24. Graham
24
GRAHAM
T here’s guilt, of course, but there’s also the way I feel about Silas, and overnight, those feelings begin to eclipse everything else. It starts that morning in the Chelsea apartment where we kiss, and he says he wants to see me more often. That he doesn’t want another week to pass with no contact—he wants more . He wants me to come back to the gym.
“In public?” I ask.
“Humor me. I’ll be good.”
“Okay.” It’s easy to agree to. It’s not as though I ever stopped wanting to see him. Working out together provides its own set of physical challenges, some more innocent than others, but it feels like the least I can do. It’s not as if I have much to offer him, but I want to give him all that I can for as long as I can. The urge comes from an entirely different place than it does when I think of what I want for Avery.
I owe Avery a life. I made promises to her.
With Silas, I don’t feel any obligations. I only want him . I want the way he looks at me and the way he touches me. The way he seems to have surrendered to the fate of us .
Working out with him is different now. It’s fun. I recognize his teasing for what it is, and I also recognize when he’s hitting on me. He makes me laugh and blush with expert efficiency, and I would never have known he could smile as much as he does.
If he’s not genuinely happy, he’s at least in a better mood than I’ve ever seen him. By Wednesday, I’ve given him a key to the Chelsea apartment, and I begin to bring my work there in the mornings after Avery leaves for Pilates or coffee with friends.
Silas doesn’t spend nights there, but he never fails to meet me. Sometimes he sleeps, and I work. Mostly we have sex. Mind-blowing, intense, soul-wrenching sex. When Thanksgiving comes, it’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing him since he texted me that Monday morning and changed everything.
On Black Friday, I text him in a near panic because Avery is convinced she’s ovulating. He tells me to call him when I get a minute alone. I hole up in the bathroom that night and dial his number. He answers on the first ring.
“Is this about getting her pregnant or is it about me?” he asks without even saying hello.
“Both,” I admit.
“If you think about it, getting her pregnant means you won’t have to have sex with her again anytime soon.”
“What about you?” I ask.
“Are you breaking up with me already?”
“No.”
“I know what your life is, Graham. I wouldn’t be with you if I couldn’t handle it.”
“But you’re not with me. You’re in Queens.”
“I can get away. You want to talk to Avery—see if she minds if I join?”
I bark out an unexpected laugh.
“I could sit on your face, teach you how to eat me out while she rides your dick, and you wouldn’t even see her.”
“Jesus,” I breathe. We haven’t done that yet. We’re not very good at foreplay. The thought makes me want him even more. I still don’t think I’m the kind of lover he deserves—still wonder what the hell he sees in me, and I’m more than willing to try anything.
But Avery’s gotten more possessive—more determined to have a family with me. We haven’t tried since the last failed attempt before this thing with me and Silas caught on fire. I’m horny as hell, but not for her. The only feeling that stirs inside me at the thought of being alone with her is dread.
“You’re such a good kisser. I know you’ll be magic at it,” he’s saying. “Such a great tongue. Such a wet mouth.”
“Are you…?”
“Touching myself? Maybe.”
“Where are you?” I whisper.
“My old room. Where are you?”
“The upstairs bathroom.”
“Are you hard?”
“Yes,” I say, palming my rapidly rising dick.
“Touch yourself for me.”
I shut my eyes, letting his warm voice flood my mind. “I am.”
“How does it feel?” he asks.
God, I’m in my parents’ bathroom, and I’m more turned on than I have any right to be after a large meal and the amount of wine I drank. I blame the wine for the words that come out. “Not half as good as you do wrapped around me.”
“Mmm…” He practically purrs his pleasure.
“Will you eat me out, puppy?”
I’m fucking dying to. “You know I will.”
“I didn’t, actually, but I like it when you say it like that. Sounds so good. Is your cock out?”
“Um…”
“Get it out for me. It’s too pretty to hide in whatever khakis you’re wearing.”
He knows me too well already. I unzip the khakis and pull my dick through the slit in my shorts, fisting it tight because I don’t want to come, which isn’t to say my body doesn’t want it. My body wants it too much. Precum is seeping from me, and I swipe it with my thumb and making myself shiver with excitement.
“God, I love that sound,” he says.
Did I make a sound? I need to shut up or someone’s going to hear.
Why does that make me want this more? I give myself a tug, and this time, I hear my soft groan.
“Can I tell you what I like?” Silas asks, semi-breathless.
“Yes.” I spit on my palm and jerk myself in earnest.
“I like having my rim teased and flicked. Drives me fucking crazy. You’d really do that for me?”
“Yeah.” Anything . I’ll do anything he wants.
“You’d be a good little puppy and lick me all around my tight hole?”
“ God… ” More precum. “Yes.”
“And if I begged for more?”
“Tell me what you want,” I breathe. I’m too close. Way too close.
“Your tongue inside me. Thick and hot and wet. I want you to spit on me and suck me. And then lick me again like a hungry puppy.”
Cum erupts from my tip, shooting so hard, the first spurt clears my pants and lands on the floor. I grab for the toilet paper and attempt to staunch the flow as my balls convulsively release more and more.
“ Fuck ,” I hear him groan. “God, you’re so fucking hot. I’m coming. I’m fucking coming for you, Graham.”
I squeeze the wad of toilet paper around my dick and bend over, the breathy grunts of his own release pounding my eardrum and making me tremble.
A sharp rap on the door nearly makes me choke .
“Babe? You all right?”
“One second,” I manage to say, and then into the phone I whisper, “I have to go.”
“Wait,” he says, and it sounds like he’s still beating off, still coming.
Dropping the tissue, I put my hand on my heart and rub, trying to reconcile my arousal and my guilt. Guilt isn’t anything new for me, and it too often accompanies arousal, so it shouldn’t be so hard to handle, but this time it is. There’s something else to what I’m feeling now.
“I miss you,” he says finally.
“Are you drunk, babe?” Avery calls out.
“Make her shut up,” Silas says.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. I’ll be back down in a minute.”
“I don’t want you to come down,” she says. “I want you to meet me in bed.”
“She didn’t just say what I think she said, did she?” he asks darkly.
“I told you,” I hiss, my mouth cupping my phone so my voice doesn’t travel.
“Good luck getting hard,” he says, and for the first time, I hear his jealousy. Maybe he’s incapable of hiding it after what we just did.
“I miss you, too,” I tell him, hating everything about this.
“See you Monday morning?” he asks, somewhat grudgingly.
“I’ll be there,” I promise him.
“Good. Now go get her pregnant and get this shit over with.”
I look down at the soaked tissue and my cum on the floor. It would take a miracle…
This is a splurge, and I hope I don’t regret it. Things with Silas and me have been tense over the last week. Next week, the pregnancy tests will start, and I need us to have this just in case…
In case she is pregnant, and he stops wanting me.
He’s dressed in a nice suit as we make our way through Penn station. We look like two businessmen, traveling together. A senator and his aide, I hope. Or a body man, considering how broad his shoulders are and his obvious musculature even in the suit. It fits him like a sin.
People notice me. Most don’t say anything and only spare a passing glance at Silas.
I have meetings in DC for the next two days, and I thought it might be romantic to bring him with me. It’s definitely better than being stuck with my dad. I’ve reserved a first class private room on the train and a luxury hotel suite. I’m thinking champagne, room service, as much sex as we can handle…
We stop to take a few selfies with the bolder constituents. I accept their congratulations and patiently listen to then tell me all the things they want me to do once I’m sworn in.
Silas grimaces all the way, especially at the people who say things like—“Don’t let those bastards take my guns,” or “don’t take any shit from those woke libs.”
“I fucking hate people,” Silas grumbles as we arrive at the platform.
“I happen to like woke libs if it makes you feel any better,” I tell him.
He gives me a side-eye. “You sure seem to like fucking one.”
“That too,” I assure him.
“I think I’ll like you better if you stick with defending the first amendment.”
“I can do that,” I tell him. It’s as good a position as any to take for the next six years. It’s not like I have a core of unshakeable values other than what I’ve been told my whole life. I’m open- minded, willing to hear other points of view. Willing to learn and compromise.
He gives his head a stiff shake. “Don’t. You don’t have to humor me.”
I wasn’t, but I keep my mouth shut until the train arrives, and we board. An attendant directs us to our private room, and we squeeze in along with our overnight bags. It’s tight, but I like that for me and Silas. We need the proximity. He’s been more stint since Thanksgiving, and I need to change that if I can. If he’ll let me.
We strip off our jackets and situate our luggage, taking seats on opposite sides to wait until our assigned server arrives. Once that happens, and I let them know not to disturb us further, I’ll be able to relax. It’s just after four in the morning. Silas is exhausted and grumpy, but I’m determined to get him into a better mood. I booked this room for a reason, and it wasn’t to sleep.
“I wasn’t humoring you,” I say, picking up where we’d left off.
He glances away from the window to meet my eyes. They flash dark in the dimly lit cabin.
I go on. “All I’ve been doing the last month is studying the constitution and the federalist papers. You like the constitution at least, right?”
“What I know about it,” he says.
“I feel like you should trust me not to do anything that would disappoint you.”
“I didn’t vote for you, Graham.”
“I figured. Did you at least vote?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Either way—I’m representing all of New York, not just the people who voted for me.”
“I don’t wanna talk about this,” he says with a note of warning in his voice.
I sigh. “Fine. Can we reset, then? I feel like we’ve gone back a few steps. ”
His glare levels me. “Is that what this is about?” He waves his arm at the tight space.
“Yes,” I admit.
He takes another slow look around. “It’s cool.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“A little risky, but I don’t mind if you don’t.”
I shrug. In terms of risk, it’s a calculated one. It’s the middle of the night, and most people will be sleeping. He and I may even be sleeping if I fail at turning his mood around. There are two single beds in here—no reason to suspect we shared too much space if we end up getting closer than this.
“I know this thing with Avery is bothering you,” I say.
“It’s bothering you, too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Your Catholic guilt is showing.”
I wince. “Maybe. But I’d rather deal with that than have you barely speaking to me.”
“Eventually, you’re gonna have to make a choice.”
It’s not that I disagree, but I’d prefer to live in denial a little longer. Who knows what could change if I actually do manage to get Avery pregnant. Silas could drop me like a bad habit. My own guilt might choke me, and I might do the same to him. But the more time I spend with him, the harder it is to remember how I lived without him for so long. I’m getting attached. “You don’t trust me,” I say.
“It’s not exactly that.”
“Then is it the fact that this relationship is going nowhere fast?”
“We’re calling it a relationship now?”
“What would you call it?” I ask.
“An affair?”
“Technically, I guess, but I don’t see it like that.”
Silas gives me a look that implies I need to elaborate.
“If anything, I feel like I’m cheating on you when I’m with her. ”
“I gathered that when you called on Thanksgiving.”
“What do you need me to say, Silas?” I ask, desperate to fix whatever this is.
He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a knock on the door. I get up to deal with the attendant who checks our tickets, offers to bring us coffee, and asks if we need anything else.
I politely decline, telling him we’re just settling down to sleep.
“Call if you need anything, sir.”
“Thank you.” I give him a twenty and send him on his way, locking the door behind him.
As I turn to face Silas, the train moves. It unsteadies me, and I grab onto the wall to avoid tumbling on top of him. He grabs me by the belt buckle and tugs me toward him. I wind up next to him on the bench seat. He faces me, his legs crossed my way.
“I’m not trying to end this,” he says.
I keep my expression mild, but my heart is pounding. The scent of him is an aphrodisiac so potent, one whiff and I’m stiffening in my pants.
“It’s more like I need to be sure you’re in it.”
“So, it is about trust?”
“In a way. Maybe. How often do you think about me?”
Constantly. “All the time,” I tell him.
“Like all day every day? Because that’s how often I’m thinking about you.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Even when you’re inside her?”
Especially then. “I haven’t touched her since Thanksgiving.”
“She hasn’t tried anything?”
“She…I mean…she tries.”
“And what do you do?”
“I try and gently remind her that wasn’t part of the deal.”
“And how does she take that?”
This is where the guilt comes screaming in. “Sometimes better than others. ”
“Are you sure there’s no part of you that wants her that way?”
“What does this mean to you?” I ask instead of answering.
“I just wonder if maybe she should know about us,” he says.
“Are we an us?”
His hand slides along my jaw and he drops his forehead against mine. “Fuck, I don’t know. But if we were, would you be willing to tell her?”
I haven’t ever thought about it. A month ago, I might have thought she would understand and be okay with it. Now I’m less certain. A lot less. I decide to go with the truth. “I don’t think she’d be okay with it.”
His fingertips press into the back of my neck as he drags in a long breath. “Oh.”
“There’s no part of me that wants her that way,” I say, answering his earlier question.
“Because you want me?”
“So much,” I whisper.
Silas kisses me, and it steals all the air from my chest. “I’m fucking crazy about you,” he says before moving to straddle my lap. He grabs my face, and kisses me again.
I’m instantly lost in him. Wrapped around me, his kiss consumes me, and I surrender to it. With my hands on his ass, I rock my hips up to feel his cock against mine. He leans back, takes one of my hands, and runs it up his chest. My palm passes over a firm ridge beneath his shirt, between his pecs, and then another. I frown.
“What is this?”
“Unwrap me and find out.”
My eyes widen as I meet his. “Is this an early Christmas present?”
“Something like that.”
Silas loosens his tie while I untuck and unbutton his shirt to reveal a brown leather harness. The straps over his shoulders form a V joined to a metal ring where two other straps form a boundary for the lower side of his pecs, displaying them in a way that makes his muscles look like mounds. His nipples are erect, begging for my mouth. I oblige them, wrapping my mouth around one and sucking it greedily. He runs his fingers through my hair and groans.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the harness, but it looks so hot on him, I don’t care. “Is there more?”
“Keep going and find out.”
I need to suck his other nipple first, though, my hand moving firmly over the one I abandoned. His back arches, giving his chest to me, and he pants softly. I flick my tongue over the erect tip and glance up to find his head thrown back, his lips parted. He looks like a god. All-powerful and pure hedonist.
I suck until I’m sure I’ve left a mark and return to the other side to do the same.
“Fuck,” he whimpers. “You like it?”
“I never want you to take it off.”
He strips off his shirt and unbuckles his belt. I help him with his fly, and his hips rise. When I yank his pants down as far as they’ll go, I see the rest. They’re not panties—I’m not sure how I’d have felt about that—but they’re not normal briefs either. Black cloth covers his cock, and mesh on the sides exposes his hips. It’s a skimpy pair of underwear designed for a man strapped to leather that encircles his muscular thighs. “Jesus Christ.”
“Do you still like it?”
“Fuck yes. Jesus, Silas, I need you.”
He kisses me as we get rid of my shirt and tie, pulling at them in frenzied tugs. Our mouths crash repeatedly together, our tongues lashing and stroking. We both stand to get rid of our pants, and I take note of our surroundings. There’s an overhead luggage shelf in the corner I can definitely use. “Grab that.” I nod toward it.
He turns, and I see the real prize. The mesh doesn’t go all the way around. It’s a jock, exposing his gorgeous, bare ass, made even more amazing by the straps beneath it, plumping it up in a way that would tempt any man, gay or straight. I palm it with both hands. “Your body, Silas…”
“Use it,” he says. “Fuck it. I fucking need you inside me.”
I will. I need that, too. But first, I drop to my knees.