.
We end up sitting on the port side, thankfully, and there are only two seats in each row on our side of the aircraft. Even though Declan’s ticket has him in the window seat, I won’t let him sit there. In fact, I’m nearly puking when I grab his shoulder before he can stepinto our row. I forcibly shove past him so I can take the window seat.
Casey automatically lets me take the window seat when she flies with me, regardless of what our tickets say.
I suspect I won’t ever allow someone I’m travelling with to have the window seat.
