Solace (Devastation Trilogy Book 2) Page 8

  Maybe I’m self-medicating with all of this, seeking fleeting solace in our play.

  Except there’s no maybe about it.

  As with Casey, I know if I turn myself over to George that he’ll shut off my brain and vaporize every other thought in my head.

  I’ll gladly let him. I desperately need that forced oblivion tonight.

  It beats the alternative of doing something fucking stupid and brings me some measure of solace.

  The pain in my cock, where it’s trying to stretch and flex inside its restraint, anchors me to the here and now.

  To Him.

  It’s difficult to believe it’s only been a few weeks since my world flipped on its axis.

  George covers my hand with his right and leans back in the seat, spreading his thighs and slowly rocking his hips against my palm. Meanwhile, he reaches over with his left and pulls my jacket aside to flick my right nipple through my shirt and undershirt.

  I clamp down on my lower lip to bite back the needy moan struggling for release almost as much as my dick is demanding freedom. As the sweet cloud of subspace fills my brain, I give in to it and lean my head against the seat.

  “Boy,” he whispers.

  I force my eyes open and turn my head, watching him.

  Hunger blazes in his blue gaze. I have a feeling he’s not far from ordering me to my knees in front of him, right there in the backseat.

  God help me, I’d do it, too.

  I even lick my lips, my mouth watering.

  Maybe I should have known all those years of Casey forcing me to take my own cum had a purpose behind them. Or was it a fortuitous happenstance?

  Who knows, and who cares? My body is conditioned to expect pleasure when I comply, whether it’s a simulated cock coated in my own juices, or George’s cock fucking my mouth.

  His hand slides down my abs, between my legs, a smile curling George’s lips as he taps all around the cage. The vibrations only make my cock harder, making me whine, needy and aching.

  When his fingers find the lock he plays with it, jiggling it through my slacks. The bastard’s smile widens as my desperation blossoms.

  Then he releases my hand and fishes his keys out of his pocket, the meaning clear.

  Especially when he lays his hand over mine again, the keys between his palm and my hand.

  On that keyring is the one that unlocks the chastity cage.

  I have no clue when I’m going to be allowed relief. Before this, George took great pride in giving me release nearly as often as he could get me off.

  As if reading my mind, he chuckles. When he speaks, it’s in a whisper I know the driver can’t hear. “There were lots of times I would make Ellen spend all day and evening worked up and horny before I allowed her to come that night.”

  He squeezes my hand again, the keys digging into the back of mine and adding an additional hungry jolt to my cock’s response. “Take comfort in the fact that I never let my girl go to sleep at night unsatisfied. I make that same promise to you, as long as you’re with me and not Ma’am that night.” He cocks his head as he watches me. “And it amuses the absolute fuck out of me to see how horny you are right now.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He withdraws his left hand and props his elbow against the seat, his head resting on his hand.

  Smiling.

  That smile.

  The cross between evil and amused and sexy, all rolled into one.

  “Also means I have another way of taking any missteps you make at work out of your ass. Literally.”

  Oh, shit. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Can’t wait for your next performance review.” His evil smile widens. “I’m going to tell Casey I want to handle it personally.”

  I know I’m in for a wild ride from here on out. Although I greatly prefer this version of George to the nearly dead one we painstakingly nursed back to the land of the living.

  That it helps quiet my own tortured soul is a bonus.

  Chapter Nine

  Then

  Today, I rode to the office with Casey. That saves me a little gas money. Besides, riding in her Mercedes is great. I can think about what my life will be like once I’m in practice and earning.

  Hell, staying in her house with her is a great motivator. She’s only lived in the new place a couple of years now, and it’s massive. It’s every bit as large as George and Ellen’s house, and they have three kids.

  It’s Friday. Tonight when we prepare to leave the office, after I’ve gathered her laptop case, briefcase, and other items to carry for her, she also hands me her car keys.

  “I’ll go put these in the car for you, ma’am.”

  I always call her “ma’am” at work. It’s polite, for starters. I use ma’am, and sir, and please, and thank you. My mom raised us right, and impressions are everything in this business. That’s something else Casey drove into my brain—to act the part, fake it until I make it.

  “No,” she says. “You’re driving us home.”

  My heart pounds, throbs. “Ma’am?”

  That playful smile of hers always hits me hard in the feelz. Yes, I’ve masturbated to countless sexual fantasies about Casey, but she’s fifteen years older than me and probably sees me as a little brother. I’ve never had a girlfriend, because I don’t have time for one.

  If I ever want to take my revenge, and want to silence the voices in my head that insist I’m a faker, all I have time for right now is school and work. Relationships can come later.

  I really don’t even have friends. I mean, I do, but they’re all older than me—attorneys, or clerks and paralegals in the law office, or their family members. Casey is best friends with George’s wife, Ellen, and they’ve known each other since college. They frequently invite to social gatherings with them, which is nice.

  Everyone treats me like I’m an adult, not like I’m only eighteen. People I encounter through the law firm, people who don’t know me, assume I’m either a junior associate, or a paralegal, or that I’m already in law school.

  It helps alleviate my imposter syndrome a little when they invariably act surprised in a good way when I reveal my age, because they almost always think I’m at least ten years older than I am.

  Unfortunately, the voice quickly creeps back into my brain.

  The one that tells me I’m worthless, that I’ll never be anything. That people like me can’t succeed. I know it lies but that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore.

  We’re the last ones out of the office tonight. She locks up and sets the alarm while I’m nervously adjusting the seat and mirrors in her car. She shoots me a playful smile when she slides into the passenger seat.

  “You know the only problem with this, don’t you?” she asks.

  I nervously shake my head. “No, ma’am.”

  She reaches over and pats me on the thigh. “I could get used to having a driver. This might spoil me, boy.”

  I finally laugh, some of my tension easing. “I’ll be happy to drive you around, ma’am. It’s the least I can do for you. Especially in your car.”

  A little disappointment trickles through me when she withdraws her hand from my leg. I know the innocent contact will make its way into my fantasies tonight, though.

  That her hand didn’t stop there. That it crept up my thigh and between my legs, and—

  When my cock starts to sound off in my slacks, I swallow and force the daydream out of my head. If I don’t want to crash her expensive car, I need to focus.

  Casey would never be interested in me. This I know because she has no trouble getting dates and going out. She’s dated at least a dozen men in the time I’ve known her.

  Men, not boys.

  Let’s add to that she’s never acted even slightly inappropriate with me. The last thing I want to do is creep her out. She is literally my only family.

  She’s also my future co-conspirator, but we don’t talk about that right now. We made a deal when she first walked into my life, but nothing will h
appen until after I get my law degree and pass the bar.

  Until then, I promised to work my ass off toward that goal first. Then we’ll both be in a better position to decide how to get the justice my sister and the others deserve.

  “Have you decided what you want for dinner tonight?” I ask.

  While I live with her, even though she didn’t ask me to, I take care of all the chores. I’m not paying fair market value for my room and board—literally, she’s only charging me fifty bucks a week. She won’t let me pay her more.

  I’m expected to clean up after myself, obviously, and do my own laundry, but she has a housekeeper who comes in once a week.

  Still, I do laundry, cook, take care of the kitchen clean-up, and do other things for her while I’m between semesters. It’s not only gratitude on my part—it’s a form of self-preservation. I want to make sure I don’t wear out my welcome with her. I really don’t have anywhere else to go when I’m not in the dorms.

  Plus, I enjoy doing things for her. I like the way she smiles at me, the way she thanks me. It makes her happy when I do things for her.

  Yeah, that’s a little selfish of me, and I’ll own it, but it’s mutually beneficial, too, so shut up.

  “What do we have?” she asks.

  I list the several possibilities I could quickly prepare, and she picks spaghetti and meatballs. I make the meatballs by hand, too. Mom taught me how. Then I bake them while the sauce is simmering. The sauce isn’t totally from scratch—I start with pre-made sauce as my base, and it quickly works up from there.

  When we return to her house, I’m more careful than I’ve ever been in my life as I pull into her garage. I park in there, too, but my car’s a few steps up from a beater.

  Hers is worth at least fifty grand, or more.

  “You didn’t have to sit on the floor to label those fliers,” she tells me as I shut off the car. “You could’ve used the conference room.”

  I feel a little embarrassed. “I enjoyed the company, ma’am.” When I look, I find her gaze focused on me, intensely inquisitive.

  It makes me blush.

  “Still no girlfriend?” she asks.

  The heat in my cheeks feels thermonuclear now. “No, ma’am,” I quietly admit. “I’m working too hard to screw things up now.”

  She slowly nods. “You are wise beyond your years, Dec. That’s one of the things I love so much about you.”

  Fuuuuck. Yes, this will all end up in the spank bank later. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Casey,” she insists. “Or Case. Just not at work.”

  “Casey.”

  She smiles, patting my thigh again, squeezing. “Please bring my things into the house and let’s enjoy our evening.” She opens her car door and climbs out before I can reply.

  I grab her things and carry them inside, setting them on the couch where I usually do. She’s already heading upstairs, and I follow. I don’t want to get spaghetti sauce on my suit.

  I change into shorts and a T-shirt. Her bedroom door is still closed when I emerge and head down to the kitchen to start dinner.

  I’m standing at the counter and making the meatballs when I sense her walk into the kitchen behind me. “It’ll be about an hour, ma’am,” I say. “I mean, Casey.”

  “Good.”

  Something about her tone of voice makes me glance back over my shoulder, and I nearly choke on my own tongue.

  She’s wearing a black satin bathrobe, untied, over a short black nightgown. Did I think she was beautiful?

  I was wrong. She’s fucking gorgeous.

  I…

  Holy fuck.

  I’m certain I’m going to pass out from the sudden oxygen deprivation in my brain. My cock tents my shorts and she smiles as she walks over and looks up at me. She’s barefoot, and that puts her five inches shorter than my five-ten.

  She looks up at me and wears a playful smile. “How about I make a deal with you, Declan?”

  “A…d-deal?”

  “You’re eighteen now.”

  “Legal age,” I think, then realize I stupidly said it out loud when her smile widens.

  “Exactly. Although I will not deny last year was a testament to my self-control.”

  My throat is totally dry. “Your self-control?” I’m the one who nearly yanked off my cock while masturbating in my private bathroom or in my bed over fantasies about her.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Her eyebrow arches and she indicates my obvious erection. “This conversation should be considered privileged, by the way. On both sides. Understood?”

  I nod. “Understood.”

  “Not to have me a Mrs. Robinson moment here, but you and I have a common goal, and there’s something you need to know about me. I have reasons I date so frequently, but I was only sleeping with one particular man, who is no longer in the picture because he moved away for work last month.”

  I nod again, because I think I’ve temporarily forgotten how to speak English. Or Spanish.

  She steps closer. “You and me,” she says. “Because I’ve noticed the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. But only you and me. It also has to stay secret. And you have to be okay with it looking like I’m dating other guys.”

  I’m eagerly nodding now. If this is going the way I think it’s going?

  Ooohhhh, fuck yeah, I’m in.

  She reaches up and cups my cheek, her thumb gently brushing my flesh. “I’m also in charge,” she adds, a steely tone seeping into her voice. “Period. I’m in charge, and you do what I say. I need to be in charge, for reasons you don’t need to know right now. Is that something you can agree to?”

  Hell, she was already in charge. I happily followed her directions because she knew what the hell she was talking about. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Have you ever had sex before?”

  My face has to be completely red. “No, ma’am.”

  “You and I have a…plan,” she says. “Long-term plan. Don’t we?”

  I swallow hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I do.”

  “The reason our relationship has to stay secret is complicated. For a lot of reasons. We can be known as good friends. But there will come a point where I’ll need to hire you on as staff for a campaign, or for a political post. If people know we’re in a relationship, it’ll make that impossible. In fact, I’ll need you to help sell the story when it appears I’m dating other guys. I might need you to introduce me to people. The easiest way to meet the people I need political connections with is by attending events with someone.”

  I’m tracking. “Introductions.”

  She nods. “Introductions. And there will be times I’ll trade favors and introductions by taking someone to an event with me.”

  “Quid pro quo,” I say.

  “Exactly. But I promise you, no matter what it might look like, I won’t have sex with any of them, only you. If you need to go out on dates to make it look like you’re having relationships, that’s fine, too. As long as I’m the only one you’re sleeping with.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “I also need one other concession from you, which won’t make sense to you right now. If we are ever confronted about our relationship, I need you to lie and say that we have an agreement between each other that we can sleep with others as long as we talk to the other about it.”

  That sort of puts a damper on my enthusiasm. “Why?”

  “Politics and appearances. But rest assured, no matter what it looks like, I won’t be sleeping with anyone else. I need to cultivate a certain…reputation. If our relationship is ever exposed, I don’t want people thinking you’re some sort of cuckold beholden to me. That’ll diminish your power and rep. I want people thinking you’re an equal partner in this and with the same freedoms I appear to have.”

  It takes me a moment to digest all that. “That’s a pretty…ruthless strategy.”

  “It is. It’s also the best way to achieve our goal.”
/>
  She’s got a point. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I mean this is long-term, too. Not just a few months, or until after you graduate. This will be ongoing. But I’m never going to get married. I’m not marriage material, and that’s something else you’ll have to be okay with. At some point…after, depending on our other circumstances, we might be able to go public with our relationship. But that will be on my timetable, not yours.

  “In return, I’m going to make sure your legal and political educations are extensive. I’ll introduce you to the most powerful people in this state.” Her smile widens. “And I’ll blow your mind in bed. All I ask for in return is loyalty, obedience, secrecy, and fidelity. I’ll give you all that in return, despite what it might appear to be publicly. Does that sound like something you can handle?”

  I swallow to form spit. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Excellent. How about you finish making our dinner, and then I’ll help you with the dishes so we can get right to business of consummating this?”

  I nod and start to turn back to the counter, but she stops me.

  She’s still cupping my face. She rises up on her toes and kisses me, and I want to drop to my knees and weep with happiness at how perfect it feels.

  “That is just a sample,” she says. “Tonight, I’m going to ride you to exhaustion. Tomorrow, we might just spend the whole day in bed.”

  She steps away and leaves me standing there, my cock aching and probably leaking all over my briefs.

  Hoooooly fuck.

  * * * *

  I honesty couldn’t tell you much about dinner. I prepared it without burning the crap out of myself or serving it raw. How’s that?

  After everything’s cleaned up, she takes me by the hand and leads me to her bedroom.

  Not going to lie—I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  She sits me on the edge of her bed and pulls my T-shirt up and off over my head, dropping it to the floor.

  “Oooh.” I’m hoping her playful smile means that was a good comment.

  She nudges my knees apart to stand between my thighs. There, she drapes her arms around my neck. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with my hands, so I tentatively reach out and rest my hands on her hips.