Page 83 of Innocent

Finally, staff and press return. We’re notified that we’re about to take off, so we strap in. Once we’re at cruising altitude and are free to move about the airplane, I remain fully dressed, lock us in the suite, and sit on the sofa while making Elliot stand in front of me.

Then I point at him with my index finger, making a little circle in the air.

No explanation needed. He knows exactly what I want of him.

“Duck on,” I clarify. I don’t want him falling if we hit turbulence.

He blushes but reaches up and the tie comes off first. I watch him unbutton his shirt and shed it and his undershirt. I take in the old scars on his chest and abs as he reaches down to unfasten his belt.

I also see he’s filling in the front of his slacks already.

He might feel a little self-conscious about his body—and he has no reason to, but I get it—yet he’s getting hard.

Ah, operant conditioning, thou art a predictable bitch.

And so am I.

He’s wearing boxer briefs today, black ones, and my mouth waters as that gorgeous cock of his comes into view. A good seven inches, and he’s uncircumcised.

He might want me to be his Sir, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy riding that boy’s pole when I feel like it.

Yeah, there will be a few perks to this arrangement, I suppose.

He’s wearing his everyday leg today, but he also has a blade for when he wants to run or jog—usually on a treadmill, because outdoor logistics are sometimes crazy—and another for biking. Again, usually on a stationary cycle. Collectively, they’re all called “Duck,” regardless of which one he’s wearing at any given time.

I need to build outdoor time into his schedule. It’s been years since I’ve been able to bike and hike on a regular basis, although Leo and I did manage to get away from time to time to local parks. Elliot, however, used to love hiking and biking. His work ate into his recreational time, and his fear of being seen too often with Leo drove most of their exercise time inside.

He’s got an exercise room at home, one of the spare bedrooms. He didn’t even ask me to make changes to the room’s paint when he moved in, although I did have it repainted for him because it was an ugly shade of beige. All we did was roll up the large rug that’d been in there and put down interlocking, rubberized floor mat tiles, so the equipment wouldn’t damage the floors. Obviously, he’s been using it, because the man’s still in damn fine shape.

Once he’s down to nothing but Duck, I pat the sofa next to me and he practically throws himself onto the couch in his eagerness to comply and return to his previous position. The thought of letting him stand there for a few minutes and mentally spin while I stare at his body did cross my mind, but we can have fun with the mindfucks another night.

He’s hurting, I’m hurting, and I’d rather give him what he needs.

Because I need things, too. I have a feeling Elliot won’t mind me vicariously getting them via what we do together in the shadows. I didn’t realize how desperate I was for human touch until I held Elliot in my arms.

I drape my arm around him as he snuggles against me once more with his head in my lap. With my other hand I play with his hair. He loves that and it’s no hardship for me, either. His eyes fall closed again, and from the way his arms are wrapped around me, it feels like he’s clinging to me.

I guess maybe he is.

“We’re going to have rules,” I tell him.

“Yes, Sir.”

“No masturbating, obviously.”

“Obviously, Sir.” Did I mention I love his playful smirk?

I ruffle his hair. “Did Leo give you standing permission?”

His smile fades and he nuzzles his face against me. “Yes, Sir.” His soft tone and the visceral loneliness within it rips at me. “Over two months ago, when he started looking at schedules and knew it’d be rough to find time together.”

I know why that makes him sad, because the few times I’ve felt like jerking off since my return to Florida have gutted me.

Hence why I really haven’t been doing a lot of it.

I’ve been tempted to text Leo and ask for permission, but I knew that would open a can of worms I didn’t want to touch.

Especially if he didn’t reply.