Once Elliot’s out of the White House, Leo and I will be able to spend time with each other and with Elliot. That means helping Elliot reach that point as quickly as possible by him not losing this election. Otherwise, we’re in a four- to eight-year holding pattern until the next time he can run for POTUS, depending on the outcome.
I stretch my time there as long as I can before I sadly remove my cuffs and get dressed. I leave my collar on until I have to remove it to button my shirt and knot my tie. Then I kiss the collar and lay it in the dresser drawer where Leo keeps them, along with my cuffs.
Still hanging on the wall in his bedroom is the picture of the two of us at Shae’s first inauguration. That magical night will remain embedded in my memories until the day I die.
Next to it hangs the picture I drew of him and Elliot. I remember how touched I was that he got it framed. The gesture reminded me so much of Mimi’s love and positive energy.
I need to make him one of just Elliot. Maybe take a picture of Elliot when he’s asleep so I can draw that for him.
The more I think about it, the more I realize how perfect that would be.
Before I can set the alarm, my personal cell rings, and I’m already smiling as I answer. “Hello, Daddy.”
“Did you need some decompression time, baby boy?”
There’s no reason to deny it. “Yes, Daddy. I curled up in your bed.”
He sadly sighs. “My good boy. Sorry I couldn’t call you when I saw the alert from the alarm. The president was in the middle of a rope line. We’re onAir Force Oneand getting ready to take off now.”
“It’s fine, Daddy.” I lean against the wall. “I was just getting ready to set the alarm and leave.”
“Can I come over late tomorrow night and spend the whole night? I’ve got a slight schedule change that gives me a little wiggle room. I know we won’t get to see each other this weekend.”
My heart races. “What time?”
“Not until after ten, at least.”
I’ll be done with Grace Martin long before then, and I know two men who desperately need time with their Dom.
“Yes, Sir. That’d be great. Elliot and I would love waking up with you.”
“Does that mean I’d get my boy, too? Or do I have to deal with Elliot’s Sir?” I hear the smile in his voice.
“I think Elliot’s Sir could take the night off.”
“Excellent.” He chuckles. “That guy’s too good at his job. He can be a real prick sometimes.”
Now I’m smiling in a way I haven’t in too damn long. “He has to be. The president’s body man has set a high bar to live up to.”
“Ah, you sweet-talker. Keep sucking up to me like that and you might find yourself a happy boy tomorrow night.”
“I can only hope, Sir.”
As I head downstairs a few minutes later, my smile feels permanently embedded in my face.
Not even thoughts of Grace Martin can darken my mood right now.
I’msucha naive idiot.
