If he doesn’t win, however, I don’t know what that’ll do to his psyche.
Does it make me a horrible owner that I consider trying to talk him out of running at all? That I know I could bring every mental and emotional trick in my arsenal to bear on him and manipulate him into changing his mind? That I want him to retire from public life so I can hold him close to me andfinallystart helping him work on his issues?
Pot, meet kettle.
Fortunately, my family issues aren’t as bad as his. My family knows I’m gay, except they don’t know anything about Elliot, other than we’re best friends. Elliot and I both have other emotional issues which are intrinsically wrapped around and through our lives and our responsibilities, and we both feel guilty over events and deaths that aren’t really ours to own.
Unfortunately, emotions aren’t logical. Emotions just…are.
And all his life, Elliot’s aimed for this goal, thinking it’s what he needs to be complete. If I take that away from him, it’ll be me he blames eventually, and I damn well know it.
The problem is, DC is a vicious, high-pressure fishbowl filled with starving piranha who won’t hesitate to take down anyone they feel is a weaker guppy than they are.
Except Elliot has a secret weapon—me.
I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my pet and keep him safe, no matter what I have to do.
Even if it means going after and taking down his family in the process.
Chapter Thirteen
Then
After dinner, it doesn’t take long for me to tidy the kitchen and for us to make our way back to my bedroom.
That’s where Elliot spies my open implement bag on the floor near the closet, where I left it after retrieving the collar and cuffs.
“Ohh!” His eyes go wide in the good kind of shock and awe that makes my cock twitch.
I hope I have enough lube and condoms on hand for this weekend. At this rate, I’ll be completely out by Monday morning.
Yay.
Still using the desk chair, he rolls himself over to my bag. It’s absolutely adorable how curiously eager he looks right now as he glances back to me, like he’s asking my permission to poke through it.
“Go ahead. Pick a few things.”
He smiles. “Really?”
Oh, my god. He’s seriously fuckingadorable. “Really.”
He climbs out of the chair and sits on the floor to start sorting through the contents of my implement bag. Meanwhile, I put music on. Things got heated so fast when we arrived that I didn’t want to pause long enough to do it.
He almost immediately finds the ankle cuffs and holds one up. “Can I wear it, Sir?”
Something deep inside my gut twistshard. It nearly chokes me up how eager he is. “Of course, pet.” I walk over, take it from him, and kneel to buckle it around his right ankle. “I wasn’t sure if…” I meet his gaze. “I didn’t want to push too hard.”
He fuckinggrins. “I appreciate that, but I want to do everything. You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me.” His smile fades. “I prefer youdon’twalk on eggshells around me.” He pats the chair. “This? Logical, and appreciated. But I don’t need special treatment, aside from a physical accommodation.”
“Duly noted.” I fist his hair and tip his head back for another crushing kiss. I cannot get enough of kissing him. He’s quickly growing used to me and learning how to kiss me back. It’s so damned perfect, I can’t begin to tell you. “Then you’d better go through there, take out the things you don’t want me to use on you this weekend, and everything else will be fair game.”
That glazed look has returned to his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Sir.”
I change from fisting his hair to massaging his scalp. His eyes drop closed, nearly making me laugh as I watch him.
