That is something I have never experienced and, if I’m lucky, never will. Although we came close with Kev’s shooting. Except I wasn’t there that day—I was out in California with Shae.
Jordan, at eighteen years younger than me…
I honestly don’t knowwhatthe hell I was thinking. I wasn’t trying to recapture my youth, because in some ways Jordan’s soul felt even older than Elliot’s.
The problem was and is crushing loneliness when it’s only me and Elliot. Here I have sat back for years,beggingElliot to simply reach out andaskme to dothisthing with him.
And when he finally does reach out, I’m not there.
It’s a self-inflicted emotional wound.
Somehow, I still manage to beat Elliot to the White House, even after I’ve gone upstairs and stowed my bags in my office and said good morning to the kids as they’re on their way to school with Yasmine. I find out they already did Pecan duty and got him corralled in his pen in the residence. Shae’s ensconced downstairs in the SitRoom with NatSec for her morning PDB. I’m standing in the hallway outside Elliot’s office and chatting with his admin assistant when he arrives.
Glasses today, and it looks like he slept like shit. His tie’s a mess and his gaze darts away from me when I look right at him. He’s carrying his Morning Book under his arm and I know NatSec wants to give him his briefing, because they’ve popped up out of seemingly nowhere and are standing there, waiting to speak with him.
Time for me to take over. “Vice President Woodley,” I say, tipping my head to him.
He nods back in that special way that acknowledges me as his Master. “Leo, thank you.” He glances at his administrative assistant and the NatSec officials. “I need a few minutes alone with Leo first, please, to get up to speed. Hold everyone, and my calls.” I notice he says to “get up to speed”—not to getmeup to speed.
“Yes, sir,” she says.
I immediately follow Elliot into his office, closing—and locking—the door behind me.
When he turns, I’ve already moved in, right behind him and catching him off-guard. I fist the back of his hair and pull him in for a long, deep kiss as I take the Morning Book from him with my other hand and set it on his desk.
A soft moan floats free from him as I ease him back and down, into his chair, even as I still kiss him.
His arms grab me, holding, clutching, desperate.
My poor, sweet pet. Elliot is a fantastic lawmaker and a sucky-ass politician. He doesn’t have the cutthroat nature for it. Not really. Not at this level.
I gentle my kiss, nuzzling his nose with mine before pressing my forehead against his. “It’s all right, pet. I’m so sorry. I was an asshole.”
He blinks, his eyes going too bright. “I’m sorry, Master,” he hoarsely whispers. “I know since Jordan—”
“Shhh.” Ican’tdo this today—take care of him—andbe gutted by memories. I can only focus on Elliot. That’s all I have the emotional strength to do right now, and I can barely do that.
Truth be told, I need the distraction.
“I’m here, and we’renottalking about him right now. That’s anorder.”
He nods.
That he called me Master here, right now, with people waiting outside to talk to him, tells me he’s in horrible shape.
I change my grip in his hair to a gentle massage that makes his eyes drop closed.
“Good boy.” After a moment of that, I remove his glasses and set them on the desk, then untie his goddamned tie and fix it.
You’d think after the army, and after all his years of ROTC, and his years being a politician and wearing a suit, that he could at least tie a tie, but no. Before he appears in public, someone always fixes it for him. That someone should always be me, except I can’t always be there for him.
Once it’s knotted, I stand there holding him pressed against me, his arms around me, his face against my abs, my hands on his back, my fingers flexing and rubbing between his shoulder blades through his blazer and shirt.
Just…standing there.
Because webothneed this. Weneedeach other, and I’m lying to myself if I think I could ever walk away from him, no matter how much pain I’m in right now.
Because I love him.
