“Why, again, was this done at the townhouse and nothere? As you both have pounded into my brain for years the detail won’t say shit.” I drape an arm around him and stare down into his face. “And all the times we’ve switched and I’ve beat the crap out of you here you’ve been pretty loud and never worried about it before.”
Jordan sighs. “For starters, it’s not like you and I have the freedom to leave the White House together and go somewhere private without it making the news. Daddy was trying to completely unplug my brain. I was fine with us playing here but I can’t argue with Daddy. He knows when we play here it’s…difficult for me to totally shut down my work brain. I can’t help it any more than you can.”
“Still, no more off-site freakiness. Not unless we’re all together. Deal?”
“Deal.” We sit there sipping our drinks. “He told me you flipped out when I left on Friday. Sorry I didn’t tell you in advance. That was also Daddy’s decision.”
“Yeah well, in the future, safeword for that and bring me into the conversation. That fucks with me working if you’re suddenly gone. I need time to mentally prepare. Especially for something likethat.”
“Hopefully I won’t need to do that again before the end of your term. I suspect last weekend will keep any potential gossip at bay until then.”
“Wait, what?”
“You didn’t see?”
I don’t like the bad feeling congealing in my gut. “Do Iwantto see?” I drain my glass.
He sets his glass on the end table and reaches for his personal phone, using it to surf to a political gossip website, where there’s a short video. It looks like it was shot on a cellphone from a distance. It shows Jordan and Kayley at a restaurant and acting rather cozy together, laughing and smiling and even snuggling as she picks up something and feeds it to him.
I literally want to growl when she leans in and nuzzles her nose against his, not quite a kiss but definitely looking like they’re more than just friends.
Visceral rage swirls through me. “You havegotto be fuckingkiddingme!”
“El,” he gently says. “Nothinghappened between us. It was just for the cameras. Youknowthat. Don’t you trust me?”
His phone and my glass hit the carpet, the ice cube clinking as I grab him by the throat and shove him down onto the couch, pinning him there. “You donotfucking do that with her or with anyone elseeveragain! Do you understand me?”
“El—”
“Do youfuckingunderstand me,boy?”
When he licks his lips I realize that firm bulge poking against my thigh is his cock. “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes,what?”
I spot the moment the furnace ignites deep in his eyes. His chest rapidly rises and falls as he stares up at me. “Yes, Mister President,” he whispers.
It doesn’t matter our shared owner—our husband—is asleep in our bed only feet away.
This isours, this isus.
And I need to reclaim my boy.
My lips crash onto his and I release his throat because I’m yanking his sweatpants and briefs down and off him. I shove his legs up and apart, folding him in half right there on the sofa, and bury my face between his thighs. Yep, he’s hard, and there’s the truth, right?
He’s mine.
I’m his.
But he’smine.
I drag my teeth along the underside of his sac before I lick it, tasting hints of Leo and lube and smelling sex because they didn’t take showers at the townhouse. They would wait to return home to do that even before their plans were rudely interrupted.
Swallowing Jordan’s cock makes him moan and when he reaches for my head I grab his wrists, holding him helpless and pinned as I ruthlessly pull him closer to the edge of release. His cock, his balls, down his taint and rimming him before returning to his cock. I torment him until he’s needy and begging.
“Please!” he whispers. “Please do it!”
“Please what?” I say against his balls.
