Solace (Devastation Trilogy Book 2) Page 22

  “Yeah, so was I. Thanks for that.” I take my stuff out and get the laundry going. When I return, I go right for a beer. I don’t even care what time it is—I earned the damn thing.

  “Are you okay with me staying here?” I ask.

  Her brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I mean…with your dad.”

  She might look like her mom, but she’s got her dad’s Dom eyebrow down pat. “Again, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I’m just checking.”

  Ashleigh laughs but doesn’t comment.

  “It’s fine, Dec,” Aussie says. “It’s even fine if Aunt Casey comes over and spends the night, too.” The Dom eyebrow stays in place.

  I sigh. At least she’s eighteen now, so I don’t feel as weird discussing this with her. Although I still feel a little weird about it. “You understand this is super-secret stuff, right? Especially…that.”

  “Absolutely.” She holds out her little finger with a playful grin. “Pinky swear.”

  I laugh and hook pinkies with her. “Pinky swear.”

  Ashleigh adds hers. “Pinky swears all around.”

  “The important thing is Dad’s happy,” Aussie says. She shrugs. “Look, whatever’s going on, as long as all three of you are happy, that’s cool. We’ll do our part to run interference and spread a disinformation campaign, if needed.”

  “I appreciate that. Hopefully, that won’t be needed.”

  I eat dinner with them, stretch out on the sofa—with Petula—to watch TV, but end up falling asleep.

  I guess I needed the nap after the day I had. I feel guilty that I’m not working, but I’m sort of hamstrung without a phone and without my computer.

  When George returns that night a little after ten, he has the things the EPU retrieved for me from my Jag. Petula jogs up to the front door with a happy wiggle to greet him, making him smile.

  “How’s our other guest?” he asks as he pets her. “Is Petula settling in?”

  “So far, so good,” Aussie tells him. “Do we get to keep her for a while?”

  “Looks like it,” George says. “Probably several months. Her mom called Casey back. Both their employers have been flooded out, and they don’t know when they’ll be able to go back to work.”

  “Cool!” Aussie says. “Not that they’re flooded out,” she quickly adds. “Cool that we have Petula. The First Dog.” She grins. “We should try to get a reporter to do a story! This would be great PR.”

  Sir literally rolls his eyes and looks to me for backup.

  I can’t help it—I snicker. “She’s actually not wrong, George. That would be a great PR story. A feel-good piece.”

  “I mean, think about it, Dad,” Aussie says. “Your brave deputy chief of staff risked his life to save a dog, lost his own home, and now you, the governor, are personally taking care of the dog.”

  “Let’s not,” he says. “Because that’ll trigger questions about where Declan’s living.”

  She waves that off. “He’s staying with Aunt Casey,” she says. “And he lived there before, in college. He’s like family to her.”

  Casey arrives about twenty minutes after George and has a suitcase with all my clothes in it from her house. The detail dropped her off there first, and she drove over in her car.

  In total, that gives me two pairs of dress shoes and four full suits, in addition to two pairs of jeans, some shorts and T-shirts and a couple of collared pullovers with the state logo embroidered on them. And my sneakers.

  I don’t know what clothes, if any, will be salvageable once the flood waters go down, but that’s okay. It’s just stuff.

  The girls tell us good-night and offer to take the dog with them. They head downstairs to the guest room in the basement. Casey and George already ate, so the three of us retire to George’s bedroom.

  I’m heading toward the bed when George grabs me, hauls me to him, and kisses me. “You are very lucky, boy.”

  I drape my arms around his neck. “I think so, but why, particularly, Sir?”

  “Because if it wasn’t for Aussie being home tonight, you’d be getting one hell of spanking for scaring the crap out of me today.”

  Casey clears her throat.

  “Us,” he amends. “For scaring the crap out of us.”

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  He pulls me in and hugs me. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Sir.”

  Casey presses against my back, her arms around me. “Love you, boy.”

  “Love you, too, Ma’am.”

  We stand there for a long moment.

  “Shower?” Sir asks.

  “I had one when I got home, Sir.”

  He gives me Dom eyebrow. “Let me clarify that—shower. Now. All three of us.”

  Casey strips off her shirt. “Damn right all three of us.” She heads toward the bathroom. “Fuck this was a long-ass day.”

  I hope this is a good development, and I look up at George.

  He smiles. “We chatted. She agrees that, for tonight, at least, we can be sort of flexible and share you together.”

  After the day I had, and no coffee, I figured the last thing on my mind would be sex.

  My cock, however, has other plans, and perks right up at the thought of being between the two of them tonight.

  I strip and follow George and Casey into the bathroom. They both climb into the shower, and I’m happy to follow. I can’t help but notice how George watches Casey, how he perks up a little over her.

  Well, she is beautiful.

  I’m once again sandwiched between them, George behind me this time, Casey in front.

  “Can I add something?” George quietly says. “If what I went through today is even a fraction of the anxiety and grief you went through when I…” He sniffles. “I’m sorry I put you all through that.”

  I tip my head back against him. “But we both came back.”

  “Thank god,” Casey says. She kisses me, her arms encircling me but reaching behind me, around George, too. When she ends her kiss with me, she smiles at George. “Come here.”

  He leans in and she kisses him. Right there, so close I can nuzzle in. And, before long, that’s exactly what I’m doing, too. Nuzzling in and kissing them and them kissing me and each other. Along the seam of my ass, I feel George’s cock pressing, hard and ready. My own is aching.

  Casey sighs. “Let me take things slow, okay? I don’t mind kissing you, George, but I’m going to need time before I feel ready to more than that with you. I think I’d like the boy to fuck me tonight while you fuck him.”

  He smiles at me. “What do you think?”

  I wiggle my ass against him. “I’m good with that, Sir.”

  Casey’s smart and goes down on me now, while George holds me and tortures my nipples. His lips are right by my ear.

  “My good boy going to come for me like this?”

  I fucking shiver—I can’t help it. His voice sounds dark and sexy and combined with what Casey’s doing to me, it’s impossible for me to hold back.

  Meaning, by the time we finally finish our long shower, I’ll be ready to go again, and I’ll last a hell of a lot longer while I’m fucking her.

  And that’s exactly what we get to doing, once we’re finished with our shower and move to George’s bed.

  He has fun playing with me, getting me ready while I take time to go down on Casey first. In my wildest fantasies—and darkest hopes—the three of us can eventually end up being together all the time. Living like this full-time, with only the necessary work-related trip to separate us.

  Yeah, absolutely, I’d be good with that.

  Especially if she could eventually bring herself to trust George and want to have sex with him, too. That would be so fucking hot having her in the middle between us like that.

  I’ll never push her for that, though. I know that has to be her decision, and maybe she’ll never be able to bridge that gap.

  But tonight? I’m beyond happy that I get this.


  I think all three of us are going to sleep well tonight.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’ve already made Casey come twice, and now I get to actually fuck her. She wears a wild-eyed look, like maybe I’ve finally come close to disengaging her brain and shutting down her defenses for a little while.

  I know the feeling all too well.

  Once I’ve notched the head of my cock against her and press for entry, George gets into position behind me and starts to do the same.

  I close my eyes, softly moaning against her neck as he works his sheathed cock into me.

  Her hand plays with my hair. “How’s he feel, boy?”

  “Good, Ma’am.” Why lie? It does feel good. I always liked it when she played with me with toys like that. That this particular toy is attached to a living, breathing man is even better. In the beginning, we were both a little hesitant in some ways, but he’s really hit his stride and figured out what works for both of us.

  Ellen was a lucky woman all those years if he was that conscientious a lover for her.

  No, he hasn’t gone down on me, or let me fuck him, and I haven’t asked. That’s his call. I don’t need that to enjoy what we’ve got. If he ever decides to try bottoming, sure, I’ll be happy to do that with him.

  For now?

  I want to enjoy this fantastic fucking sensation of being filled and fucking myself between them.

  Which is what I start to do once he’s in position.

  I open my eyes and stare down into Casey’s. I can tell she’s got her feet braced against George’s thighs, from the angle she’s rocking her hips against me. George’s hands stroke my back and settle on my waist, and she reaches up and lays her hands over his.

  Another of those shivers ripples through me. This is fucking amazing, having them here, together.

  I manage to hold on long enough to get her over one more time, and then thanks to the way George’s cock hits me perfectly in the sweet spot, I’m quickly following her.

  That triggers George’s orgasm, and then he’s fucking me hard, shaking the whole bed as he gets over.

  After a quick clean-up, we finally go to sleep, me in the middle. I’m spooning Casey, and George is spooning me.

  “Not to be a pushy boy,” I mumble, “but I could easily get used to doing this every night.”

  “Me, too,” George says.

  Casey sighs. “I have to admit, this is nice.”

  Those are very nice words to fall asleep to.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Now — August Primary

  Casey agreed Petula was PR gold. Thanks to Casey, the local paper did a story on George and Aussie taking in the wayward hound, and how the governor’s staffer rescued her from the flood.

  Family of Petula’s owners started a GoFundMe. Public donations rolled in, and they were able to afford to start over near Murfreesboro.

  Three weeks after the flood, there was a reporter and photographer on hand to do a story on me getting to meet the couple again and their joyful reunion with Petula.

  I have to admit, I missed her when she was gone, though.

  On paper, I’m renting a room from Casey. Again, it’s not even a scandal, because we’re old friends and I stayed with her before.

  In reality, I’m living at George’s, and I suspect I’m never moving out, if he gets his way. I drive in or ride with Casey many days, since we usually leave earlier than George. That gives us time together we hadn’t had for a while. She tries to spend at least one night a week with us. Some evenings I go to her house first, then she shoos me on home to George after she’s had her fill of me.

  I’ll take it, though. I love getting all this time with them.

  I find I don’t miss jogging by the river now. Wading in floodwaters tends to chill a guy’s ardor for something like that.

  I did retrieve my gun from my closet once the flood waters subsided, and I was able to salvage some things like pots and pans and dishes, but I didn’t bother trying to save anything else, and filed for insurance.

  The flood was a massive blow to the area, but George and lawmakers immediately went to work to get emergency assistance from the federal government flowing into the region.

  The rainfall was the main problem, with already saturated land, and a stalled tropical system on top of the region, it added up to more rain than what triggered the 2010 floods. A near-Biblical deluge.

  Now, we’ve reached the day of the August primary election. We made it this far without a scandal, and without our secret leaking. All we have to do is have a decent showing with tonight’s results, and then make it until the general election in November without blowing our campaign out of the water by doing something fucking stupid.

  Like getting caught on camera kissing or something.

  The small storefront we’d been renting for use as a campaign headquarters in the city was flooded out. We rented a new location, larger, which actually works out better for us, anyway. We were planning on getting a larger headquarters for the push for the final run up to the general, but the flood made that a necessity. The smaller location had been a money-saver, because we’d wanted to use every available dollar for ads in the last weeks.

  Our war chest increased after the story about Petula went viral. We also used that leverage to help highlight local animal shelters and rescue groups, and funnel donations their way.

  Both Casey and I voted early. Today, we want the focus on George and not either of us. We need to rouse him early and get moving so we’re at his polling place first thing.

  From there, we’ll make another stop here in Nashville, then circle the state—Murfreesboro, Knoxville—where Ryder and Logan will meet up with us for a few minutes—then Chattanooga and Memphis. Then back here, to Nashville, to await the results.

  Since we have open primaries in our state, there’s a good chance Democrats might defect and vote for George, but we won’t receive those breakdowns until late tonight or early tomorrow. Exit poll numbers have too much margin of error for my liking. I’ll be too tired tonight to crunch numbers, anyway. Bottom line is, if a lot of Dems defect in the primary and cross the aisle to vote for George, it means George probably has a lock on the win in the general election, and it’ll tell me how and where I need to focus our ad dollars for him.

  Which is why the lap around the state today. Because the more votes he gets, the more the media will talk about him as the presumptive winner for the general, and that’s a narrative we want. Not to look like jerks, but to press the fact that George appeals across the aisle. That he is GOP 2.0 and interested in governing all our state’s residents, not just the ones who voted for him. That he’s not a racist, misogynistic asshole.

  We could easily prove he’s not homophobic, except, ironically, he’d probably lose the race if we did that.

  I’ll be very careful today to literally stay out of the picture, to hang back while George works the rope lines with Casey more visible in the frame. It’s okay if people misinterpret his relationship with her—that’s barely a blip on the scandal meter. A widower two years on, possibly involved with the wife’s single and eligible best friend?

  The public would lap that up. They’d probably excuse the fact that she’s his chief of staff.

  If my relationship with him came to light, however, they’d be screaming it was nepotism, or something along those lines, and demand I be terminated, and that George resign in disgrace. They’d call us perverts, and all the zealot preachers would shriek that we’re going to hell and damning our state. Probably blame the flood on us, too.

  Yeeeah. Suuuurre. Because a consensual relationship between two adults is far worse than, say, past Tennessee political Republican scandals, like when the Speaker of the State House’s male chief of staff hit on female interns and on married female lobbyists.

  Riiiight.

  It’s the smell of coffee brewing that awakens me even before the alarm on my phone can go off. I turn off the alarm, so it doesn’t sound, and I roll over to nuzzl
e George’s cheek. Morning stubble rasps against my lips as I nibble on his earlobe.

  “Time to make the donuts, Sir. It’s election day.”

  He grumbles and rolls toward me, pulling me into his arms and draping a leg over me. “I resign,” he mumbles. “Let someone else do this shit. I want to stay in bed with you.”

  I know he’s kidding, because we’ve gone through a version of this countless times over the past several weeks. “Ma’am’s going to be calling here in a few minutes if I don’t text her we’re up and moving.”

  “Goddammit,” he mutters. Then he lets out a put-upon sigh. “Whose idea was it for me to run for governor, again?”

  I hate myself but I play dirty because of the long game.

  “Ellen, Sir,” I gently say.

  His eyes pop open and he finally lets out another sigh, this one sounding haggard and shaky. “Yeah. Okay.” His gaze meets and holds mine for a long moment before he kisses me. “Love you.”

  I nuzzle my nose against his. “Love you, too, Sir.”

  “That doesn’t bother you, does it?” he asks.

  “Does what bother me?”

  “Ellen.”

  I nuzzle his nose again. “No, Sir. It’d bother me if you didn’t.” Economy of words this morning, because I don’t want him upset before this stressful day.

  Again, this is something we’ve repeated dozens of times now. I find it endearing. He gets into these little…routines, almost. It’s just the way he is. Ellen told Casey he used to do that, too. Things he says or does all the time.

  I love that about him.

  He blows out a long breath. “Okay.” A nod. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Aussie’s going to join us for the watch party tonight at the campaign headquarters, but both Logan and Ryder have classes tomorrow morning, so George asked them to stay in Knoxville. Tonight will, hopefully, not be too exciting, and will produce a comfortable vote margin for him as far as numbers go. I’ll spend the next few days crunching numbers with the consulting team we hired and see where we stand going into the general.

  If he can pull in more votes than all his opponents combined, it’ll take the wind right out of the Democrats’ sails. Especially if the results break down to show a considerable number of Democrats defected to vote GOP.