Page 55 of Indiscretion

So far, I think I’m on the right track.

I also use my hands to massage and torment him. I knead his ass, where I’ve been smacking him. I trace the muscles along both sides of his spine, and around his shoulder blades. I pinch his nipples, which makes him gasp and whine in delicious ways that harden my cock.

By the time we finally collapse, I realize it’s nearly two a.m., we’ve both come again, and we’re both exhausted.

He lies snuggled against me, his head tucked in the crook of my shoulder and my arm hooked around him. His arm is draped over my chest, and I’ve never felt such utter perfection before.

We fit together like we were made for each other.

That’s a stupid cliché, yes. I know.

Believe me, Iknow.

I’m a creepy, obsessive, intense, controlling guy embarking on an indiscretion of gargantuan proportions.

Yep. Guilty.

I’m about to confess all these thoughts to him—probably rounding out the top five warning signs of a bad-news boyfriend—when he speaks.

It’s kind of a half-asleep mumble but he speaks.

“This has been the greatest night of my life, Sir. Thank you so much.”

Well, shit.

What do I evensayto that?

Am I not as creepy as I thought I was?

I nuzzle his forehead while I drink in his scent. “The pleasure is all mine, pet. Hope you’re still saying that by next weekend.”

He makes an adorable little snort. “Will you think it’s creepy if I give you my calendar tomorrow so we can set up weekends in advance right now?”

In my chest, my heart’s thudding in a way it never has before. “I’d like that,” I hear myself say, not sure if I’m awake or not. Hell, I’m not sure if he’ll even remember saying that tomorrow, because he could be drunk from all the brain chemicals bouncing around in his skull after all our play and sex.

Elliot tips his head back so he can look up at me. “Sorry if that’s…creepy.”

“It’snotcreepy. I’m glad I haven’t scared you off yet.”

“I…” He sucks in a deep breath. “I need… I can’t be open right now. I’m sorry.”

“I know. That’s okay.”

“Really?”

I kiss him to turn off his brain again. “Really, pet.”

We fall asleep and when I startle awake in the early hours of the morning, he’s still pressed tightly against me and lightly snoring.

So it wasn’t a dream.

Somehow, I manage to fall asleep again.

Because I’m only forty and I’m not an old geezer, it’s not uncommon for me to wake up in the morning with a woody. On the weekends, it’s not uncommon for me to jerk off before I get up.

Itisuncommon for me to awaken with my woody buried in the hot mouth of an even hotter congressman.

I pull another pillow under my head so I can watch Elliot. He stares up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes and I know I’m absolutely in love.