Solace (Devastation Trilogy Book 2) Page 13

  Holy fuck.

  Right now, if I was working full-time at our law firm here in Nashville, I’d probably be pulling in about half that amount. There, I’m not even a junior partner yet.

  Except Casey is there. And George.

  And our long game.

  “Your firm’s getting more into politics, then, is it?” George asks, shifting Darren’s attention onto him. I know damn well what he’s doing—he’s giving me a moment to think about that proposal.

  This is a career issue. George would never outright forbid me from accepting the offer. Especially when that’s a lot of fucking money.

  Except as I study George in this moment, I see the building tension in his neck and shoulders, the murky darkness in his gaze.

  His barely constrained fear.

  Memphis isn’t exactly a daily commute from Nashville, even for that kind of pay. Besides, if I was working there instead of in the governor’s office, it’d make it damned difficult to explain why I was always hanging around with George if I worked for a law firm that I know for a fact is leaning more heavily into lobbying efforts. That’d mean I couldn’t be seen alone with him, or it’d risk triggering an ethics investigation.

  It’d also mean I’d have to limit my contact with Casey because of ethics rules.

  That’s a double hard no for me, even at twice the money. Before I factor in anything else.

  “While that’s a very generous offer,” I tell Darren, “and I’m very flattered, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I serve at the pleasure of the governor.”

  George refocuses on me and his blue gaze narrows, nearly predatory, every last hint of fear vanishing.

  The look of Sir recognizing that his boy belongs to Him.

  My cock, predictably, responds.

  “Yes,” George softly says. “Yes, you do.” One corner of his mouth quirks up in a sexy, teasing smirk I also know all too well. “And may I say it damn sure is my pleasure.” He looks at the guy. “To have Declan as my deputy chief of staff,” he quickly adds. “Casey did well bringing him on board for my administration. He’s invaluable to me. They are a hell of a team.”

  Disbelief fills Darren’s tone as he turns to face me, putting George off to his side now and out of his direct line of sight. “Are you sure? I can give you a couple of days to think about it. Or are you trying to hold out for more money?”

  Behind the man, George’s smile slowly spreads, downright cocky even as he takes a deep breath. He’s fully relaxed now, shoulders back and head held high.

  “Sorry, Darren,” I tell him. “I have my work here, as well as Governor Forrester’s re-election campaign. I’m too…tied up with all of that. Apparently, I’m a masochist.” George’s smile widens behind Darren. “I’m handcuffed to my post until Governor Forrester says otherwise.” George presses his lips together, trying not to laugh now. “Between him and Ms. Blaine, well, they keep me a very busy boy. And I’m extremely satisfied with my current position. Service—public service—is a higher calling.”

  George masks his laughter with a coughing fit, and he reaches over for the glass of water at the place he’d been sitting and takes a few sips from it.

  Oooh, I’m going to get spanked for that later, in a good way.

  I’ll enjoy every damn second of it, too.

  Everything sails right over Darren’s head, because the guy’s truly not that bright when it comes to subtext. He’s older and very literal-minded.

  To be fair, he would never in a million years think that George was fucking me, though. “Oh, well, that’s a shame. The partners were really hoping we could convince you to come aboard.”

  George snorts into his glass even as he takes another gulp from it.

  “Thanks, but my career here is coming along quite nicely. I get to learn the ins and outs of state politics at the feet of a master.” I’m legit shocked George hasn’t choked himself laughing yet. “And both Ms. Blaine and Governor Forrester are slave drivers—in a good way—when it comes to expecting results,” I add. “They push all of our staff to be the best they can. We’re a well-lubed machine. I’m not about to screw with that perfect dynamic.”

  George clears his throat, interrupting me before I can pun myself out. “We hate to run, Darren, but we need to get back to the office. I’ve got phone calls to make. Sorry, but you can’t steal my deputy chief of staff from me today.”

  “Yes, so am I,” Darren says. “Sorry, that is. Well, can’t blame a man for trying.”

  George shakes with him. “No hard feelings, but my staff is loyal to me.”

  We let Darren head out first. When the door swings shut behind him, it leaves only the two of us standing there.

  “I’m going to spank you for that later,” George whispers. “Then I’m going to reward you.”

  I’m all wide-eyed innocence. “You mean the spanking isn’t a reward, Sir?”

  I grin as he laughs and reaches out for a fist bump from me, which I return. We head for the door. “Well-lubed machine,” he says. “Jesus, wait’ll I tell Case that one.”

  My own smile widens. “Maybe she’ll beat me, too.”

  “If you’re lucky.”

  * * * *

  I’m working in my office late that afternoon when I sense a presence in my doorway. I look up to see Casey leaning against my door frame. She’s smirking, arms crossed over her chest.

  “Yes, Ma’am?” I don’t know who else is still in the office or within earshot.

  She steps inside and closes the door behind her, leaning against it. “You serve at the pleasure of the governor, hmm?”

  Grinning, I lean back in my chair, my hands laced together on top of my head. “Our staff is a well-lubed machine, what can I say?”

  She laughs, shaking her head as she walks over to my desk. “George said he damn near choked to death on his water.”

  “He did.”

  Her smile fades and she drops her voice. “You realize how much that meant to him, right? That was some serious paper Darren waved in your face. You sure you don’t want to reconsider? Even I wouldn’t blame you if you jumped.”

  I shake my head. “No fucking way. Not getting rid of me that easily.”

  I think about Saturday night, standing in George’s kitchen and holding him as he cried.

  How I had to take the wad of plastic grocery bags from him and lead him upstairs to bed, where I held him while he finally fell asleep in my arms.

  She studies me for a long moment. “EPU told me about the late-night shopping trip.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What brought that on?”

  I shrug. “He wanted to go shopping so we had food for breakfast and dinner yesterday. I offered to go Sunday morning, but he wanted to go with me. Better late at night than in the middle of a busy morning.”

  “How was he?”

  I think about George almost kissing me when he returned to my car. “Careful,” I say. “And he stopped to take pictures and talk with people who recognized him.” I pull out my personal phone and swipe to one of the pics I took, his smile beaming in the shot, and show it to her.

  She slowly nods and returns my phone. “I’m going to sit in on a committee meeting tonight. Fiscal Review.”

  Disappointment rolls through me. I’d hoped to spend time with her tonight. “Do you need me to stay for it?”

  She shakes her head. “Go home and get some sleep.” She smirks before she turns to head for the door. “I’m sure you probably didn’t get much sleep this weekend. I’ll call you later tonight.”

  She leaves my office door standing open behind her.

  Sometimes, she’s difficult to read. My default over the years has always been to take her at her word, because she’s not one to play mind games with me when it comes to work. She’s never passive-aggressive. She states her mind when there’s something on it.

  I’m a little disappointed, sure, because I was hoping to snuggle with her tonight. It’ll feel weird sleeping in my own bed for a change.
>
  Alone.

  Except I could use the damn sleep.

  I stop by George’s office on my way out. He’s on the phone, but he mimes for me to close and lock the door after he waves me inside.

  I do, then set my things on the sofa.

  He finishes his call and stands, rounding his desk and pulling me in for a long, strong hug, followed by a kiss that hardens both of us.

  “I told Aussie I’d meet her for dinner on my way home,” he says.

  I rein in my growing disappointment. “No worries.”

  A long, comfortable silence settles between us as his blue gaze stares into mine. “I’ll call you after I’m home.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He kisses me again, and despite knowing it’s impossible, part of me wishes we could just go out and be…open. Our lunch in DC and the grocery shopping trip both drive home how not-normal our whole relationship is.

  And if he wins re-election…

  That’s four more years of keeping our heads down and sticking to the shadows. If I want to keep this job, that is. Because I can’t be publicly dating the governor and be his deputy chief of staff.

  It’s either/or.

  Right now, the greater good—and George—is served by this staying in the shadows.

  “Be my good boy,” he whispers, and I know what he means.

  Except my cock is hard and aching now from his kisses.

  Yet, still, I will obey. I’ve had, what, eleven years’ practice at this, now. Obedience.

  “Yes, Sir,” I tell him.

  He nuzzles my nose with his while his hands slide down to my ass and squeeze, hard, drawing a hiss of pain from me. “Tomorrow after lunch,” he says. “I’ll have about thirty minutes.”

  I smile. “It’s a date, Sir.”

  Once I’m in my Jag and on my way home to my apartment, I can finally relax. I don’t have a long drive, either. I unload my car, change into sweats and a hoodie, and head out for a run with my earbuds in. Tonight’s music playlist is Marc Anthony and Logic on shuffle.

  Again, don’t judge me.

  It rained earlier today and it’s still overcast. I push myself hard through the waning light, the cool, damp air filling my lungs and helping me focus. I lose myself in the music, in the rhythm of my steps, chasing away my darkest thoughts for a while.

  This is total insanity, it really is. Yet I can’t bring myself to turn away from George. I’m in love with him.

  At least with Casey, I knew if we were ever caught and exposed that it was a career-centric fallout limited to an ethics perspective. A superior having an affair with a subordinate. Age difference aside, in some ways it would probably raise both our reputations among some elements of Tennessee politics.

  Inconvenient, absolutely, but completely survivable. I’d simply go back to practicing law full-time, where I’d probably receive countless attaboys from nearly every man at the law firm for being the guy who bagged Casey-Marie Blaine as a significant other. Or else it’d fade away totally, and I’d be yet one more guy on Casey-Marie Blaine’s dance card, or so people would think. It’d depend on how she wanted to play it.

  In our state, I don’t know if it’s possible for George to survive politically, much less professionally, if our relationship is exposed.

  Except he needs me.

  That’s not just pride on my part. That’s also coming from Casey, who arguably knows him in most ways better than anyone else alive.

  Even entertaining the possibility of a triad is just…

  Is there a mental state beyond insanity? Because that’s what it would be—fucking insane to the Nth degree.

  Total political and law career suicide for all three of us. George’s bounce in the polls would become an inescapable black hole. Especially once the Evangelicals jumped on board and denounced all three of us as perverts.

  Ironically, if it was just Casey who George was romantically tied to, the public would likely eat that up. At the very least, he’d be given a pass by the good ole boys’ club.

  Around the halfway point in my run I stop for a moment to stretch and catch my breath. Part of me wants to run all evening. This was something I did back in college—lose myself in an evening run to shut down my mind when I couldn’t be with Casey and kneel at her feet.

  When I couldn’t purge the image of Emma’s body from my mind, which is something else being with Casey always helps me do.

  Now, being with George allows me the same blessed peace, albeit fleeting and temporary.

  Although Emma’s been dead nearly fifteen years. I might have been an uncle by now, or helping her get through college.

  Except her dying put Mom and me on a course to Nashville, to meeting Casey.

  To meeting George.

  Fuck.

  I pace in a circle, hands on my hips and head tipped back, eyes on the darkening sky. There are no good tradeoffs. Not like this. I’d give anything to have Emma and Mom back and still be living in that fucking crappy single-wide. Just like I know George would give anything to have Ellen back.

  Case probably would, too.

  We’ve got what we’ve got, though, and that’s each other.

  I only wish I knew of a way to keep us all safe and make sure we’re all getting what we need.

  Or that I could think of a way to eradicate one particular man from the face of the Earth without it blowing back on George or Casey.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It’s a long fucking week. Tuesday afternoon’s post-lunch date with George ended up not happening because of a mass shooting at a warehouse distribution center in Chattanooga. Casey and I flew out with him so he could attend the press conference local official gave.

  This wasn’t grandstanding or a photo op on his part—it was George wanting to be a hands-on governor, wanting to talk to the survivors and console the families of the victims, as well as talk to the first responders and thank them for their dedication.

  Wednesday is spent dealing with the fallout of the shooting. If it was up to George, and he thought it’d stand, he’d sign an EO immediately banning certain types of guns from our state, and banning high-capacity magazines.

  Unfortunately, it’d be the fastest way to get him turfed, and even if it withstood a court challenge, the General Assembly would likely overturn it.

  So he keeps doing what he’s been doing for two years and calls in both the Speaker of the Senate and the House to give them a loud and emotional ass-reaming in his office, for both of them being spineless assholes who won’t twist arms to get pending bills out of committee and moving forward in either branch.

  When that meeting ends, he’s angry and frustrated, and I wasn’t expecting it when I stopped by to give him the latest draft of a speech I’m working on for him and he orders me to lock the door.

  I do, and when I turn back he’s already crossed the office and reaches for my tie, grabbing it and dragging me back to his desk. There, he sits in his chair and puts me on my knees and silently skull-fucks me within an inch of my life while he has me hump his leg. An agonizingly desperate air surrounds him and if you think I hesitated or resisted him in the slightest then you haven’t been paying attention.

  After, he sits there gently stroking my hair with his softening cock in my mouth and stares down at me, his demon temporarily sated.

  When I see glimpses of George like this, it leaves me wondering if he acted like this with Ellen. If she also helped calm and steady him in a similar way. If so?

  Then it’s a miracle we didn’t lose him before now.

  Thursday night, George is speaking at a small, private fundraiser at a residence not far from his house, some old college friends of his. Casey’s not going and tells me I don’t have to, either, because it’s more like a dinner than an event.

  But she doesn’t ask me to come over to her place, and neither does George.

  Before I leave work I stop by his office to say good-night, and he’s on the phone and has the TEMA director and TDOT commissioner
sitting at his desk, so I give him a wave and he nods to me.

  He looks…drained. Fucking exhausted.

  Like the George of January and before. Like he hasn’t been sleeping.

  My heart aches for him. Especially when his gaze catches mine and I can see my own longing mirrored there.

  Fortunately, this Friday evening, we don’t have to be anywhere. Casey had already cleared George’s schedule for this weekend, other than a charity fundraiser late Sunday afternoon that all three of us will attend. Her orders to me are, when George will let me, to work on budget review stuff with him. I’m glad we don’t have to go anywhere until Sunday, because it’s been raining like crazy and supposed to be wet and dreary all weekend long.

  I’m sure I’ll be spending most of the weekend naked and collared and, hopefully, kneeling at his feet in the living room while we actually work.

  For now, I’m on my back on George’s bed, in his favorite position for me—tied with my knees bent so my heels touch my ass, legs spread wide, back rounded, and additional ropes running up to the headboard in conjunction with a pillow shoved under my hips to help keep me that way. George has just spent the better part of an hour beating and edging me before putting me in this position. I’ve got a ball gag in my mouth because Sir discovered he likes to make me drool and repeat myself with gagspeak.

  Fucking sadist.

  Please note the smile on my face as I say that.

  Since he’s spent all day at work teasing me in anticipation of this moment, we’re both eager to get to the fucking. I desperately need this weekend with him and I know George damn sure needs it.

  Except Sir always makes me pay the price first.

  I thought I heard something, and it was obvious Sir either didn’t hear it, or was expecting it. So I figured maybe it was Casey and didn’t bother to signal to Sir.

  Except we both freeze when we hear a female voice call out that’s definitely not Casey.

  “Hey, Dad? You up here?”

  Aussie raps on the bedroom door and George literally dives off the bed, slamming it shut as she tries to open it.

  His eyes widen, and I’d be laughing my ass off right now if it wasn’t stuffed full with a vibrating butt plug.