It was as if I never left.
Once Adrian accepted me back into his bed, his lust for me was stronger than ever. We barely left his bedroom that first 24 hours, spending the day fucking, eating takeout in bed, and fucking again. He was supposed to fly home in the morning, but he canceled his flight without a second thought.
All Rebecca got was a texted apology, a half-assed excuse, and an empty promise to make it up to her.
I got a full day of Adrian’s tongue on my skin, his cock in my mouth, his fingers inside my hole. The only time either of us got out of bed was to piss or to grab the occasional Uber Eats delivery. When the doorbell rang, I threw on Adrian’s robe and bounded downstairs, barefoot, answering the door with my cheeks still flushed from the thorough rim job I’d been in the middle of receiving.
“Thanks,” I said quickly, grabbing the bag and shutting the door in the guy’s face without another word. Then I raced up the stairs, tossing the bag of food on the ground as I jumped back into Adrian’s arms.
“I missed you,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
“I was only gone a minute.”
“Too long.”
I held his head against my neck, enjoying the feeling of his rough chin and wet tongue. “Mmmm… missed you too, Daddy.”
He kissed my cheek, sliding his hand beneath my robe to rub my caged dick. “You’re leaking.”
“From which end?”
He laughed. “Do you wanna take a break and eat?”
I sat up on my knees, undoing the robe. “I think you were already in the middle of eating when we were so rudely interrupted.”
I climbed over him, resting my ass on his face as I felt that thick tongue pierce me once again.
Being apart had made us hungrier than ever for each other. Even though Adrian had had Tim to warm his bed, he seemed to miss this even more than I had. He fucked me in every position and on every surface of his bedroom. And when he was spent, he used his fingers and his tongue to bring me off and make my load dribble out of my cage.
It wasn’t until Sunday morning that we eventually left his room long enough for me to notice that all of my stuff was back in his daughter’s bedroom. He must have texted the maid to move everything back while we were fucking.
Christ, with all the noise we were making, that woman’s NDA must be ironclad.
When he went back to work Monday morning, I was right by his side.
Stephanie and Downing made no mention of my absence, nor my sudden return. It was like we all silently agreed to forget about my pathetic calls, the hysterical voicemails I’d left begging for a chance to speak to Adrian, to make everything right.
They may have forgotten. I certainly didn’t.
If my banishment taught me anything, it was that my position wasn’t nearly as secure as I thought it was. My political future was tied to the whims of one man: a temperamental, lying cheater who had an absolute snake whispering in his ear at all times. As long as I was beholden to Adrian, I would never be able to do what I needed to secure my future.
I would figure out a way to deal with him soon enough. But first, I had a more pressing matter.
I had to cut off the head of the snake.
“Michael, Scott’s gonna shadow you today.”
Adrian was sitting at his desk, writing an email on his phone, not even looking up at Downing, who stood in front of him with his hands folded and his teeth tightly gritted.
“What for?” asked Downing, icily.
“I want him to learn how the sausage is made. Make sure he knows how to give me everything I need.”
Adrian finally looked up from his phone to wink at me.
I turned to Downing, trying not to look smug. “Very excited to learn from you, sir.”
“Fine,” he said. “Follow me.”
He clearly didn’t buy my “good little boy” routine.
He was right to be suspicious.
I shadowed Downing for the next few weeks, learning the ins and outs of his role as Adrian’s Chief of Staff. Most of it involved controlling access to the congressman: deciding who gets meetings, which donors and lobbyists get face time, which calls get returned, and which allies are kept waiting as leverage. He did a lot of coordinating with committee staff, legislative directors, and industry representatives, as well as managing the various staff members of Adrian’s team. If there was ever a crisis—a bad headline, angry donor, appropriations fight—he was the first to know about it and coordinate a response.
I took diligent notes, capturing every nuance of the job and reading between the lines wherever necessary to pick up on the stuff Downing didn’t necessarily want to pass on to me. All the while, I worked on my plan to get Downing out of the way.
He certainly couldn’t stay after the shit he’d pulled with that little skank, Trey—leaking the video of me to the congressman. No, after his last attempt failed, he’d be looking for any opportunity to get rid of me. Any little slip-up he could pounce on to prove to Adrian that I wasn’t to be trusted.
Unfortunately for him, there was nothing to find.
I’d deleted all of my messages with Lex, removing all traces of him from my phone and blocking his number. I felt bad ghosting him, but in all honesty, he was better off without me. All I’d done in the course of our friendship was disappoint him. And if Adrian found out about us, I didn’t doubt his ability to make things very difficult for Lex.
This was the kinder thing to do, in the end.
I’d also cut the driver off cold turkey. He’d been supremely pissed, threatening to tell Adrian about the times I’d sucked his cock and ridden him in the backseat while Adrian was out of town. But that was a double-edged sword, as I so happily reminded him. If he exposed me, what did he think would happen to him or his job? Adrian didn’t like the idea of the help dipping their fingers in the kitty.
So we agreed to keep each other’s secrets—mutually assured destruction.
Besides, I didn’t need his discretion anymore. For the next few months, I was squeaky clean. Every night, I was in Adrian’s bed, taking his cock and worming my way deeper into his heart. When he flew back home to his family, I was a dutiful homebody, only leaving the apartment for my chaste Saturday evening dinners with Ashley and Sunday morning church.
For all intents and purposes, I was Adrian’s boy. Completely.
Still, Downing had to go.
It wouldn’t do just to get Adrian to fire him. He could always change his mind later and hire him back. Or the next guy might be even worse.
No, I needed to get rid of him and move myself up in the process.
I needed to replace him.
The first step was learning things from the inside out so I’d be prepared once Adrian cut him off. Getting the congressman to agree was surprisingly easy. All it took was a little pillow talk—I’d love to learn more, I just wanna take care of you, Daddy—and Adrian agreed to ask Downing to let me shadow him.
The second step was a bit harder. I needed to find a way to turn Adrian against Downing, someone he’d known for over a decade and trusted like a brother. Blackmail wouldn’t work (Downing would just tattle on me and get Adrian to bail him out), and neither would seducing him (Downing was as straight as they came, as I could tell from his visible disgust anytime he caught a glimpse of Adrian’s hand down my pants or his tongue in my mouth).
It took a few weeks before the answer hit me. Adrian and Downing were alike in many ways, from their ambition to their ruthlessness. While Downing lacked Adrian’s sexual appetites, he did share a similar weakness: ego.
I just had to find a way to turn their egos against each other. Wind Downing up, then let him spin off into his own destruction.
“So when people ask for earmarks,” I said, following Downing through the maze of committee offices, “who actually decides if they get them?”
Downing kept walking, tablet tucked under his arm, barely slowing. “There’s a review process. We field recommendations, listen to negotiations, look at budget constraints.”
I smiled faintly. “That wasn’t my question.”
He pressed the elevator button with the side of his thumb. “The Chairman makes the final determination.”
“Right.” I stepped in beside him as the doors opened. “But before it gets to Adrian, it goes through you.”
“It goes through several layers of staff.”
“Staff you control.”
Downing glanced at me as the elevator doors shut. “You seem very interested in organizational hierarchy.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m just confused. I assumed the power was mostly Adrian’s.”
“It is.”
“But you decide what reaches him,” I countered. “Which meetings get made, which funding requests make it onto his desk. Like that defense contract yesterday. You killed that before he even saw it, right?”
Very slowly, he turned to me. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody.” I gave him an innocent look. “I’m just noticing a pattern.”
The elevator doors opened. I followed Downing out into the hall. He said nothing, then stopped just outside his office door, finally turning to look at me.
“That proposal was dead for six different reasons.”
“But Adrian liked it.”
“He liked the headline attached to it.”
I leaned against the doorframe as he walked in. “So you protected him from himself.”
Downing set his tablet down on the desk a little harder than necessary. “That’s not what I said.”
“If you’re not deciding things for him, then essentially, he makes all the decisions, and you just carry out the orders. Right?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
I gave him a small shrug, like I was trying to be agreeable. “I guess I just thought it’d be more complicated.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “It is.”
“Really?” I tilted my head. “Because I’ve been shadowing you for a few weeks and, from what I’ve seen, you mostly just send emails. Maybe make a few calls, move stuff around on the calendar. Isn’t that all stuff you could get an AI assistant to do?”
That finally cracked him a little.
He let out a short, humorless laugh and sank into his chair. “Is that what you think this is?”
I raised my hands. “I’m just trying to understand the role.”
“It’s not just a role,” he snapped. “I’m the only thing keeping everything together.”
I gave him a skeptical look. “I mean… sure.”
He just glared at me.
I sighed. “I’m just saying. If you disappeared tomorrow, for example, Adrian would be fine, right? I mean, he’s basically the one running everything.”
Downing stared at me, and for a second, I thought I might’ve pushed him too far, too fast.
Then he leaned back in his chair. “No,” he said flatly. “He wouldn’t.”
I frowned, like I was confused. “Why not?”
He was silent for a bit longer, seemingly debating whether to continue.
I waited, watching him balance on the edge.
“Because,” he said slowly, “Adrian is brilliant at closing deals and completely incapable of managing the consequences of his own decisions.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he chases whatever’s in front of him. A new committee assignment, a new grant, a new boytoy.” He shot me a look that left no room for doubt that I was included in this category.
I stayed quiet, letting him hang himself with the rope I’d given him.
“He doesn’t have the wherewithal to know when to dial it back. I mean, do you know how many times I’ve had to cover for him with Rebecca? Because he was at one of his sex parties, still in bed with some little faggot, so drunk that he missed his flight home, again?” He scoffed. “Adrian would fall apart in a week without me. I am the reason this place functions. I am the one who keeps his mistakes from becoming catastrophes.”
“I’ve never seen Adrian make any mistakes,” I said helpfully.
He actually laughed at that one. “Of course. Because you’re so fucking in the loop. As if you’re not Exhibit A of Adrian thinking with his dick. I’ll tell you this much—you’re the only one who’s ever lasted this long. Guess you must have figured out a way to keep his attention. Or at the very least, appeal to his ego. Christ knows the thing’s the size of the fucking Washington Monument.”
He sat back again, the moment already passing for him. He reached for his tablet, like the conversation was over.
I suppose for him, it was. For me, it was just beginning.
He didn’t even notice me leaving his office, my phone still warm in my hand.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” I said, still holding the phone between us. “I didn’t want to show you, I just thought… well, you deserved to know.”
We were lying naked in bed, Adrian’s seed still warm inside me. He had been lying on his side, but as soon as Downing’s words came out of the speaker, he sat up, his face twisting in a scowl.
“When the fuck did this happen?” he said, his voice low and threatening.
“This afternoon, during your meeting with Smith,” I said. “Downing was walking me through the review process for earmarks, so I was recording because I thought I’d transcribe it later. I didn’t… I didn’t realize he was gonna say those things.”
I wasn’t sure whether he’d buy my excuse (I certainly wouldn’t), but I’d banked on the fact that his anger would blind him to the holes in my story.
I was right.
“That motherfucker,” he seethed. “He thinks I need him to clean up my messes? That I think with my dick? At least I have one. That spineless little incel hasn’t gotten laid in fucking years. As if anyone would want that bald, flabby fucking piece of shit.”
He grabbed his phone, unlocking it as his thumbs flew across the screen.
“Wait,” I said, grabbing his wrist. “You’re not gonna fire him, are you?”
He looked at me, eyes blazing. “You think I’m gonna let some backstabber work for me? I’ll fucking ruin his ass.”
“I just think you should be smart about this,” I said gently. “He knows all of your secrets.”
“Downing’s NDA is so ironclad that if he even so much as shared how I like my coffee, I’d have him eating out of a tin can for the rest of his life.”
I slid behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. “But who’s gonna replace him? You’re right in the middle of your primary. Even if you’re sure to win, this is the last thing you need. Maybe you should wait till March.”
“I’m not letting that snake stay for a single second longer,” Adrian snapped.
I leaned in close, pressing my lips softly to his cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I murmured in his ear. “I know he was like family to you.”
My soft kisses and firm hands made Adrian loosen up. He leaned his head back against my lap, closed his eyes, and sighed.
“I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore.”
I ran my thumb along the edge of his scar, the diagonal slash above his eye. “You can trust me, Tom.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “I know, baby.”
“Can I ask you something?” I nodded at the scar. “How did you get that? I know it was in war, but–”
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “War. You make it sound so grand.”
“Was it not in battle?”
He was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing absently along my wrist.
“Not exactly,” he said finally. “It wasn’t any brave moment or anything.”
He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. “It was a checkpoint in the middle of nowhere. We were all hot as hell and bored out of our minds. There was this kid… I don’t know. A teenager, I guess. Maybe younger. Kept circling back, over and over again. We told him to fuck off, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t fucking know. Maybe he was bored. I wanted to scare him off, fire a few rounds by his feet, but…” He swallowed. “The fucker moved at the last second. Ran right into the line of fire.”
I felt like I was going to be sick. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I swallowed it down.
“And the scar?” I asked quietly.
Adrian smirked, but there was no humor in it. “The gun misfired on the second round. A bit of casing shot backward and sliced my eye.” He looked up at me, finally meeting my gaze. “You know what’s funny? If it had misfired the first shot, instead of the second, he’d still be alive.”
I touched his scar again, only this time, I had to keep my hand from shaking. “You did what you had to do,” I said softly.
His eyes flicked toward me, searching.
“That’s what leadership is, right?” I added. “Making the hard calls, even when they haunt you.”
His expression eased. It wasn’t an absolution of guilt, or anything like that. More like he was relieved at being understood. Or being excused.
“Exactly,” he said.
I nodded, closing off the part of me that felt human until all that remained was the shell he wanted me to be.
After a moment, he shifted, sitting up straighter. The anger from before crept back in, only it was sharper now.
“I can’t have someone like Downing around me,” he muttered. “Not when I’m this close.”
I let out a small, hesitant breath. “Then what are you gonna do?”
He looked at me.
“You’ve been shadowing him,” Adrian said slowly.
My pulse ticked up, but I kept my face neutral. “A little. I’m still learning the ropes.”
“You know his system. You’ve got all the contacts, you’ve seen how I operate.”
“I try to keep up,” I said, with a small, self-effacing smile.
He studied me for another second. “I need someone I can trust.”
I didn’t move, didn’t say a word.
“You already know the role,” he continued. “And you’re loyal.”
I let my gaze drop, just enough to sell it. “You know I would never let you down.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He reached out, gripping my chin lightly, lifting my face back up to his. “That’s the point.”
And just like that.
“I’ll handle Downing,” Adrian said. “Let him go quietly. You’ll step in in an interim capacity, for now. We’ll make it official after the primary.”
“You’re sure?” I forced myself to hesitate, just enough not to seem calculated. “I don’t know if I’m–”
“You can handle it,” he cut in. “I don’t have time to wait for someone perfect, Scotty. I need someone reliable.”
I let out a slow breath, then nodded. “Okay. If that’s what you need.”
Adrian smiled, sharp and satisfied. “It is,” he said. “Trust me.”
I smiled back, gently cupping his cheek. “I do.”
Downing was fired on a Friday. By Monday morning, his things were gone, and I had a brand new office.
It was almost shocking how easy it had been to get rid of him. I had expected some more convincing, a bit more heavy-handedness to get Adrian to drop him. But his ego really was thin enough that one snide comment from Downing cost the man everything. I had also expected a bit more pushback from Downing, but it seemed he knew better than to put up a fight with Adrian. The man was nothing if not intractable.
Thankfully, I had shadowed Downing long enough that I had most of the basics down by the time he left. It was intimidating to take on a Chief of Staff position for a prominent congressman when I’d only just turned 24, but I was starting to learn just how much of the role came down to confidence. If you acted like you were in control, then you were. You could delegate as much or as little to the people around you as you needed, claiming credit for whatever you wanted and shifting the blame to whoever was unlucky enough to make a convenient scapegoat.
It also helped that Adrian was becoming increasingly paranoid. Yes, that may have had something to do with the lies I was feeding him on a regular basis. Sharing whispers on Capitol Hill that Smith was conspiring against him with several of the congressmen on the Ethics committee, trying to find something to oust him with. Despite being a total lie, it served its purpose in binding Adrian to me further, drawing his inner circle tighter and tighter until it was just me and him.
That chilly day in March, when he won his primary, I was standing just a few feet behind him as he made his victory speech. It hadn’t been a serious competition at all, but after the close call with Smith last year and the lies I’d been spinning, it felt like a triumph nonetheless.
“Tonight, the people of this district sent a message,” he said, his voice booming through the microphone over the crowd. “Not just to my opponent, but to every outsider, every so-called expert, every career bureaucrat who thinks they know better than you. They don’t know shit.”
The audience laughed. Rebecca, who stood off to the side with the girls, jokingly put her hands over the little one’s ears.
“I’m not here to play their game,” he continued. “I’m here to win it. Now, they’re going to come at us harder than ever. They’re going to dig into my past, distort the truth, spread their lies. They’ll say anything—anything—to try and stop what we’re building. Let them. Because if they want a war, they can have one. And we’ll finish it the same way we always do.”
He looked out over the crowd, a dark grin on his face. “By burning it all to the fucking ground.”
When the audience applauded, my clapping was louder than all the rest.
And when he took me that evening, tearing his orgasm from my body, the only thing that escaped my lips was his name, over and over and over.
“I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of waiting.”
Mason’s voice was raw and sloppy, like he’d been drinking. Or more.
“We need to play this right,” I said.
I was locked in Adrian’s closet again. It was just after midnight, and the congressman was currently back in Texas with his family.
“You’ve been saying that for months,” Mason whined. “Meanwhile, this fucker just won his primary, and he’s cruising back to reelection. Don’t seem like we’re doing much life ruining, to me!”
I bit the inside of my lip. I had my reasons for waiting, but I wasn’t about to explain those to some trailer trash drug addict. “We need to time it perfectly. Wait until he’s in the spotlight, then bring the axe down on him. Figuratively speaking,” I added.
I didn’t want to give him any ideas.
“And how exactly are we gonna do that?” asked Mason. “You already said it ain’t enough just to tell the world I exist. Nobody’s gonna give a shit about some illegitimate baby from almost 30 years ago.”
He was right about that. Mason’s existence would be humiliating, but in today’s political climate, it wouldn’t be a career ender.
“What about a sex scandal?” Mason added. “Don’t he have some sort of fucked up fetish or something? You know all his dirty secrets, surely you got an idea.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. A gay love affair with a staffer would also be humiliating, and might even end his career, but I wasn’t about to air my own sexual history for the world to see. I needed to find a way to destroy Adrian while keeping my hands clean.
“None of these things are strong enough,” I said. “Sex scandals, illegitimate babies… these things are run of the mill at this point. We need something to entrap him with.”
“What about two scandals ‘stead of one?” said Mason. “We could release ‘em at the same time. I come out of the woodwork, and we capture a video of him with some hooker, or somethin’. A guy like that’s gotta be fucking around.”
The idea descended on me with cold clarity. The duality of the scandal—not just a sex scandal, or an illegitimate son… but a sex scandal with an illegitimate son…
“Mason,” I said slowly. “How far are you willing to go to bring your father down?”