21. Anthony

Chapter 21

Anthony

As Slade and I strolled down the sidewalk, making a half-assed effort to take me back to my hotel, I said, “You mind if I have a smoke?”

He shot me a disapproving glare. “You’re still munching on the cancer sticks?”

“And loving every minute.” I pulled the pack out of my pocket and withdrew a cigarette. “If you have a problem with it, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Fine,” he said, feigning frustration. “If you absolutely must.”

“Glad we understand each other.” I put the cigarette between my lips and pulled out my lighter. I stopped walking, cupped my hand around the end of the cigarette, and lit it. Once it was smoldering properly and I’d sucked in enough smoke to ensure that first craving-appeasing hit, I started walking again, and Slade fell into step beside me.

“So what are you doing after the election?” he asked. “Got any more candidates lined up?”

“Nah.” I turned my head to blow out the smoke so it wouldn’t get in his face. “Can’t think that far head anymore. One campaign at a time.”

“Can’t multitask anymore, old man?”

I flipped him off as I took another drag. “Something like that.”

“How’s that going to go with your new man, though?” Slade hooked his thumbs in his pockets and glanced at me. “I can see him putting up with one campaign, but if you jump on another one…”

I held in the breath of smoke for a moment before releasing it through my nose. How would that work? Once Jesse was governor—he’d lose this election over my dead body—and I started on someone else’s campaign for fuck knew what office, how the hell did we maintain any kind of relationship?

Shaking my head, I tapped the ashes into the gutter. “Who knows? I’ll deal with it when I get there, I guess.”

“I hope you do,” he said.

I looked at him, brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

Grinning, he shrugged. “Just seems like what you’ve got going on isn’t…terribly temporary.” There was a note of sadness in his voice. Resignation, maybe.

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “We’ll, you know, play it by ear.”

“I’m sure you will.” Some humor crept in to replace the momentary sadness. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you when it comes to relationships.”

I chuckled. “You know me too well.”

“Yes, yes, I do.” We stopped in front of my hotel, and Slade turned to me. “Well, much as I envy the lucky object of your affection, I have to say it’s good to see you in love like this, Anthony. Warms me right to the cockles.” His customary devilish grin pulled at his lips. “I said cockles , you dirty bastard.” With a wink, he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’ve had your chance at warming my—”

“All right, all right.” I laughed. “That’s enough. And I am not in love.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m not your wisecracking ex-boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow. “Meanwhile, back on planet Earth…”

I dropped my gaze, watching myself smother my cigarette under my shoe.

Slade laughed. “That’s what I thought. Anyway. It was good to see you again.”

“You too, as always.” I hugged him, and he kissed my cheek. As I pulled back, I said, “Say hello to Eric for me.”

“Will do. And you’ll say hello to…?”

Jesse , I almost said without thinking. I cleared my throat. “Zach,” I said, summoning a recent ex-not-quite-a-boyfriend’s name. “His name is Zach.”

Slade smiled. “Well, say hello to ‘Zach’ for me.”

“Will do.”

We said our good-byes, parting ways with our customary promise to see each other whenever we were in the same town again. He strolled across the street to his car, and we waved one more time before he drove off.

I waited until he was out of sight before I pulled out my pack and lighter. It wasn’t at all below him to slam on the brakes, turn around, and pull up to the curb to scold me for smoking so heavily. But he was gone now, so, alone with my thoughts and running on autopilot, I smoked another cigarette. Almost had a third but decided that would be too close to chain-smoking. Eventually I went upstairs to my empty hotel room. I tossed my wallet and room key on the table beside my laptop case and sat on the edge of the bed.

There were poll results and data to go over, but I didn’t even try. I couldn’t concentrate. All I could do was compare Jesse and Slade in my head. Not how they were as partners—much as I still loved him, Slade didn’t hold a candle to Jesse—but how our relationships played out.

Slade and I had kept things quiet from my family and colleagues, but there’d never been any outside pressure forcing us to keep it a secret or face irreversible consequences. Our relationship was dead and buried, but there were things about it I missed. I wanted to be with someone I could banter and flirt and drink with in public. I didn’t want to have to watch my every move, think about every fucking word, watch for cameras, watch for eavesdroppers. I wanted something sane and normal and…

Fuck, what did it matter? Slade was right. I put up with a lot to be with Jesse. Yeah, that crap was frustrating, and when I was alone like this, it was easy to tell myself what I should do about it, just like it was easy to tell myself all the very real reasons why Jesse and I shouldn’t do this. But what happened every time we were breathing the same air again? Any resolve I had collapsed. It wasn’t even a matter of telling myself I’d just enjoy this one last time and next time I’d end it like I should. One look at Jesse and I didn’t give a fuck.

Yes, our relationship was a hassle and a headache.

But like no other relationship I’d ever had, it was worth it.

Which begged the question, why the fuck was I sitting alone in my hotel room?

I looked around, searching for a convincing visual alibi to tell anyone who saw me that I had a legitimate, professional reason to go into Jesse’s hotel room this time of night. There was no shortage of reasons and alibis; campaign managers and candidates always burned the midnight oil together even when they weren’t fucking.

I tucked a stack of file folders under my arm, picked up a couple of thick binders, and left the room. I walked casually but quickly down the hall to Jesse’s room and knocked.

Ranya answered. She clicked her tongue and sighed dramatically. “Oh. It’s you .” Then she winked and pulled the door all the way open. “Jesse, boss man’s here.”

“At this hour?”

I was about to make a smart-ass comment like Is that a problem? but as I stepped into the room, I realized why his PA had answered the door for him. Though there weren’t many people who’d come knocking this late at night, it was just as well he didn’t throw open the door to his room when he was dressed only in a pair of jeans. Seeing him like that—reclined on the bed with one hand behind his head and a beer in the other, bare feet crossed at the ankles and not a damn thing covering those smooth, flat abs—almost made me drop my folders and binders.

He raised his eyebrows. “Please tell me you’re not coming in here with bad news at this hour.”

I laughed, which got my breath moving. “No, no.” I put the books on the table with a heavy thud. “Just some shit we need to go over, and tomorrow’s going to be a busy one.”

“Fuck,” he muttered into his beer bottle and took a long swallow.

“Well, if you boys are going to go over that crap,” Ranya said, “I’m going to call it a night.”

I snickered. “You don’t want to stay and discuss poll results?”

“I’d rather clip my grandfather’s toenails with my teeth.” She clicked off the movie they’d been watching. “You boys have fun, though. I’m going to go get some sleep, assuming all this coffee doesn’t keep me up until Armageddon.”

“Well, if you need help getting to sleep”—I held up one of the binders—“we could probably knock you out with one of these.”

She raised an eyebrow. “With the content? Or as a blunt object?”

I looked at the binder in my hand and laughed. “I meant the content. ”

“Sure you did.” She pointed at me, her bracelets jingling with the sharp gesture. “I’m watching you, Hunter.”

“Color me scared,” I said.

She shot me what was probably supposed to be a menacing look, but then giggled. “All right. Good night, boys.”

“Good night,” Jesse and I both said.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Jesse set his beer bottle on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He swallowed hard. “So, um, how was your evening with Slade?” His voice was devoid of suspicion or jealousy. If anything, it held a note of uncertainty. Maybe even barely cooled panic, like he’d sensed an intruder and wondered how much danger that intruder posed.

“Not bad,” I said. “Always good to catch up with an old friend.”

Jesse’s eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly.

I dropped my gaze. “Okay, an ex-boyfriend.”

“I thought so,” Jesse said with a soft laugh. “You two just had that vibe, I guess.”

I met his eyes. “Apparently we weren’t the only ones.”

“Meaning?”

“Slade picked up right away that there’s something going on between us. Which means it’s only a matter of time before someone else does.”

“He’s your ex. He’s more in tune to you than other people.”

“Yeah, but the media can pick up on things like that if they look hard enough.” I rolled my shoulders. “That said, I did manage to convince him he was imagining things and that I was seeing someone but not you.”

“Good save,” Jesse said. “I think.”

“Any better ideas?”

“No. I just hate that…” He gestured dismissively and sighed. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I do.”

Jesse’s eyes widened slightly. “Something wrong?”

I chewed my lip. Avoiding his eyes, I sat beside him on the bed. “I guess I’ve…been thinking a little.”

“About?” His hollow whisper gave away more underlying nerves.

I took a deep breath. Staring at the floor beside the bed, I said, “What happens after the election? With us? You’ll still be watched like a hawk. Sooner or later, I’ll have another candidate to run.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Is what we’re doing worth it? Or are we just setting ourselves up for something that will burn us out?”

Jesse sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. At this rate, I don’t even know when I’ll be divorced, let alone out.”

“I know. ”

He cleared his throat. “So is this the part where we decide things are too complicated to continue?”

“What?” I looked at him, eyes wide and lips apart. “No. God, no.”

His brow knitted with worry. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. This is complicated. It will always be complicated. I know that, and I knew it from the beginning, but…” I sighed and rubbed my shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t want to end this, not by any means, but I guess tonight, the secrecy was just getting to me.”

“I know the feeling.” He touched my face. “I’ve already put my wife through hell, and I could see a secret relationship being hell for you. I mean it when I say if you don’t want to deal with the drama, you don’t have to stay.”

“If I wasn’t willing, I wouldn’t be here. Normally I’d never dream of getting involved with a candidate, but…” I trailed my fingertips down the side of his face. “We’ll figure this out somehow, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Jesse exhaled, and I swore it sounded like a sigh of relief.

“You sound surprised,” I said.

He laughed, his cheeks coloring a little. “I guess I was kind of nervous after you went out tonight. With Slade.”

“Why?”

He shifted his gaze away. “Well, I mean, you and I never exactly laid down the rules. And I got the impression you and he weren’t just ‘old friends,’ but I wasn’t sure…”

I smiled and caressed his face with the backs of my fingers. “We did have something at one time, but that was years ago. We’re just friends.”

Jesse moistened his lips. “So there’s not…now…”

“Oh, Jesse,” I breathed, combing my fingers through his hair. “You have nothing to worry about. Not with Slade, not with any man.” I drew him close to me and finally kissed him. Really kissed him. He didn’t hesitate to pull me closer and surrendered to my mouth’s demands as we lost ourselves in a kiss that was as arousing as it was reassuring.

We’re not going anywhere.

This isn’t going away.

I’m here. I want you. I need you.

When we came up for air, Jesse whispered, “I just wish things were simpler.”

“Nothing worth doing is ever simple.” I kissed him again, lightly this time. “And I have no idea how things will play out after the election. What I do know is that we’re here, the door is locked, and please tell me you have condoms.”

“Plenty,” he growled and kissed me.

We slipped out of our clothes and under the covers. For the longest time, we just held on to each other, hot skin against hot skin, and made out like we had all the time in the world. Maybe the secrecy wasn’t so bad. We couldn’t sit in a restaurant and stare longingly at each other or touch like other couples could. We couldn’t steal a kiss out in public or mention our relationship to anyone else.

But this? Even if we’d shouted our relationship from the rooftops and plastered it all over the headlines, this was ours alone. A secret I’d gladly keep because no one in the world needed to know about it. This belonged to us and no one else.

“You said you had condoms,” I murmured. “Where?”

“Give me a sec.” He got out of bed and rifled through one of his suitcases. As he returned, an unopened box and a clear bottle in his hand, my mouth watered.

Somehow, in spite of both of us shaking and trying to kiss and barely even being able to breathe, we got the condom and lube on. I started to tell him to get on his back, but he did so on his own and took me with him. We swore between kisses as I blindly tried to guide myself to him, and finally I made myself pull back and sit up. I wanted to taste him, but damn it, I needed to be inside him first.

I held my breath as I pushed into him, and he offered no resistance. He reached back and grabbed the pillow, arching his back and swearing under his breath as I eased my cock into him. He was used to this now, taking me easily, and I didn’t worry at all that the whimper he released was one of pain.

“Oh fuck, you feel amazing,” I whispered as I watched my cock slide deeper inside him. “God…”

“So do you,” he said, his voice shaking. “Christ, Anthony, you’re…oh, Jesus…”

I leaned down so I could kiss him, and Jesse wrapped his arms around me. Skin moved across skin, and we tried to kiss but failed, so we settled on moving. And breathing. And remembering how to breathe while he moved like that, and while my cock slid in and out of him, and while my body threatened to fall to pieces if Jesse took me any deeper.

“Oh God, Jesse,” I moaned and screwed my eyes shut as I withdrew slowly. I pulled almost all the way out, then slid back in just as slowly, and I thought I whispered his name again but couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t be sure I’d breathed at all, never mind spoken.

He lifted his head off the pillow and wrapped his arms around me, and when I kissed him, we both sank to the bed. I moved faster now, and Jesse moved with me, rocking his hips just right to complement my thrusts, keeping perfect time with me even as I picked up speed.

I closed my eyes and buried my face against his neck, drawing in a long, deep breath through my nose, and the scent of his skin raised goose bumps along my arms. He dragged his hands down my back, the very edges of his nails burning lines down either side of my spine, and a shiver drove me deeper inside him .

“Fuck,” he moaned. “ Fuck , don’t stop…”

I sat up and fucked him faster. Arching his back and biting his lip, Jesse stroked his cock in sync with my thrusts, and I was so close, so close, and I gritted my teeth as I fought to keep my orgasm from taking over quite yet.

“Like that?” I asked.

He just moaned and rolled his hips with mine, and then, just as I was sure I couldn’t hold back anymore, Jesse tensed, pulling in a sharp breath, and a second later, he shuddered. Semen dotted his abs, and I groaned as I threw my head back and let myself go. We both shook, both gasped, and I kept thrusting through my orgasm until I couldn’t hold myself up anymore and fell forward, catching myself on my arms. Then Jesse wrapped his arms around me and drew me all the way down on top of him. Our lips grazed each other, and in spite of both of us struggling to catch our breath, we kissed lazily and gently.

I pulled out but didn’t get up. I could barely hold myself up on my arms, and I doubted my legs would be much better, so I indulged in another long-drawn-out kiss instead.

“We really should do this more often,” I slurred.

“Any chance we get,” he said, panting.

“Just say the word.”

“You won’t make me beg?”

I laughed and bent to kiss him lightly. “Well, I never said I wouldn’t make you beg.”

Jesse moistened his lips. “If I beg and plead now , will you do it again?” His tone was playful, but I didn’t miss the undercurrent of say the word and I’ll beg that sent electricity all the way up from the base of my spine. I had a feeling he’d beg and plead all night long if I made him, and that turned me on more than he could possibly imagine.

“Oh, I won’t make you beg,” I murmured. Just before I kissed him, I added, “ This time.”

We hit the ground running the next day. A rally, a speech, an interview. Business as usual on the campaign trail, but I swore the weight on my shoulders was lighter today. The secrecy that had been gnawing me from the inside out wasn’t so bad now. Like it was no longer a burden, but a hot, sexy thing that no one needed to know about.

Watching Jesse engage voters, speak on stages and television, and effortlessly give interviews, it wouldn’t have surprised me if everyone could see my feelings for him on my sleeve, but if they did, no one said a word. I couldn’t help it. The man mesmerized me like no one else. Charisma and stage presence like that were sexy anyway, but knowing what I did about him, he was even hotter. My mouth watered every time I watched him step into the shoes of Jesse Cameron, the future governor of California, because I knew Jesse, the insatiable, intense lover.

And how easily he changed between personas too. For that matter, he adapted effortlessly to anything a situation demanded. Jesse was a master at shifting from a larger-than-life leader with an undeniable stage presence to a personable, down-to-earth guy in rolled-up sleeves and tennis shoes. Sitting on the edge of the stage, one hand resting casually beside him while the other held the microphone, he looked every bit like a young instructor or an older student. Maybe a graduate who’d come back to mentor current students, but certainly not a member of one of Hollywood’s A-list dynasty or an upcoming governor.

A microphone had been set up for students to approach and ask questions. With Jesse sitting on the edge of the stage instead of standing at the podium, he was closer to eye level instead of towering over them, and that effect wasn’t lost on the kids. Some were obviously nervous as they approached him, but not intimidated. A little stage fright, perhaps. Starstruck, maybe, especially judging by the number who asked for photos with him, which he always happily obliged.

One by one, the students stepped up to the microphone, grilling him intently on every issue they could think of. A ponytailed girl in jeans and glasses approached. She took a deep breath, glanced at the note card in her hand, then looked up at Jesse. He offered a reassuring smile, and her posture relaxed.

She cleared her throat. “I graduate next spring, and my biggest fear is being a barista with a bachelor’s degree.” She glanced at the card one more time before holding it behind her back and looking Jesse in the eye. “Can my classmates and I trust you with our state’s economy?”

“Good question.” Jesse gave a slow nod, and the auditorium’s lights didn’t quite hide the blush that spread across the student’s cheeks. Alternately looking at her and the gathered students, he said, “I’d love to promise all of you that you’ll be rolling in jobs when you graduate. There’s nothing more daunting than the prospect of graduating college and not being able to find work. That said, it’s going to take time to get the economy back on its feet. Any overnight fixes you’ve heard about will ultimately end in disaster, and your generation—every generation—deserves better than that. So what I can promise you is that the economy is my absolute top priority, and I’m already working with economic experts and advisors to come up with a plan of action that we can start implementing when I’m in office. With any luck, we’ll see improvement by June, in which case, consider it my graduation gift to all of you.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and the students applauded .

The student returned to her seat, and another took her place. Jesse answered them one after another, staying personable and friendly while keeping his answers concise and beautifully devoid of political doublespeak.

Eat your fucking heart out, John Casey.

One student approached the microphone but had a different air about her than the others. She was nervous like they were, but somehow…different. Like there was more on her mind than just economic reform and educational funding. She clutched a small card in her hands, holding it like she was scared of both losing or destroying it.

“I don’t have a question,” she said softly, and the unevenness in her voice wasn’t the same nervous waver a number of the other kids had had. “I just wanted to say…” She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. The silence lingered for a moment.

“Go on,” Jesse said, his voice gentle.

She opened her eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’re doing for victims of abuse. My—” Her gaze dropped to the card in her hand, and she ran her thumb along its edge, holding it almost reverently. “My mother was…a victim. And if what you’re doing can keep other people from going through what she did—what we all did—then you definitely have my vote.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said quietly. He gestured at the card in her hand. “Is that…”

She looked at it again, jumping like she’d forgotten she had it at all. “My mother. I—” She put a shaking hand to her lips.

The speakers around the auditorium echoed with a hollow tap as Jesse set his microphone on the stage beside him. Then he hoisted himself off the stage. No one in the room breathed or made a sound as Jesse crossed the short expanse of space to the distraught girl, and when he hugged her, I was sure I heard a few people sniffling.

Jesse released her, and as she went to wipe her eyes, he quickly did the same. Then he put a hand on her shoulder and, with his other, turned her microphone away. He asked her something, and she nodded. I guessed he’d asked if she was all right, and didn’t want it broadcast to everyone present, at least not until he was sure she had collected her composure.

From where I stood, I couldn’t hear the words they exchanged, but the student pressed the picture of her mother into Jesse’s hands. He took the photo from her, hugged her again, and she went back to her seat to the thunderous applause of her classmates.

Still holding the photo in one hand, he picked up the microphone, and I swore his voice was a little ragged as he said, “A lot of people have asked me why domestic abuse is such an important issue to me.” He paused, possibly to collect himself, possibly to emphasize the next three words he spoke: “Now you know. ”

I swallowed hard. Under normal circumstances, their exchange would have moved anyone, even me. And under normal circumstances, moved or not, Anthony the Campaign Manager would have been mentally calculating the uptick in poll percentages that would inevitably follow once the footage hit the airwaves.

I had no doubt the public would love this. There would be naysayers, of course. Those who claimed it was staged, those who doubted Jesse’s sincerity. With any other candidate, I wouldn’t have cared if it was sincere or staged so long as it meant more votes.

But this time, fuck the votes. Fuck the naysayers. Fuck the election.

Because Jesse had just made me fall that much harder for him.