I saidnoto the only person I should have been screamingyesto.
Closing that e-mail, I open the text that arrived a few minutes ago.
From Daniel.One I’ve already read.
No briefs tonight.Iwillcheck.
I swallow hard because as I sit here on the toilet, I look down at my slacks, which are puddled around my ankles.
No briefs.I removed them after receiving his text.
Because I’m Sir’s good boy and desperate to please him.
What am I doing?Seriously?These aren’t frat-house games.
Liam and I are senators.Daniel is chief of staff to senior House leadership.
About the only thing I’d have left if I’m caught doing this would be my political office, if that.Olivia would strip everything else from me and then some.She’d suck the marrow straight from my bones, and don’t think I don’t know that.
I have to divorce her.
Our prenup doesn’t say we can’t get divorced, obviously.It lays out specific clauses for behavior on either of our parts that triggers certain penalties.
If I ask for a quiet, simple divorce and state irreconcilable differences while implying my workaholic nature is to blame for us growing apart, she would probably gladly go along with it.
Making her look good is the key.
Notembarrassing her.
Meaningnotgetting caught in a messy scandal, like someone walking in to find me on my knees and sucking Liam’s cock, or getting fucked up the ass by Daniel while I do it.
Hell, she can even cite that she wanted kids and I ended up changing my mind and not wanting them.That’s a lie, but she’s been very careful to never tell anyone else she didn’t want children.I’d gladly go along with that charade, because it also paints her in a favorable light.
Anyone who knows me at all will agree what a workaholic I am and how much she’s complained about it over the years to anyone who’d listen.
When I finally drop the big-D bomb on her, I need to make sure it’s before I make my next run for office.
IfI make another run.
Or…
Maybe that’s how I need to play this.Tell her right now I’m not running again.Even if my father manages to survive another five years—which looks more iffy every month—he’ll be too far gone for me to worry about him fucking me over.
I hope.
I tap out a reply to Daniel’s text because there will be hell to pay if I don’t.
Yes, Sir.
Send.
I log out of the e-mail account and finish what I was doing.I find Olivia impatiently waiting downstairs in the living room, sitting on the couch and working on her laptop.
She practically slams the lid shut and sets it on the coffee table before she stands.“About damned time.Maybe I should stick a cork up your ass to hold in your nervous stomach.”
Barely suppressing a bray of anxious laughter, because I’m not at all certain I won’t be sporting some sort of plug in my ass by the end of the evening, I reach for my overcoat where it hangs from a hook in the entry.“Yes, I’m feeling a little better.Thank you for your concern,darling.”
She makes a disgusted noise.She’s always hated that term of endearment, which is why, when I use any for her, it’s always that particular one.
