Page 244 of Incisive

Leo’s smirk transforms into a pained chuckle. “Fair enough.”

I have Leo back in bed and set up with his phones, his tablet, and the TV remote by the time Jordan returns carrying a tray holding not only Leo’s coffee but also a glass of water and a toasted bagel with cream cheese, plus his bottle of pain pills.

“Morning meds and breakfast, Daddy.” He eases the tray onto Leo’s lap. “You need to eat something. You never had dinner last night.”

“Thank you.” Leo kisses him, looking from him to me and waving his finger back and forth between us. “Whateverthisis, I won’t interfere. Because Elliot’s right—I shouldn’t have overridden his order to you yesterday.” He focuses on me. “I was more worried about having Jordan there to keepyoucalm because I knew I was okay.”

“Yeah, well, the boy’s ass is off-limits to you for the next two weeks, minimum.” I slap Jordan’s ass, hard and drop my tone into POTUS mode. “Go tell the doctor and Leo’s chief of staff that he’s awake. Then meet me in the Oval.”

Jordan shoots me a sultry smile over his shoulder as he heads for the bedroom door. “Yes, Mister President.”

Once Jordan’s gone Leo studies me. “Ah, so it’sthatway for now, huh? You sure that’s wise? What if you need his Sir mode?”

I lean in and kiss him again, side-stepping his question. “I want to do this. Hey, at least he won’t hit subdrop after yesterday’s rude interruption of your play, Special Agent Stalky McClutzyfuck.”

Leo sighs. “True. I was worried about that. Feel free to pick my brain about managing him, if you want.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Remember, this isn’t the first or even thirty-first time we’ve switched. We have this under control,Daddy.”

Leo snorts. “Yeah, sorry. It’s not sexy when you say it.”

“I know.” I grab my briefing binders and summon POTUS tone with him, which I know his Secret Service self will listen to and respect out of habit, even if my hubby and Master might want to argue with me. “Imeanit. The boy’s ass and orgasms belong tomefor at least the next two weeks. No sneaky rewarding him behind my back, either, no matter how much he whines and begs. Because Iwillpunish him for it, not you. You have your ways with him but I have mine. I’ve got this. And you did tell me I have standing orders to use him however and whenever I want.”

“I promise not to interfere,” he says. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, you clumsy dumbass.”

His ringing laughter follows me as I step out into the central hall and shut the bedroom door.

* * *

Casey-Marie,three senior aides, and my morning briefing team have gathered in the Oval and are going over a few things with me when Jordan catches up with me there a short time later. I’m certain no one notices something’s off with Jordan—

Whoops.

Casey-Marie studies him for a moment and glances at me with a raised eyebrow while I struggle against the heat rising in my cheeks.

Of course she knows there’s something different between us today. She’s as good as Leo when it comes to noticing tiny details. That’s one of the traits that make her so damned dangerous as a political operative and so exceptionally successful as my chief of staff.

Not to mention why Declan is devoted to her not just as a partner, but as her owned boy.

I clear my throat to call for attention. “Let’s get the PDB out of the way so Ms. Blaine can call our morning staff meeting to order, okay?”

“Yes, Mister President,” everyone says as I take my seat on one of the sofas. The aides depart and the briefers settle in their usual spots on the other sofa across the coffee table from me. Jordan starts to head for the main office door leading out to where my AA’s desk is, likely to confer with her, when Casey-Marie beckons him to follow her through the doorway leading down the hall to my private study, dining area, and her office.

I’m certainthatwill be an interesting conversation.

But I shove those thoughts out of my mind because I do have more pressing matters to deal with besides looking forward to fucking my body man over my desk in my study in short order.

Pressing matters like running the country.

Unexpectedly I have even more pressing items to handle, like the one the briefing team leads with. “There’s been a development regarding a situation you’ve asked us to keep you closely updated on,” the lead briefer starts with.

“Yes?”

The lead briefer hands me a narrow binder that wasn’t part of my Morning Book. “There is an unsubstantiated but very reliable report that Pasha Belyaevskin is in Venezuela.”

I flip open the binder. “And?”