27. Silas
27
SILAS
“ G od, I fucking missed you,” I say as I back Graham into the apartment door he just walked through and attach my mouth to his. He tastes like mint and winter. February has been a dreary mess. Gray nearly every day and snowing more than I’ve ever seen in New York.
He’s been gone three weeks—doing his junior senator thing in DC, and while the phone sex has been hot, it’s no substitute for the full sensory experience. I need him in my ass—in my mouth—between my legs. Everywhere.
Though I know at some point this will have to end, I have no idea when, and I’m just as surprised as anyone would be that I’m even hotter for him now than I was two months ago when he fucked me on Capitol Hill.
Not that I’ve talked about this with anyone. What’s one more secret when the only person I want to know me already knows them all?
Graham responds hungrily to my kiss, not bothering to try and slow things down. He pushes up my tank top and shoves down my sweats, exposing all his favorite parts of me.
“Fuck me,” I manage to say between long, wet kisses .
“I’ll come in two seconds.”
“Don’t care. I want you inside me.” I turn around to make it easier, watching him over my shoulder so I know when to pounce.
He’s barely pulled himself out when I reach for his cock.
“Lube, Silas—Jesus.”
“I’m lubed. Feel.” I notch him at my hole and snap my hips back, impaling myself on his erection in one quick glide.
He grips my shoulders and groans. His head hits the door. Having him inside me again is so good, so necessary , my eyes fall closed, and my lips part with a helpless moan.
“I missed you, too,” he says, his voice deep and hoarse with desire. His hands move across my abs as we fuck with his back against the door. His cock fits me so well, it’s no wonder I’ve craved him so much. But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he touches me. Digs his nails into me, like he’s trying to claw off a piece to take with him when he goes.
I know what I feel for him is more than want or “like” by now. After dozens of phone calls while he’s out of town and all the mornings we spent together before he left to be sworn in, I’m fucking crazy about him. And I know without having to ask that I’m his first stop after returning to the city.
He’s still waffling about telling Avery about us since she isn’t pregnant yet, and I’ve thought about whether what we’re doing is shitty and wrong—adultery or whatever. But the one time I thought about calling it off—Christmas Eve when we were with our respective families, and Avery was ovulating again—he’d sent me a text saying I wish you were with me tonight , and I knew I couldn’t let him go.
It’s enough to know I’m the one he wants, and since I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him, I want him to have everything his heart desires.
I guess that makes me an idiot, but at the moment, I’m a very well-fucked idiot, and no one’s complaining .
“That’s it,” he murmurs between my shoulder blades. “You feel so good, Sy. Please don’t stop.”
Our affair in a nutshell. I won’t stop. I can’t stop. I need him.
I jerk myself in time with his steady thrusts, whimpering softly with how goddam right he feels inside me. He’s home . “Give me everything.”
Wrapping one arm around my middle, he holds me in place as he comes. The burst of heat, the pressure against my prostate, and my own firm grip send me spinning off the edge of my own cliff.
After a few frozen seconds of ecstasy, we crumple against the door, his breath heavy on the back of my neck, my hand coated with cum. He’s still inside me—aftershocks twitching through us and making me see stars.
When I can speak, I say, “I meant to make you a drink first.”
“With lube in your ass?”
I duck my head and laugh softly. No points for subtlety. “You caught me.”
He kisses my neck and pulls his cock from my hole. I immediately want to plug myself to keep every drop of him in. I pull up my sweatpants before turning to face him.
He’s putting his pants back together, looking at me through the mess of his fallen hair. God, he’s sexy. I wish I could have his babies. Immediately I start to fuss with him, pushing his hair back from his face, straightening his collar. “How was the ride up? You took the train?”
“Yeah,” he says, still breathless and sweaty. He made it onto the judicial committee which was what he wanted and a huge deal for him, but we’ve talked about that already, and he’s got mixed feeling because he thinks it was due to his father’s connections. Still, his appeal has only improved since his time away. He’s an actual senator now. The smartest man I know, and easily the hottest.
I don’t have much to offer in the way of stimulating intellectual discourse, so I hope good sex is enough to help him overlook all the reasons we shouldn’t be happening. But I also don’t want him to think fucking him is the only reason I want him around.
He took an early train home to see me first, but I know Avery’s expecting him later. “How much time do we have?”
“A few hours. Is that okay?”
“One of these days we need to figure out how we can spend the night together again.”
“You’d want that?” he asks, sounding surprised.
“Sure. It’d be fun.” I shrug the suggestion off like it’s no big deal. We’ve certainly been known to do plenty of damage to each other in a few hours, but with a whole night? Maybe drinks, dinner, a movie…falling asleep together. Showering together…
Jesus, I’m a mess. “You hungry?” I ask.
“Are you?”
“Not really.”
He eyes me up and down. “I could use a shower.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He stares at me expectantly. “Did you want me to clean myself?”
I straighten up. “No.”
“Good, because I don’t want to let you out of my sight again until I absolutely have to.”
“When can I see you again?” I ask because he’s turning me into that guy after all.
He immediately rolls over to face me, having been about to leave the bed. “I can make almost any morning work. You know that.”
“I didn’t know if it’d be different since you’ll be working more. ”
“I’ll be here,” he says gently. “For as long as you want me.”
I hate it when he says that. Like I’m in any danger of leaving. “That’s kinda the thing,” I say. “I do want you.”
His frown is confused and kind. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, I mean, but you will at some point, right?” Fuck, why am I doing this now? “Like at some point she’ll get pregnant, and she’ll need you around more when you’re in town. You’ll have a kid.” I might be spiraling. “I know this isn’t forever,” I sum up.
He grimaces, the same way he does every time his marriage enters the conversation. “We don’t have to write the ending right this second, do we?”
“No. I don’t know why I brought it up.”
“Why did you?” he presses.
“Because you’re leaving, I guess.” That’s partly true.
“I don’t mind staying longer if we need to talk.”
God, no. That sounds ominous. I’m supposed to be the fun fling, not the clinging mistress.
Graham shifts uncomfortably, but he firmly plants himself back on the bed, facing me. “You’re different, you know?”
Do I ever. But I’m not sure what difference he’s referring to. “How’s that?”
“Is this enough for you? Am I?”
I swallow hard, feeling dissected, all my soft insides on display. I blame the time apart. Even though we talk every day, he walked in, and I acted like I’ve been dying without him. Like he’s the only thing that could resuscitate me. I showed my hand in a way I think I’ve somehow managed not to until now. I’m usually the king of playing it cool, but not with Graham.
I can easily see why this version of me might be less appealing. I wouldn’t want me like this either. I turn away, reaching for my shorts on the floor next to the bed. “You’re enough. I promise I’m not asking for more.”
“You’re asking about the future… ”
“I just asked when I could see you again, dude. It doesn’t mean I want to run away with you.”
I feel his hand on my shoulder. I freeze, and he says, “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“You can’t be all over me one second and indifferent the next. We’re past that, right?”
We . This whole conversation revolves around that word. That he and I make a unit. An us . I shouldn’t want that. Shouldn’t like the sound of it so much because “we” are doomed. There’s not a grain of hope for “us.”
“If we’re past that, then why would you ask if you’re enough?” I ask.
He sighs. “All I’m saying is I’d understand if you don’t want to wait around for me.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, shirking his touch and getting out of bed. “If you don’t want me, just say it.”
“That’s not even close to what I’m saying.”
“Given the fact that all you had to say was I’ll see you tomorrow or in a few days or next week, it feels like exactly what you’re saying.”
“I feel like shit, Silas,” he says sharply as I’m pulling on my sweats.
“For which part?” I ask.
He doesn’t say anything for several seconds. Not until I turn to face him, impatient.
“For wanting to be with you.”
“Great. That feels amazing to hear you say that. Thank you.”
“Stop it.” He drops his head into his hands. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Why all of a sudden would you think I don’t want this? You’re giving me an out? Why?”
“Because I care about you. Is that not blatantly obvious? I’m not trying to take this too far, but I don’t want it to end. I want to be with you, but?—”
“Then be with me,” I nearly shout. “Tell me when I can see you again and be with me when you’re able to. I’m not asking for more.”
He winces.
He didn’t like that. I don’t get it, though. Why would he want me to give him some ultimatum? I understand what he’s dealing with. Is he looking for an out? “Do you want me to ask for more?” I ask, trying too hard to read between the lines.
To quickly he says, “No. No. Of course not.”
I raise my brows. “Of course not. All right. I won’t ask. For the record—I haven’t.”
Should I? Or would I only be setting myself up for a harder fall? I hesitate to ask for anything while he’s trying to knock up his wife, though. As long as he’s determined to do that, I’m on borrowed time with him. Granted, married men with kids cheat on their wives, too, but somehow, I don’t see Graham being one of them, even if it kills him inside.
But if Avery knew about us…maybe…
“No. You haven’t,” he says bleakly. “You don’t ask for anything except…” He gestures toward the front door.
I put a knee on the bed, contemplating getting closer to him. I’m not sure about it yet, though. “Why are you making it sound like that hurts your feelings?”
Our gazes meet. “Maybe it does.”
I crawl toward him, landing with my hands on his knees. “I want you to be happy.”
He tilts his head, brow drawn in confusion.
I go on. “If it makes you happy to keep me around, I’m not going anywhere. If it’s making you more miserable?—”
He catches my cheek in his hand. “You don’t make me miserable. ”
“I’ll take you, you know? Wife, babies, politics, and everything.”
Graham nods, his thumb brushing across my lips as he stares at their movement beneath his touch.
“I trust you,” I say, which is part of the truth.
“And?”
Asshole. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “And I care …about you, too.”
“Silas,” he whispers.
I press my mouth to his. He opens immediately for me, and I go deep, loving him with my lips and tongue if not my words. He grips me hard, like he’s trying to reassure me that I’m what he wants—what he would take for his own if he could.
That’s enough for me. Knowing I can never really have him is as painful as it is perfect. It leaves me with nothing to lose.