He nibbles the top of my left shoulder before biting down, hard, and sucking. It makes my cock twitch inside him but I’m so tired I think I’m beyond a round two tonight. I bury a hand in his hair and hold him there.
He’s marking me.Duh. He’s a very territorial pet the way I’m a very territorial owner.
When he finally releases his bite, he kisses it. “Love you, too, Master.”
His voice now bears a gentle, tender tone that means he feels better. That, for tonight, he’s willing to let me shove everything else aside and give me what I need from him.
In this fleeting perfection, I only need him.
Later, after we’re curled together in bed, I have all our alarms set, and Elliot’s sound asleep, I reach over to my nightstand and grab my personal phone, where it’s on the charger.
I’d responded to Jordan’s text during one of Elliot’s later meetings, and Jordan responded again, about an hour ago.
I feel us invisibly dancing around each other.
Or maybe that’s narcissistic and wishful thinking on my part.
The airline’s app isrightthere on my phone’s main screen.
This is something I’ve been thinking about doing, going to Tallahassee, seeing Jordan. Talking to him in person.
Because I can’t let him go. Not in my heart, certainly. I feel like I didn’t really get to say goodbye to him the way I wanted to.
Maybe because I couldn’t convince him to change his mind, and I stopped just sort of trying to order him to stay.
Except, in this case, I don’t think that would have worked. Ironically, Jordan is so much stronger than Elliot in so many ways.
I open my calendar app and check my schedule. When I see that, four weeks from now, I have a long weekend where I won’t be going anywhere, but Elliot will be busy with appearances in the DC area, I take a deep breath and book myself a ticket from DC to Tallahassee that Friday evening, returning on Sunday.
I won’t tell Jordan or Elliot about it right now.
Something in my heart settles a little, which tells me I’m on the right path.
I don’t know what will happen, but thisfeelsright.
That means I’m going with it.
While praying that I’m not majorly fucking up my universe in the process.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Then
Standing backstage in Memphis at the Democratic National Convention, I watch my boss, her husband, and my boyfriend walk out on the stage amid a thunderous swell of cheers and applause. Senator ShaeLynn Samuels is now officially the Democratic candidate for president.
Hooray.
Next to me, Kevin Markos stands with a rightfully smug smile on his face. “You know she’s got this, right?” He slides his hands into his pockets. “She’s kicking ass.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“You should be happy. You’re guaranteed a job for the next four to eight years.”
I slowly nod as I watch Elliot waving. “I am happy.” My pet already looks presidential. I feel like my heart’s breaking because there are easily thousands of panties getting damp over him out in the audience, and god knows how many at home.
Then there are all the guys like me who will be drooling over him.
Some of them with their wives or girlfriends by their sides.
