28. Graham
28
GRAHAM
I should have left an hour ago. But Silas on his back with his legs open wide and his dark hole beckoning me is too much to resist. My dick is so hard, it’s painful. The only relief is inside him. The rough squeeze of his ass as I move slowly in and out is the only thing I want. For the last three weeks when it was my hand around my cock and his face or his dick on the screen, this was the pressure I tried to replicate. But there’s nothing like the real thing. The full Silas experience.
The moans, the kissing, the look of exertion on his face as he works as vigorously as I do.
He’s so powerful beneath me. Fucking him is pure, delicious, exhausting pleasure. We move together, strong and steady, sweaty and sexy. We grip each other by the hair, mouths forcefully attached, tongues stroking constantly.
He whimpers as my abs graze his cock, shifting into the angle where I’m stroking his prostate with my crown over and over again. He’s close. His strong thighs tremble against my arms, and his ass clenches forcefully. God. Fuck. He’s good.
He turns his head, my mouth landing on his neck, and he shatters. His cum bursts on my chest, and I look down between us to watch his cock continue to gush and spurt. Somehow he keeps his rhythm until I’m pounding into him, chasing my own release, now imminent from the sight of his.
His hole tightens around me and it feels so fucking good. “Fuck…yes. Fuck .”
And then he says what he says every time he knows I’m about to come. “Give me everything.”
They’ve become my trigger words, setting off a chain reaction of primal need to fill him until he overflows with my cum. It’s instinct. A survival need.
When he lets out a long groan, I’m done for. My teeth bite into his neck, and I drive in to the hilt, releasing my load in pulsing bursts. I move only enough to milk out every drop. When I’m finally empty, I lick and kiss where I bit him and leave my cock buried in his ass. I try not to smother him as I lie on top of him.
He wraps his arms and legs around my back and holds me in place. We breathe heavily into each other’s ears. “That was fucking perfect,” Silas says.
I never know what to say when he compliments the sex. Does he mean his orgasm? My performance? Fucking in general?
Silas has been with other men since I last saw him. They meet him the same way I met him. I’m not jealous exactly. I knew what I was getting into when I started my shameless, ultimately failed flirtation with him. Or maybe it was a huge success? “Is it different for you? When it’s you and me?” I ask.
“Very different,” he says like he’s reading my mind. “For you?”
Is he asking about Avery ? Because it’s almost impossible to compare what I do with Avery to what Silas and I just went through together. That was a fucking journey. Sex with Avery is like a chore. Or a job—like the one he does, I guess. “Of course.”
But where it pinches is that I do care about her. It frustrates me that I haven’t managed to get her pregnant. I want to be able to give her what she wants, too. And there’s still a small, lingering part of me that wishes I could want her . I bury my face in Silas’s neck and try to push all the complicated thoughts away for at least a full minute.
He gives my ass cheek a stroke, a squeeze, and a light tap, indicating it’s time for me to move.
We separate but then turn toward each other in bed. He pushes my hair back from my sweaty face and kisses me. “Maybe you should get going,” he says, drawing away. “It’s like you’re trying to make me spiral.”
“This really doesn’t bother you? My leaving?” I ask.
“Not the way it bothers you,” he mutters.
“You don’t want a real relationship?”
“This is real enough for me,” he says dismissively.
I sit up and look at him. “How is this good enough for you?”
“Didn’t we cover this? You’re gonna make me fucking say it, aren’t you?”
“Say what?”
“ You’re who I want. It’s not complicated. I love you, Graham. There. There it is. Happy? Now I sound like a fucking lunatic.”
Something that feels mostly lethal happens to my heart when the words drop from his mouth. I put my hand on my chest and squeeze, forcing myself to breathe. “You?—”
“Don’t ask me to explain it. You know I’m shit with words. It just happened. One day you were hot and I wanted to fuck you. The next day we were arranging furniture in the Capitol, and it clicked. I couldn’t help it. I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
I’m blown away. Silas isn’t really one to admit defeat unless pressed, and telling me he loves me is the ultimate recognition that the chemistry I’ve always felt with him isn’t one-sided like he once made me believe it was.
When I don’t say anything, he rambles on. “So basically, what I’m saying is I’ll take what I can get. I don’t begrudge you trying to live your life, but if you get to the point where you don’t have time for me, or you can’t justify trying to make it work anymore, I just need you to tell me. Don’t worry, I’ll probably see it coming.”
Something rips inside me. A fragile seam that holds the two halves of my life together frays in an acutely painful way. Silas is who I want. But Avery is the one I made promises to.
“What am I supposed to do?” I whisper.
“I’m genuinely not asking you for anything,” he says. “I just wanted you to know where I’m at. You seem confused about it. Just clarifying.”
I hate when he says he’s not asking for anything. Why not? Why wouldn’t he? Do I seem like I won’t move heaven and earth to give it to him? Am I not bleeding love for him from my pores like it feels like I am? “What if I want to give you everything anyway?”
“Don’t be stupid. You’ve got it all, Senator. Don’t make it complicated. Do what you need to do, and I’ll figure it out.”
My pulse races with instant anxiety. “You mean we — we’ll figure it out.”
“You think you can juggle two people who constantly want your dick?”
Jesus . His saying that makes me want to hold onto his arm and tell him not to let me leave this apartment. Ever again. Because no—I’m not sure I can juggle that, not knowing that I want him more than I want anything .
“Does sharing me make this easier for you?” I ask, my voice not as steady as I’d like it to be.
“Only because she’s a woman,” he says quietly.
“Does that make it not count?”
“You don’t want her,” he says. “Do you?”
I shake my head. “But she is my wife. I care about her.” The truth is, I do love her. But I’m in love with Silas. I’ve been in love with him since the first time I met him in the park. It’s what made his dismissals sting so much. What made me try to deny all these wild feelings.
He nods, not meeting my eyes.
“But not like this,” I add.
“Graham…” He reaches for me, and we meet in a crushing kiss.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…
Please teach me how to have this man.
The word is unmistakable.
Pregnant.
It’s one of those pregnancy tests that leaves no room for misinterpretation. Christmas was the last time I had sex with Avery, which makes her far enough along that she’s had to have known about this awhile now. For at least as long as I was in Washington. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I wanted to tell you in person,” she says.
We’re on the couch. She’s perched, legs crossed beneath her, facing me, a hopeful look on her un-made up face.
“We did it,” I say, my voice watered down and surprisingly weak. Didn’t I think I’d be happier? Relieved?
But my morning with Silas is still so fresh. His words living rent free in my mind. I love you—there it is.
The tear in me rips clean. I’m officially torn between what should make me happy and what actually would, which means I may never be. But then again, is anyone? I smile, doing what I’m supposed to do, which is hug her and tell her, “This is amazing.”
“I know! We did it! I’m so happy.”
I should let that stand because I don’t begrudge her any happiness. She’s gone above and beyond in this marriage of convenience, which makes it that much harder to lie to her—to keep lying.
I pull away gently and hand her back the test stick. “I need to talk to you about something.”
She cocks her head and frowns as she takes it, staring down at the unmistakeable word on it. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but I turn on the cushion to face her, too. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“Oh?” The sound is soft. She doesn’t look up.
“There’s a man,” I say before I can second guess the confession.
“Oh.”
“He knows about us, and I trust him completely, but I wanted you to know because…”
Why the fuck do I want her to know? And now of all times.
I’m patient while she processes this. In a soft voice she finally asks, “Who is he?”
I can’t tell her that. She knows Silas. She sees him all the time—more often than I do, especially in the last month. “Let’s not do that,” I say. “I don’t want to get into details. I just need you to know he’s not a threat to this.” I nod toward the pregnancy test.
“I just thought we…” She shakes her head, give a self-deprecating laugh. “Stupid. Never mind.”
“I know, Avery. And you’re not stupid. That’s why I’m telling you. There’ve been so many times I wish I could—I don’t know— change for you. Be the husband you actually deserve. But I’m still as gay as I was the day we met, and?—”
“How long has this been going on?”
“A few months.”
She looks suspicious. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Not since before we got married?”
“No. ”
“So, it’s not serious,” she states, like she’s willing me to minimize this.
It catches me off guard. The look on my face must give me away.
“I see.” She takes a deep breath. “So what does this mean?”
“It doesn’t change anything.” Those words hurt me to say more than they have any right to.
“Wow, that’s glib,” she scoffs. She tosses the test carelessly on the coffee table, and it skids to the floor.
It’s not like I thought she’d be happy for me, but this feels more like jealousy.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I try to assure her.
Her lips press tightly together. “That’s comforting.”
“I’m sorry, Avery.”
“For what?”
“For not being able to change.”
“You did change, though,” she says. “I mean, if you weren’t lying about never being with a man before. You could have gone your whole life that way, but you changed your mind.”
It’s a strong point, and I don’t know what to say.
After a long silence, she says, “Okay, well…assuming you’re telling the truth now, can I count on you to keep up the act? I mean—obviously I won’t ask you to have sex with me again—but otherwise?”
She’s rallying the way she always does when things don’t go her way. It’s one of the things I like most about her—the ability to find a silver lining in shitty situations. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, the same way Silas assured me just hours ago.
After a thoughtful moment, she nods, then holds out her pinky. “Swear.”
I lock my little finger with hers immediately. “We’re having a baby,” I remind her, not only because I want her to refocus on the good news, but also to remind her that I’ll be true to my word. I’m in this with her all the way .
Tears are in her eyes as she manages a trembling smile. “I’m glad you found someone you can be yourself with.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“You’re my best friend,” she tells me. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Not everything,” I say softly. “I realize that.”
“Well…no one really has everything.”
Silas told me I do, but even now with the truth in the open, it doesn’t feel like it. Still, there’s a weight off. A relief. And, I admit, excitement for what’s to come—a family—one I truly want.
“Be careful, Graham,” she says. “If this comes out…”
“It won’t,” I tell her.
“I mean, I had no clue, so you must be doing something right.”
Impulsively, I unlock fingers with her and hug her instead. “I’m sorry,” I tell her again. “I’m so happy for us. I hope you know that. I want this marriage. I want this baby. I want you in my life forever.”
She nods, her chin digging into my shoulder. “Me, too.”
“And if you find someone?—”
“Don’t,” she whispers, voice choked. “This is enough.”
“If you ever want to talk about it…”
“Shh…”
We hug for a long time but eventually break apart. A moment of stilted awkwardness passes while I try and let our new reality settle in. I think it might take a while. Instead of waiting, I ask the question that will soon become as habitual as brushing my teeth at night. “So…how are you feeling?”