MOHC 6 Pride and Politics

Men of Holsum College 6

Pride and Politics

Aloof and arrogant, Holsum College junior Hunter Ford has
enjoyed all the perks of being from one of America's most
prominent families. Hunter can have anything he wants—except
time away from his family's political spotlight and the image
consultant hired to keep him there.

Steve Camden’s job is simple—make Hunter toe the line for the
duration of his uncle’s vice-presidential campaign. This is the
break Steve's been waiting for and a chance to provide a better
life for his deaf sister. But he didn't count on an attraction to the
broken scion—one that rearranges everything Steve thought he
knew about himself.

As Steve melts Hunter's icy exterior, the heat between them
threatens more than just their hearts. Then a ghost from Hunter’s
past shows up on the campaign, challenging Hunter’s stability, and
straining Steve’s ability to defend and protect the man he’s
growing to love.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary
Length: 41,742 words

PRIDE AND POLITICS

Men of Holsum College 6

Daisy Harris

EROTIC ROMANCE

MANLOVE

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PRIDE AND POLITICS
Copyright © 2012 by Daisy Harris
E-book ISBN:

978-1-62241-367-6

First E-book Publication: September 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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Letter to Readers

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thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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DEDICATION

To the 2012 presidential campaign.

So much story fodder, so little time…

PRIDE AND POLITICS

Men of Holsum College 6

DAISY HARRIS

Chapter One:

Vermont

Steve hadn’t expected to meet Hunter in his underwear. No, he’d

been ready for a lot of things as a member of Chase Ford’s campaign
staff, but a half-naked college kid standing in the doorway wasn’t on
the list.

“Can I help you?” Hunter leaned on the doorway to his apartment,

his blonde hair spiked to the side, his white dress shirt unbuttoned and
turned up at the collar, and his red designer briefs on full display. He
tilted his head back so he could look down his nose at Steve through
the dark lenses of his sunglasses. “I’m a little busy right now.”

“We had a meeting.” Steve crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

He wasn’t going to be talked down to by a little shit four years
younger than him—even if said shit’s uncle was Steve’s boss. “Nine
thirty. The campaign office called to confirm it yesterday.”

A voice came from inside the apartment. “I can go if you’re

busy.” It was cheerful and young and definitely male. But Steve had
known Hunter was gay. That’s why the damned office had assigned
him as Hunter’s babysitter for the campaign trail.

Pride and Politics

But they were idiots for thinking Hunter and he had anything in

common just because they both liked men. Steve was nothing like the
spoiled playboy.

“You’re gonna have to come back later.” Hunter reached behind

his ear and pulled out a cigarette. He balanced it on the edge of his lip,
and then looked imploringly at Steve’s pants. “You got a light?”

Steve plucked the cigarette out of Hunter’s mouth. “I don’t

smoke, and neither should you. At least not where anyone could see
you.” Steve could almost feel a camera at his back or over his
shoulder. He imagined a picture of Hunter Ford, nephew of a future
vice president, looking like a drug-addled hooker on the six o’clock
news. He’d get fired before his job even started. “Now get inside
before someone sees you.”

There was a moment where Hunter crossed his arms and stood up

straighter. He looked like a statue with his aquiline nose and sharp
jaw. Steve could tell in the way his lips pinched and twisted to the
side that Hunter was considering whether to do what Steve said.

He could also tell by the way he cocked an eyebrow that Hunter

Ford wouldn’t do what he was told without a good fucking reason.

“We both know you agreed to this,” Steve said, trying to hint at

the threat without saying it out loud. The deal was simple—Hunter
acted like a fine, upstanding citizen, posing for pictures with his uncle
to boost his ticket’s reputation as gay-friendly, and he got a cool half
million.

Continue acting like a fuckup slut and every American’s worst

image of a gay man, and Hunter would get cut off. No more
allowance, no more apartment, hell, no money even to finish his
degree.

The choice seemed pretty damned simple to Steve. Especially

since Steve always acted like a decent human being and no one had to
pay him for it.

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“Fine. Come in.” Hunter stepped out of the doorway and waved

Steve inside. He didn’t make any move to close his shirt. “But give
me my damn cig back.”

Steve rolled his eyes and handed it over. It wasn’t in his job

description to make the idiot kid any healthier. He only had to make
him seem healthier. He followed Hunter into a brightly lit apartment
with a gigantic white couch. It looked like an upscale porno set,
complete with a young guy in his underwear sprawled out on the
throw blanket.

“Is he joining in?” The kid looked up from the celebrity magazine

he was reading.

He looks young. Steve would have to ask Hunter about the guy’s

age once he left. If he was under eighteen, Steve would have to do
some work to make sure the kid didn’t leak the relationship.

Hunter was an idiot. It was a miracle he’d only showed up in the

tabloids last month.

“No. I’m not joining in.” Steve set down his briefcase on the glass

dining room table. He wondered if Hunter would tell his boyfriend to
leave, but Hunter just poured himself a glass of orange juice in the
kitchen and leaned sideways to light his cigarette from one of the gas
burners.

The guy was going to light his hair on fire with that bullshit.

What, he couldn’t afford a lighter?

Hunter rounded the counter separating the kitchen from the living

room. He still hadn’t taken off his sunglasses, and Steve was positive
he was leaving them on just to be annoying. “You can if you want. Or
you two can go at it while I watch.”

The kid on the blanket looked up, pouting. “Hey. You can’t pull a

bait and switch, I drove twenty minutes.”

Even behind his dark lenses, Steve could tell Hunter was rolling

his eyes. “Listen, I’ve got to meet with this guy, and I forgot. Either
you can suck him off, or you can go.”

Pride and Politics

Steve held up his hands. “No one is sucking me off.” Christ,

Hunter was more dangerous than Steve thought. Because he hated to
admit it, but the kid on the couch was hot. And much as Hunter was a
brat, his entitled scowl was exactly the type of thing Steve had been
known to seek out on porn sites.

At a club, Steve might have pressed up against a guy who looked

like Hunter. But that made the guy all the more likely to get him fired,
and possibly blackballed. Steve cleared his throat. “I hate to say it, but
you should probably leave.”

The kid on the couch huffed angrily. He stood up, an erection

tenting the front of his briefs, and angrily grabbed his clothes off the
floor. “Fine.” He pulled on his jeans and then dragged a bright pink
tank top over his smooth chest.

Steve hoped it was waxed—that the kid was at least old enough to

have chest hair. Good lord.

Hunter didn’t say good-bye, he just raised his glass of orange

juice in the younger guy’s direction. He smiled cruelly, as if he
thought it was pretty darn funny that Steve was sending his boy toy
home. Or maybe he enjoyed making Steve uncomfortable.

Regardless, Steve didn’t care. Hunter was a job. A shitty,

annoying, pain-in-the-ass job, but at least one that paid. Steve
wouldn’t be making anywhere near the half million Hunter was
getting for showing up on the tour, but he’d earn enough to cover his
little sister’s first year of college.

He could deal with a snotty attitude for three weeks, even if the

way Hunter was smirking made Steve want to smack that grin right
off his face.

“I’m leaving!” the kid said when he reached the door.
But Hunter didn’t answer. Instead he looked right at Steve, one

corner of his mouth turned up in a calculating smile.

Steve was not going to say good-bye to Hunter’s boyfriend for

him. He wasn’t. No matter how uncomfortable the stupid kid at the
door made him feel.

Daisy Harris

“I said, ‘Good-bye!’” The kid’s plaintive whine carried down the

hall.

Before Steve could stop himself, he answered, “Bye.”
Hunter snorted a laugh into his hand, turning away.
Shit.

* * * *

“So what has my dear uncle roped you into doing?” Hunter pulled

out a chair from his table and sat. He’d never been one to think
standing made a man appear more formidable. In his experience,
whoever was more comfortable usually won. “I can’t imagine it’s
anything you want to be doing.”

The aptly-named Steve stared down at him, as if wondering

whether sitting down would lose him some imagined advantage. He
was clearly cut from that sort of cloth—the one where you thought
abiding by common sense and upstanding values got you somewhere
in life.

Fool.
Steve’s attention scrolled, as if in a daze, between Hunter’s

splayed legs. He looked away immediately.

Hunter tried not to smile. It was important to keep Steve feeling as

if he could win. Or at least lose with some dignity.

“It’s simple, and I’m sure you already know what your uncle

wants.” Steve opened his briefcase, apparently having decided to
remain standing. He handed Hunter a folder. “Here is a dress code,
conduct code, and list of don’ts for your role in your uncle’s
campaign.” Steve frowned a little. In the direction of Hunter’s groin.
Yeah, the guy couldn’t keep his eyes off Hunter’s dick.

“Let me guess. Polo shirts and seersuckers whenever I’m not

wearing the world’s most boring suit?” Hunter was more than familiar
with the outfits he’d be trotted out in. “What I don’t understand is
why they hired you to accompany me, like a…” Hunter tilted his head

Pride and Politics

back to study Steve, but mostly to give him a chance to fill in the
blanks with his worst imaginings of his job description.

The better part of management was letting people draw their own

conclusions.

“I’m an image consultant,” Steve said.
“Yes.” Hunter mulled that over. He kicked another chair out from

the table and before Steve could sit down, propped his feet on the
cushion. Feeling very comfortable indeed, he said, “But for right now,
you’re my handler.”

Steve shut his briefcase. Then he pulled the chair out from under

Hunter’s feet, rotated it, and then sat with his legs splayed on either
side of the backrest.

Hunter couldn’t help but smile. The guy had balls, he’d give him

that much. It was almost attractive—in a working-class sort of way—
how he was trying to play the macho card. Steve was thick enough to
pull off the butch routine, though Hunter could tell from the quality of
his shoes he was gay.

Bearish, though. He had thick, wavy, dark hair, and five o’clock

stubble even though it was ten in the morning. A guy like him would
look stupid in striped pastels like his family always made Hunter
wear. Instead, Steve wore an off-black T-shirt, made to look casual
even though it was probably designer, and a pair of khaki shorts.

Well played. He looked approachable, but not like he was trying

too hard.

“Yeah, for now I am your handler. And as such—I have to ask,

how old is your boyfriend?” Steve had dark eyes. Almost black. And
they were serious as the grave.

Which was absolutely hysterical, since Hunter didn’t have a

boyfriend and never had. “Who? Billy?” He thought back to Billy’s—
if that was his real name—Grindr profile. “I don’t remember.”

Steve scrubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Well, you need to ask

these things. Not that you’re going to be doing anyone on the
campaign trail, but you know you can’t be with guys under eighteen.”

Daisy Harris

“Fine, fine.”
Steve looked extremely stressed out about the whole thing, and for

the moment Hunter wasn’t in the mood to antagonize him. The goal
was to make Steve cowed, not panicked. If there were any problems
he could put his finger on, he’d go on some kind of rampage and
make Hunter’s life even more unpleasant. “I’ll look up his profile if
it’ll make you happier.”

Hunter reached to grab his laptop off the buffet. “I’m almost

positive he is, though.” As far as Hunter knew, Grindr only allowed
members who were over eighteen. And if they lied about their ages, it
wasn’t his job to check IDs.

He clicked around, easily finding the guy’s profile since he was

one of the last people Hunter had messaged. “Here.” He set down the
computer on the table, far enough from Steve that the guy had to
either crush his balls to reach for it or stand up.

He smiled, watching Steve’s hefty eyebrows furrow as Steve

considered his next move.

* * * *

Steve reached over to turn the computer, though doing so stabbed

the metal edge of the chair into his groin. “Aren’t you a little young to
be trolling the Internet for sex?”

Hunter’s eyes twinkled. It might have been the first emotion Steve

had seen from him. “I’m exactly the right age.”

“Ew.” Steve felt a little ill. He’d never been one for anonymous

sex. As a young man with full custody of a deaf younger sister, he
couldn’t afford any activities that could be construed as risky or a bad
influence. Of course, now she was eighteen and off to college. But
still…getting naked with a man he didn’t know seemed to Steve like a
bad idea.

He looked at the boy on his screen. Billy had listed his age as

eighteen, even though that was the minimum for the site.

Pride and Politics

Steve scowled. “Aren’t you twenty-one?”
Hunter shrugged. “Yeah.”
“So what are you doing hooking up with an eighteen-year-old?” It

wasn’t illegal, and yeah, he realized that wasn’t a huge age gap. But
he remembered being in his early twenties. There was a chasm of
difference between guys over and under twenty-one.

“He was around.” Hunter crossed his ankle over his opposite

knee, thankfully blocking his groin somewhat from view.

It really wasn’t Steve’s fault he kept looking. The guy was

wearing red underwear. “I’m sure you could have found someone
older.” The moment he said it, Steve wondered if it sounded like a
come-on, but he forced back his discomfort. Truth was, Hunter Ford
should be dating people his age or older. It looked bad for a
politician’s relative to be seen as chasing younger guys.

“Maybe I didn’t want to.” Hunter’s mouth tensed. He pulled off

his sunglasses and pinned Steve with his gray eyes.

And yeah, Steve had seen Hunter in pictures—his face was on the

Internet and in the tabloids. Steve had seen pictures snapped by the
family’s private investigator. But that hadn’t prepared Steve for the
sight of those eyes up close. They were like a stormy sky.

Hunter seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

Wait…what was the question?

“So you like younger guys, then?” Steve cleared his throat. “Guys

you can control?”

“You’re forgetting who I am.” Hunter stood and grabbed his

orange juice off the counter. Pulp stuck to the sides of the glass as if it
were fresh squeezed. “There’s no one I can’t control.”

“O-kay.” Steve wasn’t sure how to answer that one. He didn’t

know if he even wanted to try. “Well, no ordering in on the campaign
trail, okay?”

Hunter rubbed his face. Maybe the conversation was getting to

him. “What, and you’re not going to have sex for three weeks,
either?”

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Steve had gone a lot longer than that…“No. I’m sure nobody on

the staff is going to be having sex. Have you seen the schedule?
We’re booked solid.”

The way Hunter grinned was almost cute. Almost, if it hadn’t

been tipped in disdain. “Clearly, you’ve never been on a campaign
before.”

“No. I generally do consulting for people who actually want my

help.” Most of Steve’s clients were businessmen and women who’d
worked their whole lives to get ahead and had no idea how to hobnob
with shits like Hunter now that they’d gotten to the top. “This is a
one-time thing.”

“Lucky you.” Hunter reached over the counter and grabbed a pack

of cigarettes. He fished one out.

“Why do you say that?” Steve was going to have to get the kid a

patch, or a pack of nicotine chewing gum. He didn’t think he could
handle being around cigarette smoke for three weeks.

“No reason.” Hunter didn’t put the cigarette in his mouth. Instead,

he rolled it in his fingers. He looked at it as if it had done him some
serious wrong.

“Hey.” Steve had a moment of insight where he thought he might

be able to win Hunter over to his side. “Did you get everything
squared away with your semester abroad? I know you had to miss part
of that for the campaign.” Steve had the full rundown on Hunter’s
classes and activities. He was a Medieval Studies major and was
supposed to leave for a semester of study in Florence as part of his
graduating requirements. The tour of press conferences was going to
put off his schedule for a few weeks.

“No. I’ve called the school. Changed my tickets. But if my

fucking uncle asks me to…” Hunter trailed off. Hitching his cigarette
on his lip, he rounded into the kitchen.

Over the island, Steve watched him risk his hair and his safety

again as he lit it on the four-inch high flames from the burner.

Pride and Politics

Hunter stood up, and the end of the cigarette burned bright orange

as he pulled in a drag. Blowing it out smoothly, he said, “The deal is
three weeks. He wants more, he’ll have to talk to my lawyer.”

Daisy Harris

Chapter Two:

Virginia

Steve had never flown first class before. He was surprised to find

the thing about warm nuts was true. The flight attendant had really
brought him and Hunter a small bowl of microwaved cashews at the
start of their flight. And offered them champagne, too. Steve had
clicked a picture and sent it to his sister, knowing she would get a
kick out of the luxury shtick.

Hunter had declined the snack but downed the alcohol, despite

their flight leaving at 8:00 a.m. Steve had eaten both their food,
worried about making it until landing without a meal, only to be
surprised right after takeoff when they were served omelets, bacon,
and juice.

They didn’t say much to each other on the flight. Steve kept quiet,

knowing if he started chatting, Hunter might expect him to talk the
whole time.

Plus, Hunter had shown up at the airport in sunglasses and not

taken them off except to go through security, so Steve figured he
wanted to be left alone.

It wasn’t until they landed that Hunter lifted his head off the

pillow he’d been leaning on during the flight and said something.

“We’re getting our own rooms, right?”
Steve shoved his magazine into the pouch on the seat in front and

reached under for his carry-on baggage. “Of course.” He hated to
admit it, but Steve would have felt uncomfortable to have people
thinking they were travelling “together.” All Steve’s relationships had
been one way or another on the down low. With a little sister living at

Pride and Politics

home, he’d seldom invited his boyfriends to stay over. Nor did he
spend many nights away. He was used to being discreet about his
sexual preferences. And it wasn’t like Hunter was obvious, per se, but
he was a bit of a loose cannon. Steve had no idea what he’d say or do
next.

“Cool.”
Whatever emotion was behind that one-word answer, Steve

couldn’t tell. “The car should be waiting and our bags will be at the
hotel.”

Hunter didn’t respond. It was like Steve was talking to a brick

wall. He would have thought Hunter was being passive-aggressive if
it weren’t for Hunter’s posture. It wasn’t cocky like it had been the
day before. No, this morning, Hunter seemed…empty.

“After this stop, we’ll be flying on a private jet with your uncle

and his core staff.” Steve wondered why he was trying to cheer
Hunter up. It wasn’t his job to make Hunter happy. He pulled his
phone out again and turned it on. His sister hadn’t responded to the
picture he’d sent, and he started to worry.

He sent another text, asking if she was okay. It was only her

second week away from home, and she’d have started classes that
morning. He frowned as he wondered whether she’d already lost her
phone.

Her message buzzed on his screen a moment later. Yeah, I’m

okay. Busy in class. Talk later.

The airplane taxied, a giant moving bus full of impatient travelers,

but Steve was amazed how much less irritated he was after being in
first class. The air was fresher than in coach where he’d always flown
before. And when the airplane rolled to a stop at their gate, the captain
announced that travelers could stand and get their belongings, and that
passengers at the front would be disembarking first.

Steve climbed out of his seat, and he felt almost sad to lose the

comfort of being cared for by a helpful flight attendant. He grabbed
Hunter’s bag out of the overhead compartment.

Daisy Harris

Hunter pulled his phone out of his pocket and started doing

something Steve couldn’t see. A ghost of a grin danced across his
face, and Steve figured that was a bad sign.

“What are you doing?” Steve craned his head to see Hunter’s

texts.

“It’s none of your business.” Hunter tilted his head back to look

down his nose at Steve. Really, he wasn’t that much taller. Maybe an
inch. But he used what height he had to his advantage. Without
looking, Hunter clicked something on his phone and slipped it into the
pocket of his crisp linen pants.

It was amazing—they’d been on a plane for over three hours and

Hunter’s pants were completely unwrinkled.

Steve had made an effort not to cross his legs during the flight,

and that was the only reason his pants were still lying flat in their
pressed lines.

Hunter, on the other hand, had curled up into a ball by the window

and yet was completely unruffled.

Even though he and Hunter were in the third row, the people in

front of them stayed seated, as if somehow they realized Hunter was
American royalty and they didn’t want to step on any toes by pushing
ahead.

Steve stepped into the aisle. He wondered if he was supposed to

get behind Hunter. This was by far the weirdest experience of his life.
And the oddest thing by far was that it was pretty unlikely that anyone
on the plane, not even the flight attendant who’d been extra
accommodating to Hunter, knew who Hunter was.

He just gave off an aura of authority, or maybe coolness. They

probably thought he was a rock star.

“You don’t have to carry my bag for me.” Hunter grabbed his

Gucci duffel out of Steve’s hand and forged ahead as they walked up
the gate.

Oh, yeah, Hunter thought he belonged in front.

Pride and Politics

“Whatever.” Steve refused to apologize. He’d only been trying to

be nice. “You should eat something when we get to the hotel.”

Hunter should have been starving. The guy had to have been

awake since 6:00 am and it was past noon.

“I’ll order room service.”
Hunter strode through the airport as if he owned it—which, for all

Steve knew, maybe he did. When they got to baggage claim, Steve
spotted a driver dressed in a black suit and tie with a white shirt,
holding a sign that read Ford.

They approached him, but to Steve’s surprise, Hunter stepped to

the side and let Steve be the one to shake the driver’s hand.

“Hello. I’m Joe. I’ll be your driver today. The Fairway Excelsior,

right?” The guy appeared nice enough, very professional. He didn’t
seem to mind that Hunter was ignoring him. To the extent that when
Hunter gave him a curt, wordless nod, Joe dipped his head a bit, and
said, “Sir,” in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, that’ll be great.” Steve looked around the baggage claim

area, at the families trying to control small, overtired children, people
missing their luggage as it went around the belt. It felt so weird to be
separate from all that.

“Do you need anything? To use the restroom?” Joe prompted.
Hunter shook his head.
“Um…if you don’t mind, I’d like to grab a bottle of water.”

Despite the ridiculously good service in first class, Steve was still
dried out from the plane.

“Oh, we have that in the car,” Joe said, as if Steve should have

been aware of that already. “No luggage?”

Steve shook his head. “That should already be in the hotel.” He’d

bought and packed all of Hunter’s outfits in advance. It had been a
little odd to shop for a person he’d never met, but Governor Ford had
assured him that Hunter would be happy to wear anything.

Looking at Hunter’s hard line of a mouth and his disconnected

attitude, Steve thought happy might have been an exaggeration.

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“Wonderful.” The driver gestured to Hunter to go ahead of him,

which made no sense, really, since Hunter probably didn’t know
where the car was. But as Hunter pushed open the airport’s glass door
and stepped out into the steamy and gas-choked pickup area, it
occurred to Steve that Hunter was probably used to being expected to
go before anyone else.

* * * *

Steve had obviously never been in a limo.
Hunter watched him from across the open area between the two

sets of seats. Steve ran his hands over the controls that turned on the
television, the air conditioning, and the reading light.

He wondered whether Steve was nervous or excited. Maybe Steve

was jealous, or even angry. People behaved in all sorts of ways when
they entered his world, and Hunter had stopped trying to predict their
reactions. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve lost control
completely, opened the sunroof, and stuck his head out like one of
those idiots riding around on prom night.

“You should really eat something.” Steve looked meaningfully at

the tumbler of scotch in Hunter’s hand.

He’d poured it for himself out of habit, mostly. It was a natural

reaction, he figured, to getting into a car where there was alcohol for
the taking.

That and he had to see his uncle in a few hours. “I told you—I’ll

order a salad after we check in.”

Steve crossed his arms, looking across the divide of the limo

sternly. “Get a sandwich or something. We’ve got a long day ahead of
us. Then you should probably catch a nap.”

Hunter sipped his scotch, refusing to wince at the feel of it against

his airplane-parched throat. “Are you my nutritionist now, too?” He
fished around in the case of ice sunken into the limo’s armrest and

Pride and Politics

plucked out a couple cubes to drop in his glass. He stirred the ice
around, coating his finger with liquor in the process.

Then, watching Steve to gauge his reaction, he sucked his finger

into his mouth.

“No, but I do need to make sure you can still stand by the fund-

raiser tonight.” Steve dropped his gaze to the floor, rubbing the
stubble on his jaw. The fellow needed a shave already, and it was
hardly lunchtime.

“You may have forgotten, but I have a lot more experience with

this sort of thing than you do.” Hunter had been trotted out as part of
his father and uncle’s campaigns since before he could walk. He knew
perfectly well how to stand behind a candidate, smiling amicably and
waving like he was riding a parade float.

“You were nineteen during your last campaign tour.” Steve said it

as if it should mean something.

“So?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “So you couldn’t drink.”
Hunter laughed out loud at that one. “You think I didn’t drink

when I was nineteen?” He looked at Steve, with his thick teddy-bear
neck and his so-serious brown eyes. “Oh, you are an innocent, aren’t
you?”

“I just can’t imagine anyone let you get away with…”
“Steve.” Hunter held up his hand to stop Steve from saying more.

“Perhaps you imagine that being on the campaign trail was like a
Christmas special of an old-fashioned sitcom, but believe me when I
say that it is really not.”

The way Steve crossed his arms this time was calculating. “If

you’re so good at doing whatever you want, how come that paparazzo
managed to get that shot of you in Vegas?”

Hunter sighed, not wanting Steve to see his discomfort. He was so

careful, normally. So, so reluctant to do anything that could come
back and hurt him. But when he’d found out that his uncle—the

Daisy Harris

bastard who’d made his eighth grade a living hell—had been
nominated to run for vice president, he’d snapped.

One night of drinking until he stumbled, laughing out loud in

public, making out with drag queens in front of the club. Well, he’d
accomplished his goal of getting back at his family. Their name was
smeared all over the tabloids for a week.

But he should have known it would come back to haunt him.

Power, real power, was emotionless. Whoever said that revenge was a
dish best served cold was precisely right. Doing it any other way was
a red-hot mess.

“I got overconfident.” Hunter frowned. That—Steve who thinks he

knows everything—is how you admit to a mistake. Turn it around to
make it seem like an excess of strength.

Your play, asshole.

* * * *

Steve checked them into the hotel—tipping the concierge, the

bellboy, the driver, anyone who he hoped would be an ally. Each of
the people he handed a fiver smiled kindly enough, but all of them
eyed Hunter warily, as if they guessed that at any moment he might
do something to cause the entire hotel to come crashing down.

“We’re on the forty-seventh floor.” Steve handed Hunter his key

card. “Our rooms are adjoining, but we can keep the divider locked if
you want.”

Hunter didn’t look at him as he said, “I do want.” Then he strode

ahead of Steve to the elevators.

The hotel was organized into four towers, with four glass

elevators spearing up through the center. The second floor
crisscrossed over the first, so that you could see everyone walking on
the level above, and other than the centrally located elevators, the
entire middle section was open, all the way up to a giant glass ceiling
letting in light.

Pride and Politics

It was beautiful, but a security disaster. A cameraman with a zoom

lens could catch a shot of someone entering or exiting a hotel room
from almost any level. Steve didn’t even want to consider the
possibilities for a sniper.

“Doesn’t anyone in your family travel with a bodyguard?” he

asked as he stepped into the elevator.

Hunter pressed a button, and the pair of them started to rise

through the hotel. “Yeah, some of them.” He leaned back on the
handrail, showing the floors below his ass pressed up against the
glass. Hunter pulled out his smartphone. “My uncle will, and his wife
and kids. But a gay nephew? You gotta admit, I’d probably help his
campaign more dead than alive.”

There was no emotion in how Hunter said it. Steve wanted to

think he was fishing for sympathy, but the weird thing was, he didn’t
seem to be. It freaked Steve out, but he thought Hunter might be right.

The elevator came to a stop and dinged at their floor. Steve waved

Hunter forward as he’d seen other people do.

Hunter paused in front of the map showing the layout of the

levels. The picture looked like a crab having a seizure.

Steve figured it made as little sense to Hunter as it did to him, so

he said, “I think we should go left.”

Hunter didn’t answer. In fact, he seemed huffy as he led the way

down the hall Steve had suggested. His little ass clenched as he
walked—perfectly cradled in his well-tailored pants. Steve was struck
with an almost overwhelming desire to smack that pert little rump.
And then, when Hunter was stammering some snotty response, to take
the little brat’s hand and drag him down the hallway to their room.

No. Absolutely, a hundred times, no. Steve wasn’t going to do it,

obviously. But he shouldn’t have been thinking about doing it, either.
Hunter’s ass was bad news. Bad, bad, bad.

“I’ll order something to eat, Nanny Dearest. Promise.” Hunter

stopped at his door and slipped his key card into the reader. The lock
clicked open and Hunter disappeared into the room.

Daisy Harris

With a frustrated sigh, Steve did the same. He didn’t know why

Hunter had to be so damned infuriating. They were on the same side.
Steve didn’t have anything against the guy, at least not beyond Hunter
being a gigantically entitled pain in the ass. But even that wasn’t so
annoying.

Steve had worked on the sales floors of Bloomingdale’s for three

years before one of the men for whom he’d done some personal
shopping suggested he start up a side business as an image consultant.
He’d built his business while holding down a full-time job as a
manager until just a couple weeks ago. And in the process, he’d dealt
with all manner of customers and never gotten this riled.

His hotel room was bigger than his apartment’s living room, with

two queen beds, a mini fridge, a table, a desk, and a television that
took up half the wall. He dipped his head into the bathroom and
flipped on the light, finding that the “bathroom” was actually three
rooms. One with sinks, a soaking tub, and a giant mirror with
embedded television screen, another with a shower, and a third small
cubicle containing a toilet.

The place was beautiful, and Steve snapped a few quick pictures

to send to his sister. He would have knocked on the door between
them and joked with Hunter about the marvels of the bathroom if he
thought for a second Hunter wouldn’t roll his eyes or sneer.

Yeah, he needed a bath, then a nap, and then a shave. He was

losing his mind and it was only the first day.

But first, Steve needed to check that Julie was doing okay at

college. So he went out into the main room and dug his laptop out of
his briefcase. Then he messaged his sister to see if she had time to
talk.

Hey. You around? he typed into their messaging program.
Julie’s reply beeped on his computer screen.
Yeah. What’s up?
Steve felt calmer just seeing her words there on his screen. She

was safe. After caring for her day in and day out for the past seven

Pride and Politics

years, it was so odd not to have her close—asking what was for
dinner, or looking for a lost pair of jeans.

You want to do video?
Since Julie was deaf, their only options for communicating long

distances were to either message or video chat. Steve never admitted
it to his sister, but he found signing harder to understand when he saw
it on screen than in person. Still, he liked seeing her face and her
expressions when she signed to him. It was funny, she’d move her
hands off screen half the time, and not even realize he had no idea
what she was saying.

I cant right now. Her typo suggested she was texting from her

phone instead of her computer.

Steve sat on the bed, propping the computer in front of him.
Too bad. Maybe later?
Geez, big bro. I’m trying to be independent, here!
He snickered, picturing the way she would have playfully pushed

him away if they were in person.

Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Everything good at school?
Yeah, mostly.
He frowned.
What’s wrong?
Nothing now. But student insurance won’t cover my new hearing

aids. They want me to go back to external.

Steve scrubbed at his face. He’d stayed at Bloomingdale’s for the

benefits right up until his sister had left for college so she would never
have to worry about medical expenses or pre-existing conditions with
her deafness.

I’ll call the school.
No! I’ll just pay out of pocket. I don’t need it for another few

months.

He hated feeling powerless, like he couldn’t protect his sister from

everything the world was going to throw at her. But he remembered

Daisy Harris

being eighteen, and how much he’d wanted his parents to stop
coddling him.

Of course, when they both died in a car crash a year later, he

would have given anything on the planet to get back his mother’s
meddling or his father’s looking over his shoulder while he tried to
finish his homework.

Fine. But let me know if you need anything. Money, help…
I know!!
Her exuberance carried even in her short messages. It made Steve

grin. He looked up from his computer, feeling like maybe he could
face setting his belongings on the table and unpacking what little he’d
need for their stay at the Excelsior.

Let me know when you have time for video.
Steve sent the message and waited for her reply. When it came, it

was a silly little emoticon of a smiley face sticking out its tongue. He
wanted to blow a raspberry right back at her.

He heard the sound of Hunter’s door opening, and Steve looked

up from his computer. He figured it was room service bringing Hunter
something to eat.

Have fun, he messaged his sister. Then he shut his computer and

placed it on the desk.

Steve strained to hear, wondering if he could make out the

jangling of the cart, and trying to decide whether it would be out of
bounds for him to knock on Hunter’s door and check on what he was
eating. He could ask the hotel staff what Hunter had ordered, but that
seemed underhanded. Like spying. And he shouldn’t have had to spy
on Hunter to make sure the guy was toeing the line.

All he could hear was the whir of air conditioning and the buzz of

the hotel’s activity. Steve opened the heavy curtains along one wall
and was unsurprised to find the entire stretch was a solid window. The
view was amazing, overlooking a park. Of course, there were
buildings all around, so anyone could see in.

Pride and Politics

Shit. He’d have to have a serious conversation with Hunter about

not walking around his room in red underwear. Or, God forbid,
shoving his naked ass up against the window.

That was the kind of over-the-top thing he was on the one hand

sure Hunter would never do, but on the other hand believed with all
his heart that if Hunter could—if he let go for even a second—he
would do exactly. Moon the entire world.

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. Boy, that would be a sight.
Trying to get his mind away from thinking, once again, about

Hunter Ford’s ass, Steve pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.
He closed the gauzy portion of the window shades for privacy and
shucked off his pants and shirt. Then Steve crossed to the bathroom.

He’d only started the water when his phone rang in the outer

room. Steve sighed, twisting off the faucet. He wrapped a towel
around his hips. And before answering the phone, he checked the state
of his armpits, making sure he was still fresh enough to get dressed
and deal with Hunter or the other campaign staff if necessary.

He picked up his phone and checked the number.
Governor Ford.
Shit.
Steve answered, all of a sudden feeling doubly naked. “Hello?”
“Steven. It’s Chase. Can I talk to Hunter?” Governor Ford’s voice

was hard and cold and completely to the point.

“Yes, sir.” Steve answered the only thing he could, even though

he wondered why the governor wasn’t calling Hunter directly. “Let
me knock on his door and see if he’s available.” Steve unlocked the
door on his side of the passage between the two rooms and rapped on
Hunter’s side.

“Aren’t you sharing a room?” the governor asked.
“Um…well, they’re adjoining.” Steve could tell by the governor’s

tone that he thought they should be in the same space, where Steve
could keep an eye on Hunter. Or maybe a leash.

Shit. Too sexy. Steve should not have had that last thought.

Daisy Harris

No one answered on Hunter’s side. Steve even put his ear to the

door, but didn’t hear anything “He’s asleep, sir. Can I have him call
you back when he wakes up?” Steve’s pulse hammered in his throat.

“Okay. As long he’s there,” Governor Ford grumbled. “One of my

staff members said that they saw him leave the hotel.”

Steve swallowed back his panic. “Nope. He’s right here.” Steve

dashed across the room to throw on his clothes, the phone hitched
under his ear. “He’ll call you in an hour or so.” The phone slipped
out, and Steve caught it one-handed as his zipper snagged on his
shirtsleeve.

“No need to do that. I’ll see you both this evening.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve nodded like a bobblehead, his hands shaking so

much he had trouble hitting End on the call. Then he belted his pants
and grabbed his tie off the chair. Steve gathered his key card, phone,
and wallet, and scrubbed his too-long stubble as he dragged open his
door.

When he found that little shit…Steve tried to calm his mind and

think of where Hunter might have gone and the best way to find him
without letting anyone know they’d left the building.

Steve stepped into the hotel’s open hallway, looked both

directions, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

Well, fuck.
He dug through his pockets and pulled out the key card for

Hunter’s room. As casually as he could, he opened Hunter’s door and
let himself in.

Hunter’s room was laid out like his but was about fifty percent

bigger. His windows wrapped around the wall so that Hunter had a
corner view of the park below. His bags were unpacked and his
clothes piled neatly in the drawers.

On the desk, Steve eyed Hunter’s computer. Then he flipped it

open and loaded a browser window. It didn’t take long to find Grindr
in Hunter’s history, and when he did, the user name and password
populated automatically.

Pride and Politics

Yep. Apparently Hunter had just used the site to plan a

rendezvous at a gay bar.

Nice. Steve was going to fucking kill him.
He noted the location and called the concierge to order him a cab.
“What address shall I give?” the concierge asked.
“I’ll tell the driver myself.” No need to tell more people than

necessary where he was going.

“Very good, sir. The cab will be downstairs in five minutes.”
Steve called Hunter on his way down the elevators, but Hunter

didn’t pick up. Frustrated, he shoved his phone into the holder on his
belt and walked toward the cab waiting outside. He tipped the bellhop
who opened the door for him, all the while wondering if that was the
guy who’d ratted Hunter out to his uncle.

Man. Steve was going to have to get his own network of spies if

he was going to keep up with the boy rebel.

“Where to?” the cab driver asked.
Another cab pulled up next to his in the majestic valet section of

the hotel. Steve saw a flash of blond hair, a turned-up white collar.
Then a pair of dark glasses as Hunter got out of the cab.

“Um…actually, I don’t need to go anywhere.” Steve fumbled in

his pockets. He rushed to shove a ten-dollar bill in the cab driver’s
hand. “Here, for your trouble.”

Outside, Hunter walked through the door held open by the hotel

staff.

Steve got out of the cab, patting his pockets and trying to make it

look as if maybe he’d just forgotten something in his room.

“Shall I hold the cab for you, sir?” the valet asked as Steve passed.
“No, thanks. I forgot something I have to do. I’ll go out later,” he

lied. Then Steve greased the boy’s hand with a tip, hoping to garner
some goodwill.

“Thank you, sir.” The kid ducked his head, but it was impossible

to tell if the tip had the desired effect of winning his allegiance.

Daisy Harris

He strode through the hall as fast as he could without looking

harried and spotted Hunter right as Hunter boarded the elevator.

Steve might have imagined it, but it looked like Hunter smirked.
He was going to kill him.
His elevator came as soon as Steve pressed the button. And as it

started to ascend through the hotel, he could see Hunter in the other
elevator above him, leaning casually against the glass wall.

* * * *

If that damned bitch hadn’t gotten on at the twenty-seventh floor,

Hunter could have gotten to his room and dead bolted the door before
Steve could show up to chew him out. And Hunter knew that’s what
was coming. The standard whine-and-threaten routine that Steve had
been hired to do.

She got off at thirty-seven.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter saw Steve’s elevator taking

the lead. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him. The thought of Steve
watching him, with those heavy eyebrows and serious eyes, got
Hunter kind of hot.

Of course, he’d been horny already since his hookup turned out to

be way less attractive than his profile picture. And yeah, Hunter could
have gotten a blow job and been done with it, but for some reason, he
hadn’t felt like bothering.

The elevator dinged on the top floor, and Hunter barely had time

for an exasperated sigh before the doors opened and a fuming Steve
reached in and grabbed his arm.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hunter threw him

off—surprised Steve had been bold enough to touch him. “Don’t
manhandle me.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve’s clothes were wrinkled, his

jaw shadowed, and his eyes furious. “Sneaking out like a teenager?”

Pride and Politics

“I went out for a while. I’m not a prisoner.” Hunter stalked ahead,

going to their rooms.

“No, you’re not.” Steve walked alongside him, not letting Hunter

get too much of a lead. “But you did agree to stay out of trouble for
the next three weeks.”

“Do I look like I’m in trouble?” Hunter didn’t expect Steve to

answer. He pulled his key card out of his pocket, but Steve beat him
to it, slipping a card through the reader.

Steve got in his way, stepping in front of Hunter and then opening

the door. “In.”

Hunter had the sense that Steve was going to try to take off his

sunglasses, so he snatched them off his face and folded them into his
pocket before Steve got the chance. “Fine. I was heading back
anyway.”

Steve followed him inside. “I don’t understand, Hunter. Help me

get it.” Steve shut the door behind him, and wandered over the doors
separating their adjoined rooms. He didn’t meet Hunter’s eyes.
“Why—after you agreed to come, and agreed to play along and be a
good boy—would you run out for a quickie with a stranger as soon as
we got to the hotel?”

Hunter wanted Steve to look up—to ask his fucking questions to

Hunter’s fucking face. “I didn’t do it.” The words slipped out. Maybe
he was making excuses, but for whatever reason, he wanted Steve to
know. “The guy was a complete toad. At least eighty pounds more
than he must have weighed when he shot his profile pic.” He waited
for Steve to laugh, but Steve didn’t.

“You know that’s not the issue.” Steve opened the doors between

their rooms, making them fully adjoining. Then he turned and with
stern eyes took Hunter in from his face to his shoes. “What the fuck is
your problem?”

Hunter didn’t know why Steve had bothered with the rolling

assessment, since it was clear Steve didn’t see him at all.

Daisy Harris

“I was horny.” Hunter unbuttoned his shirt angrily. Maybe that

wasn’t the whole reason he’d left the stifling hotel, with its see-
through walls and windows that didn’t open, but it was one of them.
“You cock-blocked me yesterday. I hadn’t gotten laid for almost
forty-eight hours before that, dealing with all the fallout from having
to rearrange travel plans and convince all my professors in Florence
not to flunk me—oh, and I had to do all that in Italian, with a time
change.”

Hunter shut his mouth, refusing to give his uncle’s minion the

satisfaction of knowing how thoroughly his uncle had screwed up
Hunter’s fall semester.

“And what, you don’t have a right hand?” Steve ran a hand

through his hair and then through the beard stubbornly forming on his
chin. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve gone?” Steve pinched his
lips together, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. His lips looked full and
pink against all that determined stubble.

“Wanna have a go?” Hunter asked. Hate sex was as good as any.

Hell, it was better in Hunter’s estimation.

“Yeah—no, thanks.” Steve let out a little chuckle.
Hunter hadn’t really expected Steve to say yes, so he just finished

unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it out of his slacks. He unbuckled his
belt and took off his pants, getting comfortable. “Your loss.” He
flopped back on the bed and grabbed his remote.

Steve’s eyes sparkled and he looked like he was holding back a

laugh.

“What?” Hunter turned on the television.
“Nothing.” Steve shook his head.
His attitude pissed Hunter off. And, as usual, being angry made

Hunter’s cock pulse between his legs, filling the front of his briefs. He
grabbed the length through the cotton but kept his eyes on the screen
as if he’d completely lost interest in the man standing in the passage
between their rooms. “Fuck you.”

Pride and Politics

Hunter clicked through to pay-per-view. As he suspected, the

hotel had a few gay titles. Good. Let’s see how funny Mr. I-Haven’t-
Gotten-Laid-Since-Bush-Was-in-Office likes it when I take matters
into my own hands.

* * * *

“I’d like a club sandwich,” Steve said to the room service

operator. He heard a groan from Hunter’s room, followed by a couple
lines of cheesy porn dialogue. He looked down at the menu, trying to
force his mind to the task at hand. “Make that two club sandwiches,
two Cokes, and a Caesar salad with jerk chicken.”

The noise in the next room grew louder, as if Hunter had turned

up the volume. And over the voices of the guys on film, Hunter
called, “You should check this out, man. Double penetration doesn’t
always work for me, but damn.”

“Will that be all?” the room service operator asked.
Steve closed his eyes, forcing his brain to work. He nodded once,

but then remembered that the room service operator couldn’t see.
“Yes, that’s all. Thank you.”

“It’ll be about thirty minutes, sir.”
“That’ll be great,” Steve said. But what he really meant was,

That’ll be great—assuming I don’t spontaneously combust before
then.

He was so hard he could barely walk.
Hunter had fucking undressed in front of him—opened his shirt

and dropped his pants and then fallen onto his bed like he was just
begging for Steve to climb on top.

His mind reeled. Hunter always looked so cool and collected.

Even when his temper rose it was never more than a hot simmer under
the surface, quickly doused with a coating of ice.

Daisy Harris

Steve had screwed his fair share of guys. Okay, four—but two of

them he’d dated for over a year. Long enough to know how guys
looked and sounded when he pushed into them.

And yet he couldn’t for the life of him imagine what Hunter

would be like with a cock up his ass. Would he be as much of a
badass snot as he always was? Steve couldn’t imagine that. And yet
he couldn’t exactly picture anything else.

The question mark was making him nuts.
“Oh, man. You were right about my hand. It is good,” Hunter

called from his room, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I should have
started with my left one and saved the treat for later.”

Steve palmed his dick through his pants. “I feel like quite the

matchmaker. I hope you and your hand will be very happy together,”
he called back. He hoped Hunter didn’t hear the way he was gritting
his teeth to not moan.

“Mmm…” Hunter made the noise Steve wanted to.
Fuck.
“Hey, I ordered room service, so you’ve got half an hour to finish

and clean up. I’m gonna shower.” Steve crossed his room.

“Aw, me and my hand were just getting started. He was thinking

about bringing over a friend and having a three-way.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The worst part was that he had to leave his door open, hearing

every groan between the porn actors, and also these little huffing,
grunting noises that he knew Hunter was making them just to drive
him insane.

But it didn’t matter, because Steve was beyond caring. He started

the shower and shoved his pants and boxers down to his ankles in a
quick move. His stiff cock bounced up to splatter pre-cum on his
belly.

Hunter called out some mocking thing from the next room, but

Steve couldn’t hear him over the fall of water in the shower. And he

Pride and Politics

stepped in as quickly as he could—relaxing as soon as the warmth
drenched his body.

His hand might have moved of its own accord, that’s how quickly

Steve gripped his dick. In three tugs—more like scratching an
unnamable itch than pleasuring himself—his ass clenched on a thrust
and Steve’s whole body went stiff. He tried not to whimper as he
came like he hadn’t done in years.

Daisy Harris

Chapter Three:

North Carolina

Backstage at the press conference felt like a foxhole. Lights

flashed on the other side of the curtain as the campaign staff
organized the reporters and dealt with the sound system. Members of
the governor’s staff that Steve hadn’t met yet stood talking frantically
in small huddles.

Next to Steve, the only person he really knew—Hunter—leaned

on a tall stool, his expression as stoic as if he were preparing to dash
into a field of land mines.

“You okay?” Steve asked. But Hunter only gave him a curt nod.
“Steven!” The sound of the governor’s bark made Steve spin

around, though he noticed that Hunter didn’t even twitch.

“Yeah? I mean—yes, sir.” Steve forced back a tide of

nervousness. He was an image consultant, for fuck’s sake. He should
be able to manage his own damn image.

The thing was, Steve felt comfortable on the sales floor or in his

clients’ offices on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The frantic
scurrying backstage at a press conference? That was all new.

The governor crossed to Steve and Hunter, his eyes raking over

Hunter’s back, since Hunter still hadn’t bothered to turn around. “I
need to talk to you for a moment.” Then, his eyes narrowing, he
grumbled, “Hunter, boy. Have them double-check your makeup. I
don’t want you to look too…” He trailed off.

Steve wasn’t sure what he had been going to say, but he could tell

by the way Hunter’s shoulders tensed that this was an old argument.

Pride and Politics

Hunter rose slowly and turned with the casual manner of a fashion

model. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

There was a slight grind of the teeth in how Hunter spoke, enough

to let Steve know that seeing his uncle pissed him off.

“Go back. Ask them to change the color on your lips. You look

like a damned girl.”

Steve would have expected Hunter to lash out, but instead he

twisted his mouth into a sneer. “I can’t help it if I’m pretty.”

His uncle rolled his eyes. The color in his cheeks was darkening

under his heavy coating of pancake foundation. “You know perfectly
well that you need to look plain. Heck, I wish they could pull off
homely. I didn’t agree with my analysts about bringing you on the
tour as it is, but I won’t have you up on that stage making America
think you’re a pervert who wants to sleep with their children.”

Hunter’s sneer grew into a smile, but one so cold it froze Steve’s

toes. “Oh, Uncle Chase, please. Most people’s children are ugly.”

Oh, damn. Steve wanted to laugh. He pinched his lips to stop the

sound from escaping.

“Stop being a brat. I know you’re just mad I made you cancel

your little trip to Europe.”

A makeup girl had run up to the governor and was brushing extra

blush on his cheeks. It occurred to Steve how mean it was for the
governor to be scolding Hunter in front of strangers.

“It’s a requirement for my major. I need it to graduate.” Hunter

stopped talking, the way he always did when he started to get riled.
Someone passed with water bottles, and Hunter grabbed one out of
the man’s hand. He opened it before taking a swig. “And anyway, I
only moved back the dates.”

A Latina girl with a headset and hair pulled back in a tight

ponytail handed the governor a sheet of paper.

As he lowered his head to read it, Governor Ford said, “It’s not

my fault you chose to schedule it during fall of an election year.”

Daisy Harris

He said it with this weird emphasis on it’s not my fault. It made

Steve think maybe there was more to this conversation than was being
said. And Steve wasn’t surprised when Hunter’s reply was indignant.

“My semester abroad needs to be completed by senior year, and I

can’t go in the spring because of lacrosse. I am captain of the team.”
Something flickered in his gray eyes—was that doubt? Hope? Pride?
Steve couldn’t begin to guess.

The governor lifted his eyebrows, never looking up from his

paper. “You know they only named you captain to get in better with
your family.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open, and he struggled not to voice his

shock out loud. He couldn’t imagine his parents, when they’d been
alive, ever saying something that cruel.

What surprised him even more than the governor’s comment was

how Hunter seemed to gain steel from it. He lifted his chin and
straightened his back. Steve was sure Hunter would have put on his
sunglasses if he’d had them.

“You know how it is, governor,” Hunter said governor as if it

were a dirty word. “People need their leaders, no matter how ill-
chosen.”

Governor Ford’s chest bounced almost imperceptibly as if he were

laughing. And the corner of his mouth curled. “Just go so I can talk to
your handler.” Governor Ford waved Hunter away.

Hunter left. Steve could only imagine that it was because the

governor had finally been honest.

Beyond the curtains, the crowd outside must have grown because

the sound of them talking to one another was like a roar. The
campaign manager spoke into the microphone and the noise dulled
slightly, but it was still overwhelming.

“Steven, I never got a chance to properly thank you for taking this

position at such late notice.”

“No need, sir. This was a great opportunity.” Steve thought about

how surprised he’d been when he was contacted by the campaign.

Pride and Politics

Apparently, one of the governor’s assistants had heard about him
through a relative who knew one of Steve’s clients.

Still, Steve couldn’t help but think the governor should be

thanking Hunter for coming along instead. Hunter was the one who
he’d most inconvenienced. “And it’s a great job. Hunter’s a good
guy.” It was funny how he felt the need to defend Hunter to his uncle,
since most of the time Steve thought Hunter was a spoiled little shit.

But really, when Hunter wasn’t trying to make Steve’s life a

living hell, he was kind of funny.

“You don’t have to lie to me, son,” the governor said warmly.

“I’ve known Hunter all his life. Seen his…proclivities with more
clarity than most.”

Again, there was a hidden meaning, but Steve didn’t want to try to

work it out, since he was wrapped up in what exactly Governor Ford
meant by proclivities. Did he mean being gay? “You know I’m gay,
too, right?” Steve probably shouldn’t have said it so curtly, but he
wasn’t going to pretend to be straight for the governor’s benefit.

“Oh, I know.” Governor Ford waved his hand. “I just

mean…Well, I know Hunter can be provocative.”

Steve couldn’t really argue with that, but he didn’t like feeling

that the governor was trying to turn him against Hunter. Sure,
Governor Ford was his boss, but Steve had to spend a lot of time with
Hunter. More than that, he felt…Okay, maybe saying he “liked”
Hunter was too strong. But as much as it pained Steve to think it,
maybe he felt sorry for the guy. Or admired him. Pity and admiration,
it was a weird mix.

“Just don’t let him draw you in. He has something of a history of

getting himself into trouble, and I trust you to have a good enough
head on your shoulders not to fall prey to his seductions.” The
governor turned purple under his makeup, so that the color showed up
in faded blotches where the foundation was thin.

Daisy Harris

He waved over one of the staff members, and Steve could tell

from his posture and his rapid shift of attention that the governor was
done with the conversation.

Steve blinked, suddenly feeling torn in about three hundred

directions. There was a subtext going on and Steve could not for the
life of him figure it out. He didn’t even know if he wanted to figure it
out. It was like he was in a play but had only a few pages of the script.

“You look like you could use some coffee,” the girl with the

headset and the ponytail said to him. She held a clipboard to her chest.

Silly, but the device on her ear made her seem instantly familiar.

So much that Steve had to stop himself from signing as he said,
“Thank you so much.”

She smiled in a way that bordered on flirtatious. “Yeah, it’s a bit

crazy back here. This your first campaign?” The girl led the way to a
table laid out with coffee and snacks.

Steve felt a bit bad for eating, since Hunter and the other people

who were going to be on stage couldn’t have anything but water in
case they got something caught in their teeth. “Yeah. I take it it’s not
yours.”

“Nah. I started out volunteering for Governor Ford’s re-election

campaign two years ago, but then got hired as general field staff
halfway through. This time around I’m a field staff coordinator.”

“Oh. Good.” Steve couldn’t imagine wanting to work in this type

of atmosphere full time, but he supposed it would be fun if one were
an adrenaline junky.

“I’m Natalie, by the way.” She held a hand out in front of her

clipboard, smiling.

“Steve. I’m Hunter Ford’s image consultant.” Steve hoped it

sounded as impressive as her job title. He got the sense that in this
fast-paced world, there was a hierarchy. And Steve refused to be told
by anyone to fetch.

“Oh.” Natalie looked him over for a sec. He saw it the moment

she realized he was gay because her smile dimmed a fraction. But

Pride and Politics

then her eyes widened as if she’d just realized she knew who he was.
“Hunter’s handler?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Steve picked up a paper cup and

flipped the toggle on the coffeemaker to fill it.

“Cool. I don’t know the guy, so…” She trailed off, and Steve

understood it to mean “I don’t have any opinion on him whatsoever.”

He was grateful. It was so nice to talk to someone who didn’t have

any personal stake in the power struggle between Hunter and his
uncle.

“I’m a little surprised they asked him to come on the tour, to be

honest.” Steve felt like he could be straightforward with her. He
didn’t know if he could trust her, but imagined that she might know
something about the reasons Hunter had been coerced into appearing.

Natalie shrugged as she began filling her own coffee cup. “The

governor was under fire for his voting history on gay marriage. But,
as you know, he can’t afford to do a 180—that would be political
suicide. So his advisors told him that having a gay nephew on the
campaign trail, waving and smiling, would send a message.”

“What message is that?”
“That he isn’t anti-gay.” She gathered a handful of creamer

pouches out of the dispenser and offered one to Steve, who shook his
head no.

“Is he?” Steve asked.
Again, she shrugged, as if she didn’t really understand the

question. “I dunno. I don’t think it matters, really.”

“Huh.” Steve considered that for a second. Frowning, he said,

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t.”

Natalie shook a couple packets of sugar and then poured them into

her coffee. She looked past Steve. “Hey. That’s your boy, there. Nice
suit. Dior?”

Steve twisted and caught sight of Hunter and the rest of the Ford

family filing onto the stage. The suit looked amazing, matching
Hunter’s eyes perfectly. But the makeup artist had done something

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weird to Hunter’s skin tone that made him look nothing like himself.
His pale skin had been browned to look like he had a healthy tan.
Which should have been attractive, but on Hunter it made him seem
like a stranger.

Hunter kept his eyes straight ahead. He squinted slightly against

the bright lights but kept his gaze as empty as a mannequin’s.

“Hey.” Steve had a brain wave. “Is there anyone around who

could run up and grab something out of Hunter’s room for me? And
maybe someone who could put in an order for room service to be
brought up for after the press conference?”

“Sure.” Natalie pressed a finger to the side of her head, listening

to something someone on the other side of her headset was saying.

She turned to the side and muttered a conversation into her

mouthpiece. After a moment, she returned to Steve’s side. “Yeah.
Hold on a sec.” Natalie pressed the earpiece again and said into the
microphone floating in front of her face, “Hey. Can I get a runner for
Steve Camden, Hunter Ford’s handler?”

Someone on the other side must have agreed, because Natalie

smiled. Then she gave Steve a wink. “I’ll hook you up, buddy.”

* * * *

The lights were sweltering, and by the time his uncle was

answering his third question, there was a thin layer of sweat under
Hunter’s suit. It didn’t help that his makeup felt like a ski mask.

A trickle of moisture dripped down his temple, but Hunter knew if

he wiped it away, he’d leave a pale streak across the bronzer the damn
makeup girl had slathered him in. Plus, he knew the cameras weren’t
catching the drop of sweat, and wiping it would make him look
nervous.

Yeah, he could just picture the field day the news channels would

have over whether he was uncomfortable. With nothing the fuck else
to talk about during a twenty-four-hour news cycle, they’d analyze the

Pride and Politics

shit out of why he’d wiped his forehead. He could just picture the
anchorman claiming he’d done so because he didn’t agree with his
uncle’s positions on whatever the fuck his uncle was talking about.

Greece? Syria? The debt limit? Hunter wasn’t even paying

attention. His face hurt from the effort to hold the smile he’d pasted
on. The worst part was gay bloggers would probably be just as bad as
the news channels, expecting his every move to be some sort of “tell”
about his inner workings or his position on every aspect of gay rights.

Fuck them all.
Hunter tilted his head to an angle that said “I’m listening, and I

agree wholeheartedly.” He was expected to shift positions every so
often so he didn’t look stiff. And even though the lights were burning
his retinas, he forced himself not to blink too much. His eyes watered
with the effort.

How many questions had his uncle fielded? It had to have been

six already. Or seven. The clock at the back of the room called to him
like a beacon, but Hunter knew he couldn’t look.

“Look at Hunter Ford, checking the time! Boy, he looks

uncomfortable!” the news anchor would crow, or more likely some
bitch on a morning show. Then all the talking heads around them
would have a good laugh over what an idiot Hunter was for letting
himself get dragged around on this dog and pony show.

Fuck. Them. All.
He shifted his weight to his opposite foot, ignoring a sudden lurch

of pins and needles on the side he’d been standing on too long.

Hunter exhaled. It must have been ten questions. And they’d set

the cap at twelve. When he got off this stage, he was going to go up to
his room, strip naked, and get in the tub. There, he would smoke a
pack of cigarettes while drinking his way through the minibar and try
to forget this entire experience enough to do the whole thing all over
again tomorrow night.

Smile, goddammit.

Daisy Harris

Fuck, his cheeks hurt. He almost wanted to give someone a blow

job so he could stretch his fucking jaw. Too bad Steve was such an
uptight prick.

“One more!” his uncle called out to the throng of reporters

clamoring at the front. “We have a long tour planned.”

No shit, you fuck.
Still, Hunter was damned glad when his uncle wrapped up his

response, circling back to the same four phrases he’d used all night,
no matter what the question.

If Hunter ever heard the phrase, “America’s today, America’s

tomorrow!” again after the campaign he would stab the person who
said it.

Cameras flashed, and his cousin Wendy clasped his hand on one

side and her brother Mike threw an arm around his opposite shoulder.
Wendy’s grip was tight and bony, but he had to admit she was the one
person on the tour who might have it as bad as he did. She’d been
holding her two-year-old in her arms for the whole damn question and
answer session.

The little girl had been well behaved as fuck. Hunter wondered

how many milligrams of Valium she’d given the kid.

But despite the stabbing pins and needles in his leg and Wendy’s

death grip, Hunter held his smile through every shot, angling his head
and shifting postures as he’d been coached his whole life.

Finally, his uncle led the way off stage, and Hunter cleared the

curtain.

He exhaled. Hunter knew people were saying things to him,

debriefing him and giving directions for the next day on the tour, but
Hunter couldn’t hear them over the ringing in his ears and the
chanting chorus of fuck, fuck, fuck that had settled into his mind.

Someone shoved something into his hand, and Hunter closed his

grip around a familiar fold of plastic. He put the sunglasses on before
he’d even realized who’d given them to him.

Pride and Politics

Hunter sighed, feeling instantly calmer. Yeah, he couldn’t really

see the darkened backstage area through the lenses, but that made
things all the better. He didn’t want to see it anyway.

He looked for his savior and found Steve standing at his side.
Steve smiled. “Let’s head up to the rooms, okay?” He touched

Hunter’s arm, urging him to the exit.

“Yeah.” Hunter blinked behind his frames, suddenly so relieved

he could have cried.

* * * *

Hunter threw off his jacket and dragged down his tie. He stood in

front of the room-service cart, touching one of the roses on the
centerpiece.

Steve had paid an exorbitant amount to have them delivered

within the hour. Of course, it was the campaign’s money. But that
hadn’t stopped Steve from wincing when he’d seen the bill.

“Thank you for this.” Hunter poured himself a glass of scotch.
Steve hadn’t asked what Hunter drank—from what he’d seen, the

guy would drink anything with alcohol in it—but he figured that
eighteen-year-old single malt was the type of thing Hunter would
appreciate. “You’re welcome.”

Hunter kept his back to Steve. His voice was faraway when he

said, “This may have been the nicest thing someone has ever done for
me.” His voice was unusually quiet, and maybe a little shaky.

“Hey, I’m sure you want to take a shower or a bath or something.

I’ll leave you alone.” He backed up a couple steps. He could come
back for his dinner later, since it was on the same tray as Hunter’s.

“You don’t want to eat with me?” Hunter hadn’t turned.
“Oh, sure. I’ll eat with you. I just meant…”
“Oh,” Hunter huffed out a sigh that sounded like relief. “Yeah, I

do need to clean up.”

Daisy Harris

“I figured you did.” Steve retreated into the doorway between

their rooms. “I’ll be right on my side.” He wanted to make sure
Hunter knew he wasn’t leaving him alone.

“Yeah. I mean, I figured…”
“Just let me know when you’re ready,” Steve said. He wondered if

Hunter was going to turn around and share something about himself
or show some kind of weakness. Steve hadn’t realized until that
moment how much he preferred Hunter to be cold and steady. Things
were simpler when he could imagine Hunter didn’t have any feelings
to hurt.

“Thanks.” Hunter walked to the window and put a hand on the

glass. Then, looking a lot older than his twenty-one years, he took a
long swig of his scotch and stared out the window. “Just give me a
few minutes, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Steve said. And then he retreated into his room.

Pride and Politics

Chapter Four:

Florida

“God hates fags!” The protestors lined the street outside the hotel,

shaking their signs and chanting.

There was an equally large protest on the other side of the hotel,

this one rainbow colored and full of signs proclaiming Marriage
Equality Now!

Steve agreed with the latter sentiment and despised the former, but

he had to admit he really just wished he and Hunter could just get out
of the limo and go to their rooms in peace.

“We should circle for a little while and come back,” the driver

spoke through the divider. His name was Sabi, though he’d gone out
of his way to inform Hunter and Steve that Sabi was normally a girl’s
name and he wasn’t a girl.

“Sounds good,” Steve answered. Then he watched out the window

as the limo pulled away from the rest of the motorcade and took a
right.

Hunter observed the crowd dispassionately, his drink sweating in

a cupholder on the armrest, but his foot bouncing the tiniest fraction
to show he was pissed off.

Jacksonville, so far, had been a nightmare. Steve and Hunter had

been sequestered to the jet for the governor’s campaign staff rather
than the one the governor traveled in with his family. They’d waited
until last to board a limo from the airport. And now, they couldn’t get
out of the car for fear that it would stir up more protestors.

“Man, this sucks,” Steve stated the obvious.

Daisy Harris

Hunter didn’t answer, and it was for that reason that Steve could

tell the guy was well and truly furious.

“Do you want me to call and find out what the plan is? Maybe

they want us to skip this stop.”

“Whatever.” Hunter huffed out a frustrated sigh.
Steve pulled out his phone and punched in Natalie’s number. He

figured he’d be more likely to reach her than anyone higher up.

The phone picked up after a few rings. “Hey, Steve. What’s up?”

Natalie sounded harried.

“We want to know what the situation is with Hunter’s role in the

campaign. Is he still supposed to go to the fund-raiser this afternoon?”
The luncheon was being hosted by a group of the governor’s business
supporters. But Steve had no idea how any of those businesses felt
about the issue of gay rights.

“Hold on a sec. I haven’t heard that anything’s changed, but I’ll

check for you.” She put him on hold for a minute or so, during which
he wondered if he could ask the driver to pull over so he could stop
for coffee.

“Hey, Steve. The deal is Hunter’s off for the fund-raiser, but on

for the press conference after. I spoke to the hotel staff. You guys can
come in the staff entrance in the back if you don’t want to deal with
the protestors outside. Just wait a half hour.”

“Thank you so much.” Steve hung up the phone. “Looks like

you’ve got a pass on the fund-raiser. Want to grab lunch before we
check in?” He thumbed on his phone to a restaurant guide, trying to
find something Hunter wouldn’t look down his nose at.

“I need a blow job,” Hunter said.
“What?” Steve wondered if he’d heard wrong. The window

buzzed closed between the driver’s cab and their back section of the
limo. Poor Sabi. First saddled with a name normally given to girls,
and now being terrorized by Hunter Ford.

Pride and Politics

“Don’t look so shocked. I was just making conversation.” Hunter

crossed his ankle over his opposite knee, looking like the picture of
collected calm.

Steve thought about how to answer, but decided to play along.

“Well, in that case, I could use one, too. But since it isn’t going to
happen for either one of us, I suggest we figure out what to have for
lunch.”

Hunter shrugged, and then reached into the cooler set in the

armrest and grabbed a Coca-Cola. “The only decent restaurant in this
part of town is at the hotel.” He made a face. “Unless you want to eat
at Applebee’s.”

Steve would have been fine with a chain restaurant, but he knew

Hunter would be a pain in the ass about going, so he decided to wait.
“Fine. We’re clear to check into the hotel in a half hour.” He followed
Hunter’s lead and grabbed himself a club soda out of the cooler.
Then, figuring he didn’t need to be 100 percent sober for a couple
hours, he reached over for the decanter of scotch that seemed to be
standard issue on stretch limousines and poured himself half of a shot.

“So, which do you like better, giving or getting?” Hunter hid his

smirk behind his sunglasses, but that didn’t stop Steve noticing he
was back to talking about sex.

“Getting.” Steve poured some club soda over the alcohol and

added a handful of ice. “Doesn’t everyone?” Steve had a few gay
friends, but they tended to be like him—quiet and serious. They didn’t
talk about their sex lives much.

“What, are you kidding? Some guys love sucking cock.” He

leaned back in his seat and drank his Coke right out of the can.

Steve couldn’t control his curiosity. “How about you? What do

you like?” He was skirting a dangerous edge, Steve knew. His dick
plumped up in his slacks, but it wasn’t the erection that was causing
the problem.

Hunter was just so damn good-looking. It was easy not to notice

when he was being a jerk. But the guy was fucking beautiful. And

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Steve was getting the serious impression that Hunter wanted to sleep
with him. Perhaps it was that Hunter wanted to sleep with someone,
and Steve just happened to be there, but that didn’t stop Steve from
feeling unbelievably tempted.

“You should know by now—I’m a taker.” The words were

dickish, but Hunter’s smile was super hot. He raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe we could find some cute little bottom to blow us both.”

Club soda bubbled up Steve’s nose, and he coughed into his hand.

“No.” Steve laughed. He could just imagine it, he and Hunter picking
up some guy and driving around in the limo, getting serviced. The
image was so decadent and wrong that Steve almost wanted to do it.

He’d never done anything really crazy. Steve hadn’t even gone to

his own prom, much less had any sexual exploits on the way to and
from. He hadn’t known he was gay back then, only that he was
completely different, and had spent as much time as possible alone or
with his couple close friends.

During his one year at community college, he’d met a boy and

figured out he was gay. They’d had a wonderful time discovering sex
together. But it was never wild.

“Oh, you’re no fun.” Hunter rolled his eyes, and his smile was

more amused than sarcastic. “I guess you’ll just have to blow me,
then.”

Steve knew he was joking. He must have been joking. But that

didn’t stop Steve from getting hard as diamonds. “You know that
can’t happen.” Steve should have opened the divider, told Sabi—not a
girl—to drive them back to the hotel and drop the pair of them at the
staff entrance. But Steve couldn’t look away from Hunter’s lips, his
jaw, his ivory-white neck above the collar of his dress shirt.

Oh, God. What it would feel like to open that top button, and then

the next, and the next? Had Steve said he didn’t like giving head as
much as getting? He would suck Hunter down, he didn’t even care if
Hunter grabbed his ears and thrust.

Pride and Politics

He swallowed, trying to get his body and thoughts back under

control. “Not possible, Hunter.”

“But you want to, right?” Something shifted in Hunter’s

expression, his mouth got looser. He took off his sunglasses and
rubbed his eyes. “Listen…”

Steve might have fallen over, he was so surprised by Hunter’s

moment of letting down his guard.

“It’s normal for people to hook up on the campaign trail. It’s

stressful as shit, and after the morning we’ve had, I want to fuck
someone through a wall.” Hunter let out a long breath. Then he lifted
his glass—the one filled with alcohol—and took another sip. He
stared out the window at the Florida suburbs streaming by. “You’re
an okay-looking guy. So if you’re interested, let me know.”

“Okay-looking?” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He knew he

wasn’t gorgeous or anything, not like Hunter. “Wow, you’re a
charmer, aren’t you?” He wasn’t really offended.

Hunter huffed out a sound through his nose, like a laugh, but not

quite. “You may not have noticed, but I don’t normally have to be
charming.”

Steve lifted his glass Hunter’s direction. He had to admit, Hunter

was right.

“And you know I wouldn’t tell my uncle.”
Of that much, Steve was certain. Hunter was tough to read, but

Steve was getting the hang of his reasoning. “I’ll take that under
advisement.” Steve shifted in his seat, willing his dick to go down. It
was tempting. Really, really tempting to give in and get naked. But
Steve couldn’t be like Hunter—the constant hiding and lying and
being closed off from everyone.

In a different world, Steve would totally take Hunter up on the

offer. He’d undress Hunter slowly and kiss every inch of him. But
he’d want to tell people after. Maybe not everyone, but for sure his
sister. Steve had had to be careful with his lovers for so long. The

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next guy he took to bed, he wanted to be able to hold hands with in
public and take to breakfast the next morning.

* * * *

“We’re ready to go back to the hotel now,” Steve said through the

divider.

The driver didn’t answer, but took a sharp left.
Hunter refused to feel guilty for making the man uncomfortable. If

he drove town cars for a living, the fellow had obviously seen and
heard worse. At least from straight guys. How many straight men had
picked up hookers in the back of his car?

He downed the rest of his drink as he saw the hotel approaching.

The signs were still there, as well as the assholes waiting to shove
their opinions in Hunter’s face. He was just about to pour himself
another measure of liquor when the limo drove past the main entrance
and around to the back of the building.

“We’re going in a staff entrance.” Steve looked nervous. Which

was too bad. A second ago he’d looked horny and very fuckable.

Hunter knew he’d give in eventually. What he didn’t understand

was why Steve was putting up such a fight.

Steve must have felt something over the protestors—anger,

embarrassment, frustration. Why would he not want to work that out
with some hot, illicit sex?

It was a mystery.
“Fine.”
“You’re not mad at me about it, right?”
“No.” Hunter didn’t really care one way or the other if Steve

wanted to screw. It was just that he was pissed off and horny, and
Steve was there. He could have been anyone.

Hunter preferred to think of the men he slept with that way—as a

series of interchangeable body parts. It was easier and simpler that

Pride and Politics

way, and no one got hurt. He still felt like an idiot for having gotten
so attached to Brooks Price his sophomore year.

That had been a mistake.
“You know I can’t, Hunter. My job—”
“You think my uncle cares if we sleep together?” Hunter thought

about adding that his uncle may well have hired Steve specifically for
that purpose. To get Hunter on-campaign stud service so Hunter
wouldn’t be as likely to go out to get laid.

But Hunter kept that sentiment to himself.
“We should get out.” They’d stopped, and Steve gestured to the

door. It was closer to Hunter.

“Fine.” Hunter wasn’t going to ask again. If Steve wanted to be

frustrated for no reason, that wasn’t Hunter’s problem. “But I noticed
the hard-on, so don’t think you’re fooling anyone.” Hunter hitched his
sunglasses over his face before grabbing the handle and opening the
door.

The driver caught the door on Hunter’s push and pulled it the rest

of the way open. He must have sprinted around from his side. “Sir.”
He gave Hunter a half-bow, obviously milking him for a tip.

Hunter guessed he deserved something for all that extra driving

around. “Steve?” He nodded to Steve. They he jerked his head in the
driver’s direction, hoping Steve would take the hint and hand over a
couple twenties.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Steve must have understood, because he reached

in his pocket and pulled out a few crisp bills to pat into the driver’s
outstretched hand. Hunter didn’t see how much he’d given the guy,
because he turned away.

The loading dock was empty, without even the normal assortment

of smokers and staff members on break. Hunter figured they’d been
cleared out in preparation for his arrival, like so much riffraff being
swept off the streets.

It made Hunter sad that no one was there. Some of his best

memories had been from when he was younger and would sneak

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away from whatever adult had been put in charge of trying to watch
him. He’d hang out in the kitchens or laundry room or the staff
entrance, playing cards with old guys sitting on milk crates or begging
cigarettes from waitstaff on break.

The people who cooked, cleaned, and answered doors were far

enough under his family’s radar that they didn’t care how he acted
and didn’t know how they were supposed to treat him. They might
have been the only people in his life who treated him like a normal
kid.

“Is someone going to meet us?” Hunter asked. The doors on this

side looked entirely locked.

“Yeah.” Steve handed Hunter his travel bag. Then Steve called

someone and muttered a few words into his phone. “Over there.” He
pointed to a door all the way on the north side of the building that
Hunter could now see was propped open. Steve’s arm was bare from
where his shirtsleeve was rolled up. His forearm was muscular and
covered with dark hair.

Hunter had never been attracted to a guy with any serious amount

of body hair. But on Steve it seemed right, sexy, even.

“I hope the room has a jetted tub.” Hunter hitched his carry-on

bag over his shoulder. He wished he and Steve could just stay back
here for a while, crouching on the steps and talking, maybe waiting
for the rest of the people who normally populated the desolate loading
dock to be told they could come back outside.

Steve would say something funny, and maybe Hunter would

smile. They’d wear T-shirts and sneakers. Hunter would laugh as loud
as he wanted to and not give a fuck who heard.

“I bet it does.” Steve patted his back quickly, as if he knew how

little Hunter wanted to go into that damn building.

“It better.” Hunter grabbed the handle and hauled open the

emergency door. He stepped into the hallway inside. “If not, I’m
going to check into a different fucking hotel.”

Pride and Politics

* * * *

The Grand Weathervane Seafarer had a different layout that the

hotels in Virginia and South Carolina, but was no less luxurious.
Where the previous hotels had been glass and mirrors, the
Weathervane was all wood-paneled rooms and alcoves. The check-in
area was a connected to a central foyer, which was one of the brighter
parts of the building. But every direction from there, the light seemed
to disappear into a hallway or a lounge.

It seemed like exactly the type of place where politicians might

have hushed conversations and make secret agreements. Though the
idea might have appealed to Steve when he first took the job with
Hunter, now the atmosphere felt sinister.

“Your room keys, sir.” The check-in girl handed Steve his and

Hunter’s key cards. The slick plastic seemed oddly out of keeping
with the old-fashioned décor of the hotel. It seemed as if she should
have given them keys instead.

“Ready?” Hunter headed toward the elevator well. It had marble

floors and the walls were covered in some kind of bronze metal finish,
polished bright enough to look gilded.

“Sure.” Steve came to stand next to him. The elevators were

slower at this hotel than at the last. Even though there were six of
them, the readers over each showed that they were all hovering
between the fourth and sixth floors.

“Bet they’re setting up for the fund-raiser.” The banquet hall was

on the fourth floor and most of the staff was booked on the fifth and
sixth. Steve just wished they would all get in the same couple
elevators. He was getting tired of waiting.

“Eh.” Hunter shrugged. The guy must have been tired as fuck,

since he didn’t have a snarky comment.

One of the elevators finally started descending to the ground floor,

and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

Daisy Harris

It landed and the door opened, revealing a girl and three guys, all

around Steve’s age or slightly older. One of them smiled, his eyes
widening in recognition.

“Is that you, Hunter? All grown up, huh?” He said it with a certain

lilt to his voice, almost a leer. And he got off the elevator last,
obviously trying to hang back behind his friends. “How’ve you been,
kid?”

Steve watched the other three staff members abandon their friend,

and wondered if he was supposed to hold on to the elevator. He
wedged his foot in the door and turned to Hunter. “Hey, you want me
to hold this?”

But Hunter didn’t answer. He’d frozen in place. His expression

was nothing like the cold, distant freeze-out that Steve had seen from
him in the past. No, he was paler than normal, and his lower lip
trembled like he was terrified.

“You okay?” Steve asked.
“What are you doing here?” Hunter asked the elevator guy. His

shoulders hunched forward, and he looked like he was floating there
in the hallway, like he needed something to lean against.

Steve let the elevator go and crossed two steps to Hunter’s side.

Hell, he would have put his arm around him if he’d thought for a
second Hunter would let him. It was obvious that Hunter was upset as
shit, and the guy who’d upset him was just watching, his eyes
sparkling like he thought the whole thing was funny.

“I’m Chase’s press secretary. I’ve been laying down groundwork

in D.C., but I should be around for the rest of the tour.” The guy was
taller than Hunter or Steve, broad through the shoulders. But he had a
weak chin and small eyes and the belligerent expression of a lifelong
bully. “So we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

“Not likely.” Hunter seemed to be regaining his confidence. Still,

he stepped partway behind Steve. Maybe he was trying to give the
impression Steve was his bodyguard. “Oh, and Jed, this is Steve. He’s

Pride and Politics

my handler for the campaign. If you need anything from me, just let
him know.”

Steve crossed his arms. He wasn’t as wide as this Jed guy, but he

knew how to cop a tough attitude. And yeah, acting like Hunter’s
manservant wasn’t part of his job description any more than fucking
Hunter was. But for some reason, Steve didn’t mind. He’d have been
more than willing to kick this guy to the curb for Hunter.

“I’ll do that, Hun.” Jed stepped around Steve to walk past. But as

he did, he gave Hunter a little shove in the arm, as if he were an older
brother or a buddy. But Steve could tell from the way Hunter flinched
that Jed was anything but a friend.

“Fuck.” Hunter reached past Steve to press the elevator button. He

stabbed it repeatedly until one showed up. It was as if the building
itself knew that Hunter was pissed and was doing its best to hurry on
his account. “Fuck, I cannot believe my uncle.” Hunter stepped inside
and was pressing their floor’s button before Steve even got on.

“What? That he hired him?” Steve jerked his thumb in the

direction of the door, making it clear that he meant Jed. He was pretty
sure it wasn’t a good idea to say the name aloud.

“Yes, fucking him. I’m going to kill my uncle. I’m going to quit.

Shit, I didn’t agree to this.” Hunter’s hand was shaking as he reached
into his bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. With fumbling
fingers, he positioned one on his lips.

To Steve’s horror, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked

it on.

“Shit.” Steve snatched the lighter out of Hunter’s hand. “You

can’t light that in here.” He gestured at the elevator around them.
“There’s gonna be a smoke detector. What? You want to get us stuck
in this box and the whole building evacuated?”

Hunter shoved Steve and then reached down for his lighter. “Fine.

I’ll wait until I get to the room.”

Daisy Harris

Steve grabbed the cigarette out of Hunter’s lips, and folded it into

his pocket. “It’s a nonsmoking room. How about you try something
crazy—tell me what the fuck is wrong.”

“No.” Hunter’s mouth was a hard line. He clenched and

unclenched his hand like he couldn’t figure out what to do with it.

“Well, then what are you going to do? Freak out and leave again?

Go on a bender?”

“No. I wasn’t planning to do any of those things.” Hunter seemed

to be getting himself back under control. He lifted his chin and
chewed on his bottom lip as though he were thinking about
something.

“Then what are you going to do?” Steve asked, starting to worry.

Hunter was such a live wire—Steve never knew what the guy would
do. And unfortunately, Steve was starting to like him enough that he
didn’t want to see Hunter hurt himself.

“This.” Hunter dropped the bag he was holding, and with a quick

step across the elevator, he pushed Steve into the wall. There was a
split second of hesitation where he looked into Steve’s eyes with a
desperate expression. Then he slanted his mouth over Steve’s, sucking
his lips in a hard kiss.

Hunter clutched at his arms, scrabbled his touch over Steve’s

chest. He palmed Steve’s hips and between his legs. He was all need
and heat, but he kissed in complete silence, as if daring Steve to gasp.

Despite his lack of finesse, Hunter was amazing in that moment,

like a wild ball of fire where before he’d been ice. Seeing all that
feeling released broke something in Steve, shifted something he
didn’t think would ever shift between him and Hunter.

He wanted to be on the receiving end of Hunter’s passion.

Because he was pretty sure no one else in the world got to experience
it.

“Hey. S’okay.” Steve petted the back of his neck, trying to slow

him down, to get the kiss to something besides a hard onslaught of
teeth and tongue. He turned his head, giving Hunter his neck, and

Pride and Politics

said, “It’s cool, okay. Just…okay, yes. Let us get off the elevator first,
though.”

Steve couldn’t say no to him, not when Hunter was like this—lost

and needing something so badly maybe he’d break without it. He
knew they would have to talk things through later. But for now,
Hunter could take comfort in his body. Steve couldn’t think of
anything he’d rather give him.

“We’re almost there.” Steve closed his eyes and let out a groan.

Hunter had closed his hand over his cock through his pants and was
rubbing him in long, smooth strokes.

The elevator dinged to a stop, and Hunter jerked away like a

puppet yanked on its strings. For once, he looked disheveled, his
pants creased around an obvious erection and his hair mussed from
Steve’s attempts to slow him down.

Steve didn’t wait for him to get off the elevator first. He took

Hunter’s hand and led him down the hall. The directions were simple
in this hotel and he found their rooms without a problem.

Hunter pressed a hand into Steve’s pocket while Steve unlocked

the door. He grabbed Steve’s cock, rubbing and stroking it before
Steve could even open the door.

“C’mon, guy.” Steve caught Hunter by the wrist and pulled him

into the room. He barely had time to take in the layout—a large room
with a couch and television, leading to a smaller room with a king-
sized bed—before Hunter was climbing under his clothes.

Hunter yanked Steve’s shirt out of his pants and shoved his hands

up to score Steve’s chest. He wound behind Steve to more easily get
at Steve’s buttons, kissing his neck the whole time. Hunter was
frantic, almost to the point of seeming inexperienced.

Steve smiled and leaned back into his chest. It felt like being in

the eye of the storm—having Hunter’s excitement all around him.

That was, until Hunter nipped his neck a little too hard.
“Ow.” Steve laughed, turning around so he could make sure

Hunter didn’t bite him again. He was pretty sure it had been

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accidental. “Let me get you undressed, okay?” Steve worked at
Hunter’s buttons and then his belt.

Hunter nodded, as if he couldn’t even force out a word. He rubbed

his forehead on Steve’s shoulder.

“Okay.” Steve shoved the shirt off Hunter’s shoulders. Then he

worked open Hunter’s pants. The damp silkiness of Hunter’s cock
brushed against the back of his hand, and Steve thought he felt Hunter
take a breath.

“What do you want?” Steve kissed Hunter quickly, just a brush of

mouths to let him know Steve wanted a chance to take the lead. He
palmed Hunter’s dick. God—he felt good. Hard and hot, and like his
cock was quivering with as much life as Hunter was. “Hand job?
What you were talking about before?”

“I don’t normally like to suck guys off,” Hunter whispered into

Steve’s shoulders. With quick moves, Hunter got out Steve’s cock
and gave it an almost-painful squeeze.

“That’s okay.” Steve put his own hand over Hunter’s, trying to

show him what he liked. In the meantime, he increased the pressure
on Hunter’s dick, figuring the guy must like it hard if that was what
he tried to dish out.

“I know.” Hunter bounced once on the balls of his feet. “But I sort

of want to today. You’re cool with that, right?”

Steve nodded against his cheek. They were still standing in the

living room portion of Hunter’s room, clinging to each other in the
empty space. “You want me to, also?” He felt a little spurt of pre-cum
in his hand, and Hunter bucked into his grip. Steve took that as a yes.

Hunter wrapped a hand behind Steve’s neck and dragged him

back into a lip lock. It felt like what Steve remembered from his
younger years—lots of enthusiasm without a whole lot of technique.
Then again, he figured Hunter hadn’t kissed all that many of his
casual partners.

Steve opened his mouth, letting Hunter satisfy whatever it was he

needed. The lips were hard and aggressive, and the tongue plunged in,

Pride and Politics

like Hunter was trying to reach some treasure at the other side. But
then, like some dam had broken, Hunter’s lips softened. His tongue
became more languorous.

And that’s when Steve kissed back.
He tilted his head and lapped into Hunter’s mouth. Hunter tasted

like alcohol and college kid. Steve urged them backwards, into the
bedroom section of the suite. He didn’t break the connection of their
bodies, their hands and their mouths. He fell backward onto the bed,
breaking Hunter’s fall as Hunter landed on top.

Almost immediately, Hunter started kissing his way down Steve’s

body. Not slowly or even seductively, but as if marking paces
between where he was and where he wanted to be.

In six or seven pecks, he was at Steve’s cock, and closing his

mouth around the head.

Oh, God, it was good. Even with the occasional swipe of teeth and

the inconsistent tempo, it felt amazing to have his dick in someone’s
mouth. “Turn around. Wanna do you, too.” He reached down to pat
Hunter’s head. His hair was rough with hair gel. He smelled so good
with his clothes off. The menthol sting of his deodorant heady and
overwhelming.

Hunter didn’t pull off, not really. He just twisted around on the

bed and lay on his side with his cock pointing at Steve’s mouth.

Steve wanted to savor the moment, maybe get a good look at it,

but Hunter pumped his hips forward impatiently. So Steve grabbed
him at the base. He only had a moment to notice that Hunter’s pubic
hair was as blond as the hair on his head before Hunter bucked hard
enough to smear pre-cum across Steve’s cheek like war paint.

Hunter did something amazing with his mouth, or his tongue, or

something, and Steve moaned aloud. And to his surprise Hunter
moaned back. It was a tiny noise, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear
it.

But Steve couldn’t wait to make him make that sound again.
He gripped Hunter hard and enclosed his dick in a firm swallow.

Daisy Harris

“Holy fuck.” Hunter breathed into Steve’s hip, working Steve’s

cock with his hand instead of his mouth. “God, you are so good.”

Steve pulled off long enough to smile. He wasn’t all that great,

really. But if Hunter was mostly getting blown by eighteen- and
nineteen-year-olds, he probably had a piss-poor basis of comparison.
“You close?” He fondled Hunter’s balls a little, wondering if he was
one of those guys who always wanted a finger or a dick up their ass
when they shot.

But Hunter’s thighs stayed resolutely clenched, so Steve figured

the answer was no.

“Yeah.” Hunter dove back onto Steve’s dick. He worked his hand

more than his mouth, which was probably for the best, because
Steve’s cum was climbing in his base and his dick was hypersensitive,
and he really didn’t want to get bitten.

Steve could tell Hunter was close in how those alabaster thighs

quivered and his fuzzy balls tightened closer to his body. He groaned
aloud, giving Hunter permission to make noise as he came. But
Hunter only made a sound like a sigh pushed out his nose, even
though his whole body shook.

Cum pulsed up the underside of Hunter’s dick the moment before

Hunter shot. Steve caught a taste of him as he pulled off. And as he
jacked Hunter through his climax, Steve stiffened in Hunter’s hand.

His cock felt like a million live nerve endings bursting to break

free, and for a second he wondered if he really trusted Hunter with
that.

But then Hunter reached down to pet Steve’s chest and neck. And

at that contact of knuckles to his skin, Steve let himself fall. He
arched, feeling his thighs and ass clench. And his cum shot into
Hunter’s mouth once before Hunter pulled off and stroked him the
rest of the way through his orgasm.

Steve was falling and falling, letting go of fucking everything as

he bucked and twisted into Hunter’s unyielding strokes.

Pride and Politics

He felt so relaxed he could have fallen asleep, but he had a hand

full of jizz and knew Hunter had the same. They were still half-
dressed and probably needed to get their clothes sent out due to cum
stains. “Hey. You need a tissue?” He looked around at the side tables
for a box.

A sniffle came from somewhere near his crotch.
“Hey.” Steve craned his head around to meet Hunter’s eyes. He

sat up. “You okay?”

Hunter’s cheeks were uncharacteristically pink and his eyes were

wet. He brushed them with the heel of his hand before pressing up to
sit. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “M’fine.” Then he snickered. “Got a mess
in my hand and on my chest. But other than needing a shower, I’m
cool.”

Steve didn’t believe it for a second. He grabbed some tissues and

handed them to Hunter. “Are you going to tell me who that guy Jed
was now?” One time was fine. He could share an orgasm with Hunter
purely for comfort once, but Steve wasn’t going to put up with the
avoidance indefinitely. He figured he might as well find out now what
it was that had Hunter so upset.

“Fine.” Hunter rolled his eyes like it was no big deal and he had

no idea why Steve even cared. “Jed went to the same prep school as
me. He was a senior when I was in my last year of middle school, and
we have some history.”

“Uh-huh?” Steve folded into cross-legged and wiped off his hand

and his face. When Hunter shifted like he might get off the bed, Steve
grabbed his arm. “Seriously, man. Tell me.” He watched Hunter
carefully, not knowing if he was pushing too hard or not hard enough.

Hunter twisted his lips into a pensive expression. Then in a rush,

he said, “He had a crush on me, I told him no. He pushed it, I told my
dad and my uncle. They both said I should wait it out for the rest of
the year, since his grandfather was a Joint Chief of Staff. But they
promised that after that year, I would never have to deal with him
again.”

Daisy Harris

He held very still, like he was listening for Steve’s judgment or

disagreement. But Steve only asked, “And did you? Have to deal with
him before today?”

“No.” Hunter got off the bed and pulled up his underwear. He

dragged on his pants. “I haven’t seen him since.”

Steve could tell Hunter felt badly about the whole thing, as if he’d

somehow failed by asking his family to defend him. “And did things
get…I mean, did he…” Shit, this was personal, and he shouldn’t be
asking, but Steve had to know…

“He never fucked me, if that’s what you mean.” Hunter went into

the bathroom to wash his face. When he came back, his face wet, his
expression was serious like he was going to say something important.
“Hey, listen…”

Steve tensed.
“I’m fucking starving. D’you think we could order some burgers

for lunch?”

“Um. Yeah, I guess.” Steve looked around the room, seeing much

of it for the first time.

He thought about asking more about Hunter’s history, but figured

there was no use. Hunter had already retreated into the living room to
unpack his stuff.

“Thanks, by the way. I really needed that.” The way Hunter said

it, he could have been thanking Steve for getting him a beer.

Still, Hunter didn’t thank anyone for anything very often, so Steve

took it as a compliment. “No worries.” He rolled off the bed, fastened
his pants, and picked up the room-service menu. “Do you want bacon
and cheese?”

“Ew.” Hunter’s voice held a smile and a laugh.
Steve was proud for having put them there. “Hey, some of us like

bacon.”

“Well, I’ll have mine plain. And a side salad.”
“Your wish is my command.” Steve only just stopped himself

from adding sir at the end.

Pride and Politics

Hunter chuckled. It was short and sharp, but louder than any laugh

Steve had heard from him before. Grinning despite himself, he picked
up the phone and hitched it under his ear to dial.

* * * *

The press conference was a lot more tolerable knowing he’d get

some action afterward. Hunter wore the clothes Steve set out—
enjoying the thought that Steve might take them off him later—and
sat patiently while the girl tried to make him look as nonthreatening
as possible.

Someday, if he could ever escape this, Hunter was getting a tattoo.

On his face.

“You should be good to go.” The makeup girl stepped away,

putting down her brush. She was different from the one the night
before, and frowned as if she didn’t like him.

Or maybe she was just a naturally sour person.
Hunter nodded and pushed out of the chair.
Steve stood outside the lighted area where the family and top staff

were getting their hair and faces done. He was talking to some woman
from the staff, but when he saw Hunter stand up, he looked over.

For a second, Hunter thought he would give something away by

smiling or waving. But apparently Steve was learning the ropes,
because he just smirked and went back to his conversation.

Hunter snickered under his breath.
He walked past, glancing quickly over Steve’s body as he did.

Hunter never would have guessed how sexy Steve was under his
clothes. He was filled out in a way that the younger guys Hunter
normally hooked up with weren’t. And the body hair—which Hunter
had thought would be a turnoff—was actually really nice. It felt
scraggly, but also cuddly. Hunter had wanted to climb right up against
his chest or into the crook of his arm.

Daisy Harris

Which was weird, because Hunter never wanted to do shit like

that. He hardly ever kissed his hookups, and he certainly didn’t
cuddle. Yeah, a lot of them wanted to—but it always felt like they
were trying to take something from him.

Steve, however, wasn’t the taking type. He was thoughtful and

nice, kind almost to a fault, and he gave off this aura—like he was
stronger than most people.

Hunter was still surprised he’d wanted to go down on Steve.

Normally, he didn’t trust his hookups enough to performing that act.
But Steve was different. It was impossible not to trust the guy.

And Hunter wanted to trust him. A least a little.
“Hey, Hun.”
Hunter let out a frustrated growl and looked over his shoulder to

see Jed walking his direction. He’d had time to get over the initial
shock of seeing him again after all these years. So he didn’t feel like
he was going to piss his pants like he had when he’d seen him in the
hallway. But he still didn’t want to have to deal with the guy. “Jed.”

He would not look for Steve… Hunter forced his attention to stay

on his phone, on the floor, on the room around him. Looking Steve’s
direction would be a tell that might lose Steve his job. Or at the very
least alert Jed to the fact that Hunter was involved with him.

“How’ve you been?” Jed leaned against a tall speaker, crowding

Hunter’s personal space. His words were friendly, but his posture was
aggressive.

“Better since Brockston.” Actually, he’d been better since Jed left

Brockston Academy. Sure, he’d been teased in high school about
being gay, but mostly under kids’ breath. At least he wasn’t getting
harassed on a regular basis once Jed left.

“Wish I could say the same.” Jed leaned in closer. “Y’know your

dad turned me down for two different positions? Thanks for that,
Hun.” His spittle landed on Hunter’s ear. “Glad your uncle finally saw
sense.”

Pride and Politics

Hunter forced his breathing to be steady. His pulse was

hammering in his chest and his throat. It wasn’t just the direct
accusation making him feel like a scared fourteen-year-old again. It
was Jed’s nearness. He still stank like old meat and sweaty socks.
Hunter felt like he was in that shower again, being pressed up against
the cold tile, his wet hair dragging against the porcelain as Jed forced
him to his knees.

“So, you out yet?” Hunter figured offense was his best defense.
“Out where?” Jed backed off several inches. He chuckled, as if he

were trying to sound mean but might have been nervous.

Hunter swallowed, trying to force his heartbeat out of his throat.

“Out as gay. You moron.” God, those last words felt good. They
almost reminded Hunter that he was a grown man now, and not that
much smaller than Jed.

“I’m engaged, dipshit.” Jed rolled his eyes. “I’m not gay, Hun.

That was all your fantasy.”

Hunter looked away, blinking hard not to let his eyes get wet.

Fuck Jed for bringing that up. That was the same thing his dad had
said, and his uncle, too. They’d both told him he was imagining the
way Jed was always trying to grab him or rub up against him. Push
him into closets and grab his dick through his clothes.

It was just adolescent horsing around, they’d said, and the only

reason Hunter saw it as sexual was because Hunter was gay.

“In your sick and lonely dreams, Jed.”
On stage, one of the aides got up to give some opening remarks.

And to Hunter’s relief, Steve wandered over to stand by his side.

Steve leaned in to talk in Hunter’s ear. “He bothering you?” His

breath was minty and he smelled clean from their showers earlier.

Hunter waited for Jed to leave before answering. He wanted to say

no, but his insides felt ripped to shreds. He had a stomachache that
felt like broken glass, and his eyes hurt so badly his head ached.
Hunter would have bailed out and claimed to be sick, but the stage
manager was already lining up the family.

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“Yeah,” Hunter answered. “But I fucking hate him.” He never

admitted hating anyone. Or anything, for that matter. Hate was an
emotion, and those were best kept under lock and key.

“What do you need?” Steve asked.
God. Hunter wanted to grab his hand. Kiss him, fuck him. Drink,

smoke, screw, run a hundred miles. But instead, Hunter just looked
straight ahead as he said, “Your ass, tonight.”

Steve snickered but didn’t say no. And that gentle laughter took

the edge off Hunter’s nerves enough that when his cousin waved him
over to get in line, Hunter managed to do it without bursting into
tears.

* * * *

Hunter’s expression was brittle. Even on the gritty live feed, Steve

could tell he was struggling to hold it together on stage. Hunter went
through the same series of smiles, angles, and postures as he’d done
the night before, but each seemed to take more effort. There were
lines of tension around his mouth.

Steve wished he could kiss those away. He looked around for

Natalie but didn’t see her among the jostling campaign staff and TV
crew. Steve needed to deal with Jed. This shit with Hunter simply
couldn’t continue. Whatever had happened, Hunter was obviously
still upset about it, and it was unfair for Chase to expect the guy to
smile and wave through two more weeks of fund-raisers and press
conferences with his abuser mulling around backstage.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Steve pulled it out to check

the name on the screen. It was a text from his sister.

Hey, big brother. Got time for video?
He left his spot behind the curtains and walked farther backstage.

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving altogether. So when he found an
unoccupied chair near the snack table, he sat.

No, sorry. What do you need?

Pride and Politics

Nothing. Just wanted to show you to my boyfriend.
What??
He stared at the phone like it was about to explode.
You’re too young to have a boyfriend.
Sure, she could call him overprotective, but…
Stop being stupid. I’m eighteen.
Steve shook his head. This was not happening. He never should

have agreed to let her go away to college. She could get hurt.

Just look at Hunter. His family had sent him away to school, and

what had happened? He’d gotten molested by some Neanderthal.

Is he normal hearing?
Maybe it would be okay if she were seeing another deaf student.

Steve wouldn’t feel like she was at a disadvantage.

What does that matter???
Steve growled out a breath. She knew perfectly well why he was

asking.

What, you think he can’t really like me if he’s normal

hearing??????

Fuck, now she was building up a head of steam. Steve wished he

could go back to his room and get on the computer. If they were video
chatting he could explain himself better, make her understand.

You don’t know. Boys want things…
You mean sex?
Oh, God. Steve had never wished harder that his mother were still

alive. He was completely not prepared to handle this conversation.

Yes, sex. And if you’re not ready…
What if I am ready?
Steve scrubbed at his face. He was smoother than normal, having

shaved right before he left his room. But sometimes it felt like his
beard grew faster when he was stressed.

I want to meet this guy.
He hit send on the text, hoping she’d understand the subtext.

Namely, “Don’t sleep with him before I check him out.”

Daisy Harris

That’s why I messaged you. GEEZ!
Steve pinched his lip against his frown.
We can message tomorrow, but I want to meet him in person.
He was asking a lot, but this was his sister’s first boyfriend.
You’re not home until the 25

, right?

Yeah, I guess video chat is our best bet. Tomorrow?
Cory can’t do tomorrow. Day after?
Steve thought about their schedule. He also thought about the

name—Cory. At least the guy sounded non-threatening. Like a five-
foot-seven weakling Steve could beat the crap out of if he got out of
line.

The sooner they had this video chat, the better, but they were

booked solid for the next few days.

Probably not for a few days. I’ll text you beforehand.
He clicked shut the conversation just in time to hear applause

swell in the auditorium.

Staff rushed by, and Steve wound his way toward the stage’s exit.

He’d been right there when Hunter got offstage the previous press
conference and wasn’t sure if he’d be able to track him down if he
didn’t catch him soon.

Of course, Hunter would probably just go up to their rooms, but

with the haunted look on his face during the question and answer
session, Steve wouldn’t have put it past him to walk straight out of the
hotel.

He craned his head over the throng of staff, looking for a familiar

shock of blond hair. Steve palmed Hunter’s sunglasses in his pocket,
itching to hand them to Hunter so he could hide.

Steve spotted Hunter making a beeline towards the doors, with

fucking Jed dogging his side, so he dodged a few members of the TV
crew and nearly shoved a congressional aide that got in his way. Then
he jogged to catch up, reaching the door right after it had closed
behind Hunter and Jed.

Pride and Politics

He dragged it open to find Jed gripping Hunter’s arm, trying to

back him into the wall.

“There you are.” Hunter flung away Jed’s arm, breaking his hold.

He glared at Steve. “I’ve been looking all over. Where the fuck did
you go?”

Steve looked from Hunter to Jed, then back. He couldn’t be angry

with Hunter for lashing out. He knew the guy was stressed as fuck. “I
got a message I had to take.” Then, before Hunter could scold him
some more, Steve turned to Jed. “Do you need something?”

Jed crossed his arms. He studied Steve for a long moment, and

Steve had a strong suspicion Jed was trying to decide if Steve was
gay. “No. We’re done.” Jed spun and headed into the backstage area.

“You wanna head up to the room?” Steve pulled out Hunter’s

sunglasses and held them out. It was fairly dark in the hallway, but as
Steve suspected he would, Hunter shoved them on his face anyway.

“No. I need a smoke.” Hunter strode through the hotel’s hallways,

in the opposite direction from the elevators.

Steve could tell by the angle of his jaw that he was pissed as hell.
“I thought you’d left,” Hunter said as he got to the main doorway.

He didn’t add anything, but he didn’t have to. A teardrop rolled out
from under the sunglasses’ edge as the bellhop opened his door.

“Aw, man, Hunter. I’m sorry. I got a text from my sister. I…”

Steve knew it didn’t matter why he hadn’t been there. Hunter was hurt
either way. So he just said again, “I’m sorry,” and followed Hunter
outside to the brightly lit valet area.

“Listen, I need to be alone for a second. D’you mind?” Hunter

reached into his pocket, fishing out a crumpled pack.

“Oh. Um…no.” Steve pulled away. He should have told Hunter

not to smoke. It was bad for his health, as well as his image. And it
wasn’t like Hunter was addicted to the nicotine. He’d go days without
smoking unless something pissed him off.

Daisy Harris

But Steve couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Hunter

deserved his moment of rebellion, no matter how small and seemingly
petty. “See you upstairs in a bit?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” Hunter shrugged. “I’ll be right up.”

* * * *

One gay bar. That was all there was close to the hotel. But Hunter

figured it was enough to find some guy to scratch his itch.

Fucking Steve. Taking a fucking text message when Hunter

fucking needed him…

Hunter never should have expected him to be there.
He kept his sunglasses on as he stared across to the meager dance

floor. It was tiny, with a few colored lights flickering dimly over the
faces of the guys brave, or desperate, enough to dance.

Well, that was okay. Desperate was exactly what Hunter was

looking for.

“Hey.” A guy who looked around Hunter’s age sidled up next to

him at the bar. He had problem skin and a tongue piercing. But on the
upside he was skinny and hairless and in no way reminded Hunter of
Steve.

“Hey.” Hunter finished his drink in one shot and knocked on the

bar for a second. He didn’t bother looking the kid’s way. For one
thing, it didn’t matter who the guy was. For a second, a lot of guys
loved being ignored. Hunter was only looking for that kind of man
tonight.

“You’re not from around here, huh?” The guy bounced a little in

time with the music. It was a techno mix from about ten years earlier.

“How’d you guess?” Hunter asked sarcastically.
“Dick.” The guy laughed, obviously more impressed by Hunter

acting like an asshole than he was put off.

Yeah, this one’ll do.

Pride and Politics

“If you ask real nice.” Hunter lifted his fresh drink to his lips, took

a suggestive sip.

“Ooh.” The guy swerved around to partway in front of him. He

got close enough that Hunter could smell the sweat and Axe body
spray on his skin and feel the guy’s erection poking his thigh. He
leaned into Hunter’s ear. “Yes, Master.”

Hunter rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. God, save him from

overeager subs. “None of that, okay.” Hunter had never been into that
scene. It was too obvious and straightforward for his taste. Not to
mention it pushed some of his buttons about what had happened with
Jed.

But no matter what Hunter did, he always seemed to attract the

type of guy who wanted to be pushed around. Needy types who pulled
out the worst in him. So much that on occasion he’d wondered
whether he was acting like Jed had—taking advantage of guys weaker
than him.

Except Steve wasn’t weaker. Steve was tough enough that Hunter

might be able to give up control a little, let someone else be in charge
for once. And if Steve ever wanted the kind of bossy treatment Hunter
had dished out in the past, it would be completely different than it
have been with other guys. Hunter could be a man with him instead of
a bully.

He was not thinking of Steve. Was. Not.
“Um…okay.” The guy backed off a little, but still clung to his

side.

Shit, thinking of Steve, even without meaning to, was really

getting in the way of Hunter’s game. He couldn’t think of what to say
next. Hunter wished he could just tell the kid to get down on his knees
and suck him off. Make him forget men with furry chests and deep
voices, who stood between him and the things Hunter couldn’t deal
with.

“You want to go outside?” the guy asked.

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Hunter could tell he was losing interest. Maybe he wanted

someone who could give him more attention than Hunter could
muster. “Yeah,” he said absentmindedly. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The guy grinned. He held out his hand. “By the way, I’m—”
“I don’t really need to know.” Hunter walked past him, heading to

the exit door. He didn’t even care if the other guy followed.

* * * *

Steve’s cab pulled up in front of the bar. He gave the driver cash

as he got out and cursed that he was still wearing the clothes he’d
worn all day. The dress shirt and pants weren’t exactly club wear.

Of course, Hunter would be wearing the same thing he had at the

press conference. Steve would kill him if he’d ruined his new Hugo
Boss.

There hadn’t been a phone call this time. Probably because Steve

had left Hunter outside…like an idiot.

The night was thick with humidity and the air outside the club

reeked of beer and cigarettes. The sign blinked J-son’s, one letter
broken. Steve wondered whether Hunter was even there.

There was a bouncer at the door, so Steve pulled out his wallet.

But as he walked toward the entrance, his attention went down the
alley next to the building, to the bright blond hair he could just make
out over the top of a dumpster.

Fuck, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no.
Steve’s heart leapt into his throat, but it had nothing to do with the

campaign. It had everything to do with the thought of some guy on his
knees taking what was his.

He strode into that alley, ready to kick the shit out of whomever

Hunter had at his feet. Ready to grab Hunter and haul him back to the
hotel and force him to talk to Steve instead of running off to deal with
his stress all alone. “What the fuck do you think—?”

Pride and Politics

Hunter stared at him, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, but

blessedly by himself. He watched Steve through his sunglasses, the
dark lenses blocking his expression.

He’s just smoking. Steve scanned his clothes, looking for a stain

or some crumpled sign that Hunter had hooked up with someone
already. He didn’t see anything, not even the normal amount of wear
one would expect. But that didn’t mean anything. Hunter could have
already gotten off.

And that was fucking not okay. Steve folded onto his knees. The

hard concrete scraped under his dress pants, but he didn’t care. It felt
like the way Hunter had touched him in the elevator, too hard and too
rough. Steve pulled Hunter’s belt from its hooks and ripped open his
pants.

Hunter’s hand went to Steve’s hair. And to Steve’s surprise, he

didn’t scrape or scratch. He just combed his fingers through.

His cock was already hard when Steve pulled it out. It was damp

at the tip, but nowhere else. More proof no one had been in Hunter’s
pants but Steve.

He closed his mouth around Hunter’s length. Tasted pre-cum

hitting the back of his throat. Hunter was hard and thick in his mouth,
and he pumped forward, giving Steve more.

Steve moaned around the heat of it. God, this was so good. He

couldn’t imagine wanting anything else, didn’t know why he ever
had. Steve gripped Hunter around the base, wrenched him tightly,
sucked hard.

Hunter rewarded him with a huff of breath, the tiniest hint of a

moan. Just that much made Steve so hard he thought he might have
shot if his pants were tighter, or if he could balance with his hand on
his dick.

The cock in his mouth throbbed and grew bigger and harder. Yes.

He can’t have come just now. Can’t. He wouldn’t be so ready to blow
so fast. Steve opened his throat and took him all the way to the back,
swallowing around Hunter’s cap, stroking up behind his balls.

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And though Hunter didn’t make a sound, he shivered. And he

filled Steve’s mouth with cum.

Steve swallowed it all, milking until Hunter was completely soft.

He wanted to stay the way they were, where everything was simple.
Where there was him and Hunter and nothing and no one else. But
Hunter touched Steve’s face, then his shoulder. He hooked a hand
under his arm, pulling Steve up.

“Hey.” Hunter was still wearing his sunglasses. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Steve nodded. Shit. He had no idea what he’d just done.

Everything between when he’d seen Hunter in the alley until right
then was a blur. Before he could stop himself, he said, “You didn’t,
right? Tell me you didn’t.” He couldn’t even say the words out loud.
That would make it a possibility.

“No.” Hunter’s voice was steady. “I didn’t hook up with anyone

but you.”

Steve felt something in his chest click into place. Okay. Things

were okay in the world. “Oh.” Steve straightened up, tried to put his
universe back together, to regain some semblance of the authority that
he’d thought he had over Hunter once upon a time. “Um, well. Do
you want to head back to the hotel?”

Hunter laughed, but it was sarcastic. “Is that a serious question?”
“Fine.” When it came down to it, Steve didn’t want to go back

either. It was a sad commentary on his job that the piss-smelling alley
seemed like a more comfortable place to hang out than their five-star
hotel. “You wanna go back inside?”

“Really?” Hunter looked at the door to the bar skeptically. “It’s

about the worst gay bar I’ve ever been to.”

Steve laughed. “Sounds like fun.”
Hunter snorted, smiling behind his sunglasses. “Hey.” He reached

for Steve’s pants, palming him through the cotton. “You want me to
return the favor?”

“Nah.” Steve urged Hunter’s hand away. He was turned on, but

kind of liked the feeling. “I’m not letting you ruin those pants.” Steve

Pride and Politics

had probably scuffed his own knees, but that was no big deal. His suit
had cost a fraction of what Hunter’s had.

“Always the pragmatist.” Hunter took off his sunglasses and

slipped them into his pocket. He reached back to the door, which was
propped open with a crushed beer can, and led the way inside.

Steve followed Hunter over to the bar, and when Hunter ordered a

greyhound, Steve asked for the same. The music was bad and the
dance floor all but empty. But it was one thirty in the morning on a
Tuesday, so it was unsurprising.

“Listen…” Steve leaned into Hunter’s side. “I’ve been wanting to

talk to you about—”

“You want to dance?” Hunter asked. He shouted over the music,

pretending not to have heard Steve. But that was okay, because Steve
smelled Hunter’s skin under his clothes, felt how nice it was to be
close at his side. They could talk later.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve reached slowly down, easing his way toward

Hunter’s hand. And to his amazement, Hunter didn’t pull away.

Hunter widened his fingers, letting Steve clasp their palms

together. Then Hunter led Steve onto the little dance floor. The lights
were flashing, and Hunter closed his eyes. He looked beautiful when
he did that, his skin shining above his white collar.

Steve pressed a kiss on his neck, and sank into his arms.

Daisy Harris

Chapter Five:

Ohio

Hunter scanned through the numbers on his phone. His hand was

still shaking slightly from the fund-raising dinner he’d just been to in
which Jed had gone out of his way to stand directly behind Hunter at
every possible opportunity. The guy was such an asshole, but at least
seeing him again made Hunter realize something—intimidation was
no joke.

That, and Hunter owed a couple people an apology.
He clicked onto Brooks Price’s phone number and saw Brooks’

face pop up on his phone screen. Man, the guy probably didn’t want
to hear from him, but Hunter needed to at least try.

He double-checked that the doors to his and Steve’s suites were

dead bolted, so if Steve came back early from helping the other staff
clean up from the press conference, he wouldn’t be able to walk right
in.

Then Hunter hit Send on the call.
It rang a few times, long enough that Hunter started hoping it

would go to voice mail, but then Brooks picked up.

“Hunter Ford? Wow. Never thought I’d see you on my caller ID

again.” Brooks sounded less angry than Hunter would have expected.
After all, he had demanded that Hunter never talk to him again only
six months earlier.

If anything, Brooks sounded amused he’d called.
“Yeah, well…I wanted to see how you were doing. You liking

your new job?” Hunter wasn’t ready to launch directly into what he’d

Pride and Politics

called about. He didn’t want Brooks to think he was in a twelve-step
program where he had to call every person he’d wronged.

“Yeah. Hours suck ass, but you know me—I like to be busy. Wish

I had more time for my fiancé, though.”

Hunter blinked, wondering what Brooks was talking about.

“You’re straight now?” Considering Brooks had slept with practically
every gay man at Holsum College, Hunter would have been extremely
surprised to find out that the guy secretly liked girls.

“No, man. Me and Matt. We’re getting married next spring.”

Brooks sounded as happy as Hunter had ever heard. Hunter never
would have pegged Brooks as the settling-down type, but monogamy
appeared to be agreeing with him.

“Wow. Congratulations.” Hunter wasn’t sure what else to say. He

felt even guiltier for the way he’d tried to break Brooks and Matt up,
though. Apparently, the guys really had been in love.

“Yeah. And I know my mom’s gonna insist on sending you a

wedding invite. You don’t have to come, though—it’s cool.”

Hunter frowned. “You’d still invite me to your wedding after all

the shit I did to you?” Brooks must have changed a lot since dating
Matt to suddenly be so forgiving. Then again, Hunter had never
known Brooks to carry a grudge for long. He was too pleasure
seeking to waste much energy being angry.

“Why not? I’m sure Matt’ll be all pissy if you come, but if it

weren’t for you, I never would have asked him out in the first place.”
He paused to let out a chuckle. “And my mom’s inviting, like, 500
people. It’s not exactly an intimate gathering.”

“I can imagine.” He’d met Brooks’ mother once at a parents’ day

at school. She’d been quite the social butterfly.

Still, Hunter bit his lip, feeling like shit about how he’d acted,

especially in light of how cool Brooks was being about it. “Listen. I
know it’s corny, but I called to say I…Well, I shouldn’t have pushed
you around like that last year. It wasn’t cool.” He took a calming

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breath. “I liked you, y’know. Had a crush, or whatever, and I just
didn’t really know what to do about it. I’m sorry.”

There was a long moment of silence where Hunter’s words

seemed to fill the hotel room, making him feel like a total idiot.
“Brooks?”

On the other end of the line, Brooks cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “Thought I was gonna die of shock there for a minute.”

“Yeah.” Hunter wandered over to the setup of sparkling water and

glasses on the table and poured himself something to drink. He hadn’t
really planned on an exit strategy for the phone call, and he wondered
what came next.

“Y’know, if you want to come to the wedding, I’d be completely

cool with it. Seriously, water under the bridge.”

Hunter smiled, feeling lighter already. This admitting when you

were wrong shit wasn’t so bad after all. “Let me look at my schedule.
I look forward to getting the invite, though.”

“Cool,” Brooks said. “Listen, I gotta run. I’ve got a class for my

MBA program tonight.”

“Yeah, fine. It was nice talking to you.” Hunter smiled as they

said their good-byes. Then he checked the time, making sure he had
another fifteen minutes before Steve was scheduled to come back,
before making his second call.

This one he wasn’t sure about…He’d barely known the kid who

was blowing him all through the end of the school year and into the
start of the summer. Tyler and he were never friends. Not like he was
with Brooks. But Hunter was on a roll, and he didn’t have any
lingering guilt about anyone besides Tyler.

So he set his drink down on the side table and settled onto his bed

to call.

Tyler picked up on the first ring. He answered the phone with a

worried, “Omigod, what’s wrong?”

Hunter cocked his eyebrows, though he knew Tyler couldn’t see

it. “Nothing, kid. Can’t I call you?”

Pride and Politics

“Um…” Tyler’s voice was just like Hunter remembered it—light

and melodic. Not feminine, but definitely with a breezy lilt. “I guess
you can. But you didn’t text first, so I was surprised. Most people text
before they call.”

Hunter shrugged. Yeah, he guessed Tyler was right. Plus, Hunter

didn’t think he’d ever called Tyler before. “Well, I didn’t mean to
alarm you.”

“Oh, no worries. What’s up?” Tyler had gone from panicked

sounding to carefree in the blink of an eye.

“Well, I just wanted to call to say I shouldn’t have jerked you

around this summer. That was pretty lame of me.” He rushed to get
out the apology and get off the phone. Hunter was feeling a little silly
for having called at all.

“Oh, no worries!” Tyler laughed. “We weren’t like even a thing.”
Hunter sat up higher, a little surprised. At the time they were

fooling around, it had seemed like Tyler was extremely into him. In
fact, Tyler’s adoration had bordered on obsessive. At least, that’s how
it had felt. “Okay, cool. I just worried…”

He didn’t know what he’d worried, maybe that he’d hurt the kid.

Tyler was like most of the guys who went after Hunter—needy and
submissive. And though Hunter had treated most of them pretty much
the same, Tyler had hung on for a lot longer than most guys did.
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re well. I should—”

“Did you meet someone or something?” Tyler asked, changing the

subject. “Or is this one of those things where you just started
therapy?”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Neither.”
“Really?” Tyler sounded like he wasn’t buying it.
He didn’t want Tyler going around school telling people he saw a

shrink, so he said, “I am sort of seeing someone. But it’s not serious.”
Even saying he was seeing Steve was stretching the truth. A couple of
blow jobs wasn’t a relationship. At least, not exactly.

Daisy Harris

“Hmmm.” Tyler sounded thoughtful. “Yeah, it really puts stuff in

perspective when you find Mr. Right, doesn’t it?”

Hunter had no idea what Tyler was talking about. “How so?”
“Well, you realize that all the guys you were with before didn’t

mean anything. I mean—they weren’t real. You meet the right person,
and suddenly it’s like, ‘Oh! This is what I was looking for.’”

“Yeah.” Hunter’s throat felt tight and dry, so he swallowed. He

didn’t see things exactly the way Tyler did, but he agreed with his
point. Hookups were hookups. But Steve seemed different. “I see
what you mean.”

“Ah! Just heard Cal come in. No offense, but he doesn’t like you

very much, I gotta go.” Tyler hung up without saying goodbye.

And Hunter lay there for a while thinking about what he’d said.
Steve was different. Okay, maybe they weren’t in a relationship.

But…it was closer to a relationship than anything Hunter had been in
before.

Being with Steve changed everything—and that was at once

exciting and terrifying. Because if Steve was different from all the
other guys, it would matter if he went away. And it mattered what he
thought of Hunter.

Shit. Hunter was really screwed.

* * * *

“Wanna fuck me?”
Steve dropped onto the bed. The four layers of pillows bounced

behind him and one of the chocolates slipped off. He widened his
eyes in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Hunter pulled off his tie and started with his shirt. “I

don’t get the sense you like to bottom, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, no.” Steve sat up to rub Hunter’s elbows, sliding

Hunter’s shirt off his arms. “It’s not really my thing.”

“S’okay. I’m up for it.”

Pride and Politics

Steve smiled. He’d assumed Hunter and him would do something

when he got in, but this was more than he’d hoped.

“Let’s take a shower first, okay?” Steve unbuttoned his shirt. “I’m

really gross.” After their flight, they’d caught a quick nap in the limo.
But then there had been a long fund-raising dinner, followed by over
an hour of stacking chairs at the end of the event. It wasn’t part of
Steve’s job description, but the hotel had been having issues finding
enough staff to handle all the details of the campaign stop. Natalie had
asked if Steve could help her and a bunch of staff members fill in the
gaps.

“Nah, you smell awesome.” Hunter wound his arms around Steve,

pulling him into a hug. He rubbed his hands up and down Steve’s
back, excitement in his every touch. “But a shower would be fun.”

“Wonderful.” He got off his pants and underwear, and then

followed Hunter into the bathroom.

The shower stall was huge and had two showerheads. Steve

started the water then jostled Hunter under. He took a nice long time
washing Hunter’s back, his shoulders, his ass. He reached around and
washed between Hunter’s legs while Hunter leaned back, resting on
Steve’s chest.

Yes. That is what they needed. To totally relax. It felt so good

after the long day of travel and work.

After a long moment, Steve shut off the water. He jostled Hunter

out of the shower and wrapped a towel around both of them

“Did you bring any stuff?” Steve whispered in Hunter’s ear. He

figured Hunter must have brought lube and condoms, though Steve
didn’t want to be presumptuous.

“My overnight bag.” Hunter scraped his fingers through Steve’s

hair. It was a little too hard, as usual. But Steve liked it. It showed that
Hunter wanted him.

“I’ll grab them.” Steve rifled through the zippered case while

Hunter shucked off his towel and made his way onto the bed.

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With a quick smile, Steve dropped his towel, too. It felt weird to

be completely naked in a brightly lit room. Even when Steve had had
steady boyfriends, they’d always made love in the dark.

But Hunter didn’t seem bothered by the exposure. In fact, he

hitched a leg up on the bed and rubbed his cock as he watched Steve.
“Thanks.” He smiled, and that simple gesture said so many things—I
like you, and trust you. You make me happy.

Maybe it was because Hunter was always so pissed that it made

Steve feel like a damned hero.

“You’re very welcome.” Steve climbed onto the bed.
Hunter closed his eyes as Steve came over him, gasped as their

dicks rubbed together, all sensitive and damp from the shower.

Steve prepped him, making sure his lubed fingers were careful.

He never stopped kissing Hunter—his eyes, his cheeks, his neck.
When Steve pressed a fingertip inside, Hunter opened his mouth on a
moan.

“God, you are so hot when you make those sounds.” Steve sealed

their mouths together.

Hunter’s forehead creased. “You gonna do it?” His voice was

demanding.

“Mm-hmm…” Steve rolled on a condom and covered it with a

generous coating of lube.

“Need a little more?” Hunter smiled.
“Smart-ass.” Steve touched his face, urging Hunter to look at him.

“We can stop any time, okay?”

Hunter laughed. He didn’t seem to need Steve’s reassurance.

“Yeah. I know.” Then he kissed Steve, wrapped his arms around
Steve’s shoulders.

Steve bore forward a short way, then retreated. “A little more,

okay?” Steve flexed his hips, and his head slid right past Hunter’s
barriers.

“Oh, mother f…” Hunter arched off the bed.

Pride and Politics

“God, Hunter.” Steve pressed close, squeezing Hunter’s cock in

that sweet spot between their bodies. He nuzzled their foreheads
together. “God, you are…” He shook his head.

Steve pulled back enough to hold Hunter’s face between his

hands. He didn’t want to miss even a second of those eyes, the way
they widened at the bottom of Steve’s every thrust, the way they were
dilated with lust and excitement.

“I want to see it.” Steve kissed him fast, because he couldn’t

breathe otherwise. “Jerk off. Lemme see you come while I fuck you.”

Hunter moaned again—he started with a groan, but it got higher

pitched halfway through. By the end, his voice would crack like he
was trying not to cry out.

And Steve wanted to make him do it, make Hunter scrabble his

hands on the sheets and shout at the ceiling and forget everything in
the world besides how good Steve made him feel.

“Yeah…” Hunter stroked faster. His tip was damp with pre-cum,

but Steve reached to where some of their excess lube had dripped on
Hunter’s thigh and rubbed it on Hunter’s swollen cock.

Hunter threw his head back, letting go of his dick and shivering as

Steve fucked him and stroked him at the same time.

Cum boiled in Steve’s dick and his cock got thick and needy. He

let go, thrusting inside Hunter’s body, trusting Hunter was only a
second behind. And Steve had been right, because the moment
Steve’s cock pulsed and the condom filled with slippery liquid,
Hunter tensed. His dick sprayed all over his chest and belly. His
whimpers filled the room.

Long moments passed, when they held one another close. But

then Hunter wiggled, rubbing his dick through the jizz between their
bodies. And it felt like he was doing a tiny little dance.

“Not too bad, huh?” Steve couldn’t help but feel pretty damn good

about his performance. He kissed Hunter’s sweaty brow.

“Yeah. Really good, actually.” He shifted position in a way that

made it clear he wanted Steve to pull out. “Glad I tried that.”

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So Steve rolled on his side. It was weird, even though they’d had

sex it felt like something was missing, and Steve wasn’t sure what.
“Happy to hear it.”

“D’you mind if I take the first shower?” Hunter rolled up off the

bed and crossed into the bathroom.

“Sure.” Steve wanted something else, maybe closeness, or a

cuddle, or something. He wanted more than just feeling like he’d done
a good job. But he didn’t know how to ask for it.

Not wanting to seem needy, Steve got out of bed and started to get

cleaned up. “D’you want a soda out of the minibar?”

“Sure,” Hunter called from the bathroom.
“Hey,” Steve said, needing to communicate something. “Thanks.”

He wasn’t sure what he was thanking Hunter for.

Hunter didn’t answer at first, and Steve wondered if he’d heard.

But right when Steve was opening the mini fridge Hunter called back,
“Yeah. Was fun.”

Steve waited for something more and gave up when he heard the

shower start.

“Yeah.” Steve frowned. He missed that feeling from the alley,

where Hunter had been his everything and they were the only two
people in the world. But he didn’t know how to get that back. He
wasn’t normally subby. Not in the slightest. But something about
Hunter drew it out of him.

He bent into a crouch and looked into the fridge, scanning for

something Hunter would like, wondering what he needed to give to
feel like he had given Hunter enough.

* * * *

Sweat trickled down Steve’s face, but he picked up his pace on the

treadmill. He pressed a button to increase the speed, trying to outrun
the stress of the campaign.

Pride and Politics

They had a briefing at 9:00 a.m., and then a flight to Montana at

eleven thirty. He should probably head upstairs and wake Hunter up,
even if Hunter was pissed about it after.

Another day, another swing state—Steve had no idea how

politicians handled campaigning.

The timer buzzed, and the belt slowed to a cool-off speed. Steve

grabbed his water out of the holder and took a swig while slowing his
pace to a brisk walk. He should probably work with the machines
before breakfast and get in a few sets, but he didn’t think he’d have
time.

The gym was entirely full and mostly occupied by campaign staff.

There seemed to be some kind of hierarchy to who got to use the
weights in what order, and Steve didn’t have the energy to figure out
where he fell.

His machine slowed to a stop, and Steve hopped off and grabbed a

towel to wipe his face.

The door to the gym opened. Steve looked up just in time to see

Jed walk in, a hotel towel in his one hand and a morning paper in the
other. Just the sight of the guy was enough to make every muscle on
Steve’s body tense. He wanted to tear the guy limb from limb, make
him pay for every second he’d made Hunter nervous, or scared, or
sad.

Jed looked up. There was a flash of recognition when he saw

Steve, but he turned away before Steve could make real eye contact.

Fuck him. Steve stalked over to the water fountain where Jed was

filling his bottle.

“Hey.” Steve stepped up behind him. He grabbed a cup out of the

dispenser and filled it with water.

“Oh.” Jed looked him over, pretending to only now recognize

him. “Hunter’s handler, right?”

Steve lifted his chin. He was a little shorter than Jed, but he was

almost as wide. “Yeah, right, listen.” Steve bent close enough that he
wouldn’t be overheard. “Leave him the fuck alone. You hear me?”

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Jed’s eyes went wide. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yeah.” It felt so good to say what he wanted to the bastard, even

if he couldn’t act on it in the crowded workout room. “You mess with
him again, and I’ll break your fucking nose.”

He crumpled his cup, threw it in the trash, and walked away. His

blood was pumping from the workout and from the fury pouring
through his body. He wanted to go up to the room and throw Hunter
onto the bed. Hell, he wanted to beat the crap out of Jed and lay his
broken body at Hunter’s feet.

But he didn’t think that would go over well.
There was a café on the ground floor of the hotel and Steve

grabbed him and Hunter some coffee and pastries, trying to cool
down. He got an orange in case Hunter wasn’t really hungry, since
he’d never seen Hunter eat much before afternoon.

An elevator was already in the hallway when he arrived at the

stairwell, and Steve rose to their floor without any trouble. He
balanced everything in one hand while he fed the key card into the
reader. A little coffee spilled on his arm, but he managed to get the
door open.

When he stepped inside, it was to find Hunter sitting on the couch

in his sleep shorts, wearing a look of such anger Steve almost tripped
over his feet.

“What?”
Hunter stared at him for another second, his eyes steely slits and

his sharp jaw grinding. Then, in a rush of movement, he stood. “What
the fuck did you think you were doing?”

Steve settled their breakfast on the table. “Just working out.” His

blood rose again, his anger never having fully abated after he’d talked
to Jed. “And getting you breakfast.”

“Not that. This.” Hunter shoved his cell phone under Steve’s nose.

“What the fuck did you do?”

There was a text message. It was from Jed.
Sleeping w ur handler? Why am I not surprised?

Pride and Politics

Then another.
He talks to me again? He’s off the campaign. Threatens me? I’ll

have him arrested.

“What a douche.” Steve said at the phone. He had no idea what to

make of Jed’s message, wasn’t sure Jed even had the power to get
him removed from his job.

“Is that all you have to say?” Hunter crossed his arms. His eyes

flashed with anger. “You go and try to get yourself fired, and all you
have to say is, ‘What a douche’?”

Steve scrubbed his face. He was sick of trying to figure out who

could say what to whom, and how to play the game without knowing
the rules. “I was trying to defend you.”

Hunter turned away. His shoulders were tense and his head bent.
“Oh, come on.” Steve felt a sudden wave of guilt. He didn’t feel

bad for threatening Jed, but he had certainly not meant to hurt Hunter
in the process. “It would be his word against mine, anyway.” Steve
touched Hunter’s shoulder.

“How could you?” It sounded like Hunter was crying.
Steve’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t known Hunter even cared.

The though was enough to make his heart hurt. “Oh, come on.” He
tried to close his hand around Hunter’s biceps, but Hunter threw him
off.

“I had you. And you were real. Now one wrong move, and they’re

going to make you leave.” Hunter shook his head. But then he tilted it
back to look at the ceiling. “I was such a fucking idiot.”

“Hunter. Even if I got fired, they can’t keep us apart if we want to

date.” He wished he could fast forward a few hours or days. Find out
if anything worse was going to happen. At that moment it felt like
Chase Ford himself was about to knock down their door, telling Steve
to pack his bags and go. “They’re not like the mafia.”

Hunter spun around. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet.

“No, genius. They’re not the mafia. They’re the US fucking
government.”

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“But—”
“Seriously. They can do whatever they—”
“He was hurting you.” Steve held his hands up. He hadn’t meant

to shout, but Steve was losing his mind. “What was I supposed to
do?”

“You were supposed to trust me.” Hunter strode over to the

minibar and plucked through it to pull out a small bottle of Jack
Daniels. “I can handle it,” he said, reaching for a cup.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Steve grabbed the bottle out of his hand and

then pulled out an orange juice instead. It was canned, but it was some
fancy brand that should be good enough for Hunter’s picky taste buds.
“Here.”

“I’m not drinking that.” He lifted his chin and tried to put on his

snotty attitude despite the tearstains on his cheek.

“It’s better for you,” Steve said simply.
Hunter scoffed, but then opened the can and drank half of it down.
Steve blinked, his eyes suddenly watering. How could he trust

Hunter to take care of himself when the guy seemed hell bent on self-
destruction? He wanted to take care of Hunter, make sure he was safe.
But Steve had no fucking idea how. “Even if they do end up firing
me, we can see each other—”

“I’m going to Italy.” Hunter stared at the can in his fist. “Then

back to school in Vermont.”

“I can visit you.” He reached over to touch Hunter’s hand.
Hunter flinched. “Don’t do that again.”
Steve looked at Hunter’s hand, not understanding. “You don’t

want—”

“Don’t risk yourself like that.” In a sudden rush, Hunter pressed

into him, backing Steve into the wall. He kissed Steve hard and fast.
And when he moved to Steve’s neck, as he liked to do, he murmured,
“Don’t you fucking dare leave.”

“Okay,” Steve answered. He rubbed Hunter’s back. “It’s okay.”

Pride and Politics

He let Hunter kiss him as hard as he wanted, held still while

Hunter pulled off his shirt. “What do you want?” Steve asked.
“Anything at all.” He had a feeling he knew the answer.

Hunter paused, his hands on Steve’s belt. He met Steve’s gaze

slowly, eyes gray like a gathering storm. “I want to fuck you. I
know…I mean, I know you don’t usually…”

“Shh…” Steve rubbed his thumbs up along Hunter’s back. He

took a deep breath, and added, “I will.”

“Really?” Hunter resumed his frantic undressing, getting Steve’s

shorts down his legs. He ran his lips up Steve’s neck to right under his
ear. “Oh, fuck, I’ll be good for you. I swear—”

“Just be careful, okay? I haven’t for years.” And even then, only a

couple times…

Hunter nodded into Steve’s shoulder. He let Steve push off his

sleep shorts.

“Be right back.” He took a final look at Hunter, pale skin, flushed

chest. Steve steeled his nerve.

Hunter’s toiletries case was so neat it might have been organized

by a stranger. Steve found what he was looking for right away and
applied some lube to his rim. He figured Hunter knew about foreplay,
but he also understood how things got in the heat of the moment.

And Hunter may have been many things, but patient wasn’t one of

them.

“What’re you doing?” Hunter called from the other side of the

bathroom door.

Steve couldn’t help but tense. “Getting ready.”
“I woulda done that,” Hunter answered.
God. Steve was so damned into him. So much he was prepping for

his not-favorite sex act. But it didn’t matter, because he wanted to be
close to Hunter and give him what he needed. He hadn’t felt like this,
ever. Like he wanted to give someone else everything, whatever they
wanted. It was hot, but also scary as hell. “You can help if you want.”

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“I do want.” Hunter appeared in the doorway. He came up against

Steve’s back, his dick instantly prodding at where he wanted to be.
“Give me some.” He reached for the lube.

“Go easy.” Steve pressed the bottle into Hunter’s palm and put his

hands on the sink. Fuck. He didn’t know if he could do this.

“I will.” Hunter kissed his shoulder. His touch found Steve’s

crease and then his rim. He slid inside easily.

Steve worried Hunter might start to finger him hard, as if being

rougher would get them where they needed to go more quickly. He
wound up to explain what Hunter needed to do.

But Hunter just stroked in and out in a slow deliberate rhythm. It

wasn’t anything like how he made out, or kissed, or even acted. It was
sure and strong. He twisted a little at the end, just enough to make
Steve want more.

Making Steve terrified because he wanted more.
“Good?” Hunter asked. He humped against Steve’s leg, his cock

more insistent than his fingers.

“Yeah.” Steve closed his eyes, getting used to the feeling of

somebody else’s fingers inside him. “Yeah, more.” He pressed back.
“Better than I remembered.”

Hunter’s chest bounced against his back. A small laugh. “I’d

never done it before you.”

Steve craned his neck around for a kiss. He whispered, “I

wondered.” Then he grinned against Hunter’s lips.

He wasn’t surprised Hunter had never bottomed before the

previous night. Hell, Steve wasn’t sure the guy had ever really kissed
anyone or smiled at anyone before him. Hunter might have had plenty
of experience getting blow jobs or having eager bottoms back up onto
his dick. But Steve didn’t think he’d ever had a real lover.

“Okay.” Hunter lined up against Steve’s back.
Steve closed his eyes. He let out a long breath and relaxed,

pushing backwards while Hunter eased forward. Oh, God, it was

Pride and Politics

bigger than he remembered, more…He wasn’t sure if he could do
this…

“You need to stop?” Hunter stroked down his arm, and that gentle

touch sent a shudder through Steve’s body. He released muscles he
didn’t know he’d been holding and the head of Hunter’s cock popped
inside.

“Oh, God, oh, God…” Steve breathed through his nose, hanging

his head between his arms. It was so much more intense than he
remembered.

But Hunter must have understood, because he held perfectly still.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel amazing.”

Steve shook with the force of his emotions. It was too much. Was

he supposed to give Hunter everything? Take care of him, and care
about him, keep his mouth shut when Hunter told him to?

Offer his ass up on a platter?
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Steve shifted forward, so that he

pulled off Hunter’s dick. He turned to face him, so their erections
knocked together between them. Steve looked into Hunter’s confused
eyes. “I…”

He’d thought if he got himself prepped and they did it standing

that he’d be okay. He’d been wrong. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think I
can.”

Hunter tilted his head, his forehead puckering as he studied

Steve’s face. “Did I hurt you?”

Yes. “No.”
“Do you want to try it lying down instead?” Hunter stroked

Steve’s arm with the back of his hand. He looked Steve over—his
chest, his belly. Hunter looked hungrily at Steve’s cock.

Steve flinched away. “Do you even care that it’s me?” God, how

had they come from Hunter being in tears to him feeling like he was
going to cry in such a short time? But that was the crux of it. There
was only one Hunter. Only one guy Steve felt this way about, and he

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could probably go the rest of his life without ever feeling this way
again.

Fuck, maybe it was hero worship or being starstruck. But that

didn’t matter. Hunter was like royalty. And Steve—how could he
compete?

Even if Hunter didn’t want to see him fired, what did that really

mean? Hunter could find someone to take Steve’s place in a matter of
days.

“Are you kidding?” Hunter grabbed his arms. He was all bones

and sinews as he glared. “You think I’d do this with just anyone?”

Maybe Steve was being defensive, but he asked, “Don’t you?”
Hunter went perfectly, rigidly still. Then slowly, his chin lifted.

And his eyes lost their shine. “No.” His dick was deflating, and
Hunter grabbed the condom and tossed it in the trash. His cold
manner was back in full force, like a suit of armor made of ice. “I
don’t.”

“C’mon.” Steve reached for Hunter’s elbow. He caught it and

didn’t let go. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Whatever,” Hunter said. He didn’t bother throwing off Steve’s

touch. He didn’t have to, because his sneer froze Steve’s fingers.
“You should probably go to your room now.”

They’d never made it into Steve’s room the night before. Instead

they’d both set up their belongings in Hunter’s suite. Steve hadn’t
thought through yet where he was planning to sleep for the second
night in Ohio, but he guessed now he knew.

Pride and Politics

Chapter Six:

Montana

Hunter kept his eyes on his plate as he lifted the bite of glazed

salmon to his lips. On some level, he realized that it was tender and
succulent, cooked to perfection and provided by the food service
company at exorbitant cost.

But he couldn’t enjoy his food because Jed’s presence at the side

of the room sucked his attention, as well as his will to live.

He wanted to kill the guy. Hire some hit man to murder him in his

sleep. Hunter had never had the slightest urge to go into politics, but
he did at that moment—if only so he’d have the power to crush Jed
Stuart like a bug.

“What’s your problem?” Wendy leaned into his side.
“Nothing. Just got a lousy night’s sleep last night.” He hitched up

his lips into a smile. It was loud enough in the banquet hall that no
one could hear what they were talking about. He may as well make it
look as if it were something pleasant.

“Want some sleeping pills?” she asked. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I

won’t need them back home.”

He felt an odd stab of gratefulness to her, though he wasn’t sure it

was a good idea for her to think they were friends. Her husband had
political ambitions of his own. Next thing Hunter knew, he could be
asked to run around the country with her family, too. “No, I’ll be
fine.” He went back to his food, trying to force it down so he
wouldn’t have to order room service later. Or, God forbid, eat at the
hotel restaurant.

Daisy Harris

Hunter would have given his left nut to be eating pasta back home

in his kitchen.

“Okay, then. Good luck on the rest of the tour.”
He nodded. Then he proceeded to slog his way through his meal.
Any moment, his uncle was going up on stage to make some

remarks. Hunter looked to the side of the room where Jed had been
standing, and saw that the spot was empty.

“I need to use the restroom.” It wasn’t true, but if Hunter ducked

out now, he could claim that he’d been in the bathroom until after
they’d already dimmed the lights for the speeches. “See you in a
moment.”

“Yeah, sure.” Wendy pursed her lips, clearly knowing that Hunter

was just trying to get out of sitting through the rest of lunch.

He whispered apologies to the other people at the table and made

his way across the room to one of the smaller exits. It was a side door,
one he knew wouldn’t be opened for him by eager bellhops.

He pushed outside and found himself in a hallway that ran

alongside the kitchens. That was a dead end, though. It led to an
emergency door—which probably led outside.

“Can I help you, Mr. Ford?” The waiter in her black uniform and

white apron looked at him nervously.

“Is there a way I can get into the lobby from here?” He smiled

flirtatiously, hoping to garner good will.

“Go through there.” She pointed to a door at the other end of the

kitchen, past the caterers and servers loading dessert onto small
plates. “Then take a left. The third door on your right will take you
out to the lobby.”

“Thank you.” Hunter followed the path she suggested, weaving

through the staff, and then curving into the dark hallway.
Unfortunately, Jed was standing there, texting something into his
phone.

Pride and Politics

Hunter’s pulse hopped. He could have turned around and gone

back through the kitchens, gone through with his lie of going to the
bathroom and coming right back.

But, fuck. He didn’t want to back down. What—was Jed going to

rape him in this hallway? Between the kitchen and the lobby? Was he
really planning to chase Hunter all over like he had when they were in
prep school?

With a shuddering breath, Hunter walked into the hallway. Every

step felt like it was taking him one step closer to that damn shower.
But he couldn’t run away. He just couldn’t.

“Hey, Hun.” Jed looked up from his smartphone. His smile was

slow and mean, and he stepped into the hallway as if he knew exactly
where Hunter was going. “Where you running off to?”

Hunter couldn’t meet his eyes. He felt like shit, but he just

couldn’t make himself look at Jed. “Get out of my way,” he said to
the wall.

“Aw, c’mon.” Jed stepped toward him. “I’ve missed you all these

years. Don’t you want to say hello?” He rubbed his hand on his belly.
It was suggestive, but Hunter couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose
or subconsciously.

“What? Are you asking me to suck you—?” Hunter swallowed.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask it. He could say those words to
anyone else on the planet. Fucking anyone. But he couldn’t say them
to Jed. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, but you want to ‘talk’ with your handler, huh? Classy.” Jed

crossed his arms. “You think I’m scared of him?”

Hunter didn’t care if Jed was scared of Steve, only that he stayed

the hell away from him. Hunter was an idiot for telling Steve about
his history with Jed. He never should have let on about that.

Steve was the only thing getting him through this campaign.
In a world where Hunter didn’t give a shit about anything or

anyone, Steve was real. And Hunter would bend over and take it from
Jed before he let him hurt Steve.

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Daisy Harris

So Hunter reined in everything—his fear, his feelings. He blew

out a haughty sigh, aiming to sound as bored as possible. Then he
tipped his head back to look Jed in the eye. It hurt to do it. But he
pushed the scared kid inside him to the furthest reaches of his brain
and held Jed’s beady gaze. “I think you’re scared of a lot of things.”

Jed let Hunter by, but he stayed uncomfortably close the whole

time, getting right behind Hunter as Hunter pushed open the door.

“Not scared of you.” Jed whispered in Hunter’s ear. “Remember

you crying like a little bitch.”

Hunter opened the door and stepped into the light of the lobby.

The door swung closed behind him but not before he heard Jed’s
laugh.

* * * *

“Where the fuck have you been?” Hunter called into Steve’s

room.

Steve shut the door behind him. “At a diner across town.”
“You should have stayed in your room,” Hunter called from his

room.

“I’m not going to hide.” Steve set down his briefcase on the bed.

“Besides, the diner had free Wi-Fi.”

Hunter appeared in his doorway, his dress shirt open over a white

T-shirt. He’d taken off his pants, so his boxer briefs peeked out from
under his clothes. He looked young and vulnerable and also so sexy
Steve wanted to get down and blow him like he had in that alley.

“You don’t have to hide for the whole rest of the tour.” Hunter

shrugged. “But give Jed a few more days to cool off.”

Steve’s temper flared. “Did he try to talk to you today?” It didn’t

matter, really. Not after what Steve had spent the whole night and
most of the day planning. But still, it pissed him off that Hunter had
asked him to stay away from the luncheon.

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101

“He tried. But he got called away.” Hunter looked nervous.

“Listen. I shouldn’t have I freaked out on you so hard yesterday.”

“No. I get it.” Steve rubbed his jaw. Hunter had wanted something

from him, and Steve had failed. He still didn’t know why he hadn’t
gone through with it. Maybe it was because he’d felt so powerless.

“Not everyone likes it. It’s cool.” Hunter frowned at his bare feet.
Steve had always liked a man’s feet. Not in a fetish-type way, but

he liked the masculinity of them. “No. I was outta line. I shouldn’t
have said that stuff.”

Hunter just shrugged.
“Hey, you want to get out of here? Go for a drive or something?”

They’d been driven to the hotel in a town car as usual, but Natalie had
a rental car. She’d agreed to lend him the keys.

“Yeah.” Hunter pulled his shirt off his shoulders. “That sounds

really great.”

Hunter disappeared into his room to change while Steve called

Natalie and got a runner to bring him her car keys. Twenty minutes
later, he and Hunter were pulling out of the valet area of the Billings
hotel. The air outside was crisp, and the sky was a wide-open blue
despite the angle of the sun. A late-afternoon bronze coated the city.

“Where are we going?” Hunter asked. He kicked off his sneakers

and put one of his ankles out the window and the other one on the
dashboard. He jerked back the seat as far as it would go and leaned to
mostly reclining.

With his sunglasses on, he looked like he was planning to fall

asleep.

“I dunno. Out of the city a ways. We don’t have to be back until

the briefing tomorrow morning.”

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” Hunter smiled.
Steve could tell he liked the idea of heading off into the Montana

sunset and not coming back until dawn.

“Oh, well.”

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Hunter wasn’t under any obligation to stay at the hotels the

campaign booked.

“Yeah. Oh fucking well.” Hunter crossed his arms behind his

head. He was wearing a pale-gray T-shirt and his armpit hair peeked
out from the arm holes.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and kissing him.
“Hey.” Hunter smiled. He looked as mellow and sated as a cat,

lying there in the passenger side. “Who said I’ve forgiven you?” He
cocked his eyebrows flirtatiously.

“No one.” Steve resumed his driving. He pulled onto the highway

and started streaming away from the city. “But that doesn’t mean we
can’t make out tonight.”

“Good point.” Hunter shoved his arm, like a rough caress.
A state highway led off from the main one, and Steve turned that

direction, just to see where it led.

“Where are we going?” Hunter lifted his head enough to look

better out the window. The landscape was wide and flat, and though
there were houses in the distance, they seemed like tiny specks.

“I dunno. Somewhere quiet?” Steve offered.
“Yeah.” Hunter stretched out, yawning. “Somewhere quiet sounds

really nice.”

After a while, Steve wondered if Hunter had fallen asleep. His

eyes were closed behind his sunglasses, and his face was relaxed. He
looked happy, and Steve was so damn proud of making him look that
way.

“Y’know, Florence is amazing,” Hunter said suddenly. “It’s like

all this history is concentrated into one place. Everything’s beautiful
and classic. The streets are made of stone instead of concrete. And it
smells good. Like rocks and clay and pizza.”

Steve watched out the window as wispy clouds painted their way

across the pink sky. “I’ve never been.”

Hunter shifted his seat up a bit so he could look out the window.

“I went there on a school trip in high school.”

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103

When Steve raised his eyebrows questioningly, Hunter chuckled.

“Yeah—prep school. It was an option for spring break one year. My
parents were busy campaigning, and they let me off the hook.”

“Sounds great.” Steve could only imagine having that kind of

freedom as a teenager. His parents had been the type to keep an eye
on everything, want to spend every school break doing as many
family activities as possible. He was fortunate, he knew, for having
parents who were so involved. But Steve had to admit sometimes it
had felt stifling.

“Yeah, I was in a really horrible phase. Couldn’t hide the fact I

was gay to save my life. Had braces, zits. Wore these horrible tight
clothes all the time just to piss everyone off.” He shuddered
dramatically. “No way were they going to put me in front of cameras
that year.”

“Oh.” Steve tried to unwind the threads of what Hunter was

saying. Parts of his trip sounded awesome and amazing, but there
were aspects of the circumstances that were horrible. He found that he
could hardly reconcile his own thoughts. He had no idea how Hunter
did it. “Well, at least you got a cool trip out of it.”

“Yeah.” Hunter smiled like he had a secret. “I met a boy there.”

He blushed. Actually, honest to God, blushed. “At a club I snuck
into.”

God. Was there anything Hunter hadn’t done to break the rules?

“So was he the first time you…”

“Yeah. I mean, the first time I did it for real.”
Steve smiled. “Yeah. My first time was with my college

boyfriend.” His mom and dad had been out to a movie with his sister,
but somehow that didn’t seem as glamorous as losing his virginity to
a person he didn’t know, in a dance club in a foreign country. “My
life is pretty boring, when you really think about it.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so negative.

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“Nah.” Hunter shrugged. “Sounds nice.” He took off his

sunglasses, since it had gotten dark enough he couldn’t see with them.
“You should visit Florence, though. I mean, even if it’s not with me.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Steve picked up Hunter’s hand

from where it lay on the armrest. He kissed its palm. “But it sounds a
lot more fun if I’m with you.”

* * * *

Hunter squinted. The sun coming through the window was like a

hot poker in his eyes. He blinked, slowly becoming aware of his body
folded into an awkward position in the front seat. His seat was fully
reclined and he’d scrunched up as well as he could. It was cold in the
Montana morning, and the thin jacket Steve had thrown over his
shoulders was doing little to keep out the chill.

“Steve?” He rolled over, looking for Steve in the seat next to him,

but it was empty. So Hunter looked out the windows, at the grassy
open fields around where Steve had parked the car the night before.
Steve’s head and torso were visible above the waist-high grass, and he
was turned around like he was peeing.

Hunter cracked open the door and hauled himself outside to do the

same.

“You up?” Steve looked at him over his shoulder. His hair was a

messy mat of brown and his face scruffy. He looked tired, but happy.

“Yeah. M’up.” Hunter wandered over to his side, unfastening his

jeans as he went. He felt deliciously filthy still being in clothes he’d
worn the day before. “Too bad we didn’t have time to drive back last
night.” He pulled his dick free from his underwear and relaxed to
release his stream.

“Yeah.” Steve yawned luxuriously. He shook his cock before

tucking it into his pants. “Shoulda set my phone alarm. Didn’t think
I’d nod off so long.”

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105

Hunter finished what he was doing. He rearranged his underwear

but left his jeans unbuttoned. He was so fucking happy he couldn’t
stop smiling. The air was warming up and smelled like the beginnings
of fall. Hunter’s shirt was dirty and his hair was a mess, and after all
the airplanes and hotels of the past week and a half, he thought he
could die happy.

The fact that they’d blown each other under a sky full of stars the

night before only made it more fantastic. “S’okay. We should get
back, though.”

Steve cracked his neck to one side, then the other. “Yeah.” He

reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. His eyebrows
furrowed. “It should be late enough.”

Hunter frowned. “You mean ‘early enough.’”
“No.” Steve gave him a secret smile. He reached over and wound

his hand around Hunter’s nape, pulling him into a kiss. The sleep
sourness washed away after a moment, leaving nothing but the taste
of Steve. He pulled away just when Hunter wondered if they had time
for a quickie before heading back.

“What are you so sly about?” Hunter started back toward the car,

trudging in open sneakers. It wasn’t normal for Steve to act secretive
and quiet. And he was being both right now. In fact, he was smirking.
Which was something Steve never did.

“I’ll show you when we stop for breakfast.” Steve pulled open the

door and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Hell, no.” Hunter rounded to his side of the car. He hopped in

right as Steve was starting the motor. Whatever secret Steve had, it
was making him grin like a lunatic, and Hunter was too damn curious
to leave it alone. “Tell me.”

He reached to his feet to grab the water he and Steve had picked

up during their drive. Hunter took a swig before handing it across to
Steve’s outstretched hand.

“It’s one of those things you need to see, not hear.”

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With that cryptic pronouncement, Steve drank a long sip of water.

Then he wiped his mouth across his wrist.

Hunter wanted to shake him. “Tell me!”
Steve just smiled harder. “Fine. You can watch on my phone. But

don’t be surprised if it keeps breaking up.” Steve tilted his hips to get
his phone out of his back pocket. Then he thumbed across the screens.

Luckily, they were on an empty stretch of highway, but Hunter

still poised his hand at the steering wheel in case Steve needed help
steering.

“Here.” Steve handed the phone across to Hunter. “It’s easier to

see if you look at it horizontal.”

Hunter took the phone in his hand, turning it the way Steve had

said. The thing he was watching was a video feed, but it was black
and white and grainy. It seemed like a hotel room—maybe at Steve
and Hunter’s hotel. There were two guys inside, but they kept passing
the camera, so he couldn’t make out their faces.

They were both thin and hairless, though. One of them passed

close enough to the camera for Hunter to make out his face. The guy
looked like he was in his teens.

“Ooh, underage porn? You shouldn’t have.” Hunter tilted his head

sideways, trying to see better. “I woulda thought you’d be too much
of a stick in the mud for this kind of thing.”

Steve shoved Hunter’s head, ruffling his hair. “We’re not

watching them have sex, you freak.”

Hunter glanced back at the screen to where the guys were starting

to take off their clothes. There was no sound on the image, so he had
no idea what they were saying. Still, it looked like sex was the
direction things were going.

“Certainly looks like they’re gonna have sex.”
“Just wait.” Steve leaned over to peek at the screen.
“Okay, what am I supposed to be looking at?” Hunter asked

skeptically.

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107

Right then, the door to the hotel room opened, and a man walked

in—actually, it was Jed.

Hunter’s eyes went wide and he covered his mouth with his hand.

Oh, my God. “Is this live?”

Jed was starting to undress. “Do you think we should report this to

someone? I mean, he could be…” He didn’t want to be party to kids
getting hurt, even if it got Jed in trouble in the process.

Steve smiled, preening. “Just watch.”
On screen, Jed spun around as someone opened the door. He

waved at the boys, and tried to stop whoever was trying to enter from
getting inside. The camera was immobile, so Hunter couldn’t make
out very well what was going on. But suddenly one of the boys turned
to the camera, and Hunter saw that it was that kid Billy, from Grindr.
Billy winked at the camera as if he knew Hunter was watching him.

“Oh. My. God.” Hunter ogled the screen. “How?”
Steve wore a Cheshire cat grin.
He was like a superhero. Or maybe a supervillain. But either way,

the guy was fucking amazing. Hunter had never, ever been more
impressed with someone than he was with Steve in that moment.
“You framed Jed for me?”

Nonchalantly, Steve nodded. “Yeah.” He rolled his shoulders

back, looking extremely pleased with himself. “I figured it would be
better if we weren’t at the hotel when it went down. Plausible
deniability, and all that.”

“But…” Hunter watched as police stormed into Jed’s room, and

started searching his drawers and belongings. He could hardly believe
what he was seeing. “How did you do this?”

“Contacted Billy. Asked if he had a younger friend who might

like to make a few bucks getting a very bad man in trouble.” He kept
his gaze on the road, though his eyes twinkled. “Bought them some
plane tickets, had friends of mine ask for keys to Jed’s room.”

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“What friends?” Hunter thought about the woman he’d seen Steve

talking to at the press conference. The one with the headset. She
seemed like the type to know everyone and everything.

“Oh, I have my contacts.” Steve rubbed his chin, where his beard

was a dark brown shadow along his jaw.

Hunter wanted to bite his way along that jaw to Steve’s lips. “And

you tipped off the cops?”

“Actually, Billy’s friend did that with a disposable cell phone.

Those two were really into the whole espionage thing once I
explained everything to them.”

“Oh.” Hunter crossed one leg over the other. He frowned. “So you

told them?”

Steve turned to the side, taking his eyes off the road for a split

second. “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t my secret to tell. But you said
nothing ever really happened with you two. He just bullied you, and
was grabby and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Hunter let his breath rush out of him. Billy didn’t really

know. Heck, even Steve didn’t really know. “Yeah, that’s all it was.
So…cool.”

“Yeah.” Steve patted Hunter’s hand. Then he closed his fingers

around Hunter’s, warm and firm. With a measured voice, Steve said,
“You don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want.”

A lump sprang into Hunter’s throat, and he nodded. He pretended

to look out the window, so Steve couldn’t see the relief—and maybe
the wetness—in his eyes. He didn’t want to tell Steve how bad it was.
He didn’t want to, but he felt like he had to. The words popped into
his mouth before he could stop them. “He…he never fucked me.
But…” Hunter’s voice shook. And it sucked because he couldn’t
seem to say the words, but he couldn’t not say them, either.

“I can’t promise he won’t ever bother you again.” Steve held his

hand all the harder. His grip was almost bruising, but Hunter liked it
because it made him feel safe. “But maybe this’ll be enough to get
him off the campaign.”

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“Yeah.” Hunter lifted his chin. Sure, Jed probably wouldn’t go to

jail for what happened with Billy and his friend, especially since it
didn’t seem like anything had actually happened, but that didn’t
matter. Steve had rescued him.

Hunter leaned back in his chair. He pulled his sunglasses out of

where he’d stowed them in the door and slipped them onto his face.
“Do you think we’ll be back in time to see them drag him out of the
hotel?”

Steve checked the odometer. “Only if I speed.”
“Baby.” Hunter smiled out the window. “I’ll pay all the tickets.”

* * * *

Hunter stood in the lobby, watching cameras flash, feeling about

the happiest he had in his life. He gave Jed an insouciant little wave,
smirking coyly.

Jed’s expression was irate. A member of Chase’s staff gripped his

arm, escorting him outside. His eyes met Hunter’s again—across the
lobby, and over the heads of journalists and hotel guests alike. And
Hunter had no problem holding Jed’s gaze. Hell, Hunter smiled at him
the whole time.

As it turned out, Billy’s friend had been eighteen, though the

police hadn’t found any reason to fault Billy or his cohort. The tip
they’d received had said that Jed had a couple boys who looked
underage in his room. Still—although there were no charges being
filed, the scandal was enough for him to have been asked to leave the
campaign.

Steve wandered over from the coffee cart on the ground floor.

“Do you think your uncle is going to release a statement?” Steve
glanced nervously across the crowd, from behind his very own set of
aviator sunglasses.

“I’m sure he will. He has to.” Hunter turned away, accepting the

coffee Steve handed him and marching toward the elevator well. “But

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there’s bound to be some more interesting news in a couple days. A
shooting, a terrorist attack somewhere. It’ll all blow over.”

Steve gave him an exasperated look. “We can only hope, right?”
Hunter wanted to slug him playfully in the arm, but couldn’t out

in the open. The damn elevators were crowded as fuck, so he
wandered over to the emergency stairs. He pushed down the panic bar
and stepped into the nondescript stairwell.

The twenty-fifth floor was a long way up, but maybe he could cop

a hand job from Steve at the halfway point.

“Maybe we can grab an elevator a few floors up?” Hunter asked.
But Steve caught his arm and spun him around so his back was to

the wall. He kissed Hunter until he could hardly see. “What’s the
rush?” Steve asked. He pulled his sunglasses up to his forehead,
revealing dark eyes and a wicked smile.

Steve nodded at the exit sign that led out to the loading dock.

“They postponed the briefing until the next campaign stop.” He
palmed Hunter through his pants. Smiling lasciviously, Steve said,
“And we have another hour and a half before our flight.”

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Chapter Seven:

Missouri

Steve felt like he was gliding on Hunter’s approval all the next

day. He was tired as hell, but Hunter had given him the window seat,
so he’d slept for the few hours on the flight to St. Louis.

From the airport, they’d been whisked directly to a private home

where one of the governor’s supporters was hosting a fund-raiser.

Hunter sat at one of the head tables, talking to top donors, a smile

on his face and his chin held high as if none of the drama of the past
week had happened. He was amazing. Steve couldn’t imagine
bouncing back like that. Steve felt like he needed a month’s vacation.

“Hey, Steve. Look at your boy working the crowd.” Natalie

stepped to his side. She looked the consummate professional in a crisp
white suit. It was amazing how she’d pulled that off considering she’d
been getting almost as little sleep as Steve.

“No kidding.” Steve watched as Hunter winked at an eighty-year-

old woman who had pledged over a million dollars to the campaign.
A person might think he was in love with the woman.

Steve wanted to laugh out loud. Hunter should be cast in

Hollywood. He was that good an actor. “He’s amazing.”

“Uh-huh?” Natalie hitched an eyebrow. She did a little dance

move with her head sliding on her neck. “I bet he is.”

“Stop.” Steve was glad he hadn’t had time to shave since morning.

Hopefully his shadow hid his blush. “He and I aren’t…”

“Uh-huh.” She pursed her lips. It was clear that she wasn’t buying

it. “Dude, if I thought for a second that boy was straight, I’d be
sleeping with him.”

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Steve had to laugh at that one. “He’s a complete pain in the ass.”
Natalie shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
She had a point.
“So…” He struggled to explain what he meant. Hunter was

amazing, special. But what was Steve supposed to do? Drop
everything and follow the guy around? Put up with all his craziness,
and grumpiness, and mood swings, just for those moments when
Hunter was astounding?

He looked across the room and saw Hunter transitioning between

talking to one donor and another, and caught the way Hunter flashed
him a sly smirk.

Starstruck.
“So, nothing.” Natalie poked in him the arm. “For what it’s worth,

I’ve never seen him perform like this. He showed up for a couple
events for his father last year. Terrorized every staff member he came
into contact with, was surly with the donors, wooden at the press
conferences.”

“More wooden than this tour?” Steve had a hard time imagining

it.

“Yeah.” Natalie rolled her eyes. “It was horrible.” She stared

across the room at where Hunter was schmoozing a couple CEOs. Her
gaze became pensive. “Y’know, if he can keep this up, the guy may
have a serious future.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “A future in what?”
Natalie leaned in closer. “Parasailing, genius. What do you

think?”

“What?” He looked at her, confused.
“Politics,” Natalie said simply. She gestured across the room.

“He’s smart, charming, good looking as all hell. He could go a long
way.”

Steve looked at Hunter skeptically. “I don’t think he wants to go

into the family business.”

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“Oh, please, what else is he going to do? He’s got charisma flying

out his butthole. Everybody wants a piece of that kid. If he worked on
his delivery a bit, he’d have constituents eating out of his hand.”

To Steve’s surprise, he felt a little jealous that other people might

be as enthralled by Hunter as he was. He remembered how he’d felt in
that alley, and later in the car, under that starry sky, like he would do
anything to be close to Hunter and he couldn’t stand the notion of
anyone else taking what was his.

Did Hunter inspire that in everyone? He probably did. Steve had

read his bio. Lacrosse captain, class president, high school
commencement speaker. All of it seemed so bizarre because Steve
couldn’t imagine Hunter having signed on to do any of those things.
And yet people had voted for him. Maybe Hunter himself didn’t know
why.

People always expected him to go first.
“So, you sticking around?” Natalie asked. She crossed her arms,

probably getting tired since all of them had been standing for several
hours at the back of the room.

“Well, yeah. My contract is for another week.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” She gestured around the

room—at the tables and the lights and the bustle and tension. “I mean,
this. The show.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. “Not if Hunter doesn’t.”
“Just remember this,” Natalie said. She turned to face him fully,

her ponytail brutally tight and her cheekbones sharp. “These guys—”
She pointed out Chase Ford, then Hunter, then a few of the other
politicians in the room. “They aren’t anything without people like you
and me.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. And as Natalie walked away, making her

way to the buffet table to get her plateful of food, he watched Hunter
perform like a pro.

* * * *

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Hello, Cory, Steve signed at the video screen. He normally talked

when he signed—in fact, it was hard for him not to—but he didn’t
want Julie to think he was trying to slip some communication by her.
Nice to meet you.

Julie sat on a couch next to a guy who did not in any way look

like a Cory. The man was at least Steve’s size, and seemed to be a lot
older than eighteen. Steve looked him over, sure his disapproval was
written all over his face.

Hi, Steve. Julie has told me all about you, Cory signed back. He

was fast. Faster even than Steve’s parents had been.

Good things, I hope. He watched the two of them for some kind of

inappropriate body language, measuring the distance between their
knees. So, Cory. What year are you at Hofstra?

I’m a teaching assistant, actually, in the Linguistics Department.
Steve knew it. He was too old for her. And probably using his

skills at sign to lure unsuspecting innocents…

I also volunteer as an interpreter for deaf students, and help with

getting hard-of-hearing and deaf students used to using the resources
on campus.

Oh, so this “Cory” thought that playing the humanitarian card

would make Steve think he was a good guy…Where did you learn to
sign? Steve asked. He’d probably taught himself as a way to meet
girls.

Though, Steve had to admit, Cory was attractive enough that he

probably didn’t have a hard time finding dates.

My mother’s deaf, Cory signed. My dad wasn’t around much, and

my mom’s parents were always working, so I pretty much learned it
as my first language. That’s sort of why I’m interested in linguistics.
There isn’t much research on normal-hearing kids who learn to sign
at the same time or before they learn to talk.

He went on to sign more, but Steve could only pick up half of it.

Cory was using some linguistics terms Steve didn’t understand. And

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halfway through, Julie touched his arm and then signed something at
him so fast Steve didn’t catch what they were saying.

Sorry, big brother, Julie signed directly into the screen. Cory gets

carried away when he talks about his thesis.

Steve smiled at the two of them. As worried as he was, he had to

admit they were cute together. Yeah. No worries.

Just then, the door to the hotel room opened, and Hunter came

back from his work out. He was wearing a white polo skirt and navy
shorts and had a towel wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He
looked like sex on a stick. So handsome it almost hurt to look at him.

What’s up? Julie signed.
Nothing. Hunter just got back to the room.
Oh, my God, you’re sharing a room? With Hunter Ford? Lemme

see! Her hands flew as she signed.

Cory’s expression got thunderous, as if he was jealous.
He can’t sign, he told Julie, making sure she didn’t expect too

much.

“What’re you up to?” Hunter grabbed a water bottle out of the

refrigerator and wandered over to where Steve was sitting on the
couch. He dropped to sit next to Steve.

Is that him? Julie asked. He looks different than in the press

conferences. I’ve been watching to see if I could ever see you.

Yeah, he signed back. They don’t put folks like me on camera. He

smiled a little at that, thinking about what Natalie had said about her
and Steve being the reason people like Chase and Hunter won
elections.

“I didn’t know you could do sign language,” Hunter said. He

looked at the screen with interest. “Is that your sister? She looks like
you.”

Cory leaned forward on the couch. “Hi, I’m Cory, Julie’s

boyfriend.” He said it like he wanted Hunter to know he was normal
hearing, and that if Hunter magicked himself through the screen, he
would kick Hunter’s ass.

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“Nice meeting you.” Hunter downed most of his bottle of water.

Then he looked directly at Julie and said, “Nice meeting you, too.” He
ducked his head when he said it, so even though Julie wouldn’t have
been able to make out his words, she’d know he was acknowledging
her.

She waved frantically, grinning like she’d just met Selena Gomez.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” Hunter stood up. From behind the

computer, where Julie and Cory were still sitting on their couch, he
mouthed, “Wanna join me?”

Hunter smirked as he said it and tilted his head. He was sexy as

fuck and completely knew how hot he was.

“Give me a sec,” Steve said, but he couldn’t seem to force his

eyes away from Hunter and back to Julie and Cory on the screen.

Do you have to go? Julie signed.
No. I’m fine. Steve tried to smile and pretend he wasn’t getting a

stiffy.

Hunter pulled off his shirt. He was sweaty from his workout, and

the smell of him filled the room. With a wicked grin on his face, he
unbuttoned his shorts. They were some sort of polyester blend, more
made for tennis than gym workouts. But their unusual style meant
they had a zipper, which Hunter could pull down slowly, revealing
bright red briefs underneath.

Big brother? Julie had a weird look on her face. You look like you

want to go after him.

Steve rubbed his hand over his face. Shit, he wished he could

ignore Hunter. But he didn’t want Hunter to stop his show.

Maybe I should get going.
Hunter stood with his arms crossed and his legs planted apart, the

look on his face wicked and determined. It was like he knew Steve
would come over any second. He was just waiting for Steve to crawl
over and nuzzle that spot, right at the head of his cock, where the red
cotton was burgundy with dampness.

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Steve had never done anything like crawl—at least not since the

alley—but he wanted to now. There was a sense of rightness in that
moment, as if this were what he was born to do. Like, all he wanted in
the whole world was to take care of Hunter. Give him everything he
needed.

Goodbye, Big Brother, Julie signed. Have fun. Then the image cut

off.

Steve swallowed. He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his

life. But his heart was beating so fast he needed to slow it down. “So.”
His voice cracked, so he coughed. “What exactly are you hoping I’ll
do?” He tried to smile, tried to laugh, tried to make it a joke.

But Hunter just smirked, not saying anything at all.
He didn’t need to, because as if in a trance, Steve slid off the

couch to the floor, crawled around the table on his knees, and kissed
Hunter’s dick through his briefs. He was going to do this, whatever
this was. Because Steve couldn’t imagine anyone or anything he
wanted more.

* * * *

Hunter scraped his hands through Steve’s hair, positioning his

head. He listened to the way that made Steve moan. He pumped into
Steve’s mouth, slow and hard and steady.

Steve was still in what he’d worn to sleep, looking crumpled and

stubbly and sleep-worn. His face as he blew Hunter was gorgeous—
nose, cheeks, and the top of his chest ruddy with a blush. His dick was
tenting the front of his shorts.

Even though Hunter had used a lot of guys like this—and yeah, it

had been “used,” but that didn’t mean the guys hadn’t enjoyed it—
he’d never really wanted it before.

Every last guy Hunter had hooked up with before Steve had

wanted Hunter to top them—not just in bed, but in damn near

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everything. They wanted him to think for them and act for them. And
it was easy enough to do, but Hunter always felt like they were taking.

Service top. That was how most guys made him feel. Like sex was

a job as much as politics. And his role was given to him at birth and
he didn’t have any choice.

But Steve…
He made Hunter want to be that guy. Not the guy who was a

douche to dudes that blew him, but the one who could make a guy
lose it completely. Because Hunter could do that. He was good at it,
even though he’d never actively tried. And it certainly wasn’t his
sexual prowess. Being with Steve had taught him that. Hunter was
nowhere near as good in bed as Steve was.

But being a top wasn’t always about skill, no more than being a

leader was.

Hunter clutched a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled him off.
Steve looked up at him with dark, desperate eyes. His mouth wet

and open. He asked with his the intensity of his gaze, and Hunter
didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to fuck you now. Before my shower.”

Steve swallowed, his cheeks and chest flushing.
“And we’re not stopping. So you might want to get that thought

out of your head.”

Steve’s nostrils flared on a sharp breath, but he nodded. His

expression was lost, like he was drowning, and only Hunter could
save him.

“Shorts off, on the bed, on your back. Touch your dick, and I

won’t fuck you.”

In a rush of movement, Steve scrabbled off the floor and into the

bedroom.

Hunter assumed Steve was doing what he’d told him, but he

didn’t look to check. Instead, he folded his clothes, finished his water.
Then poured himself a glass of orange juice. After adding a couple ice
cubes and taking a sip, he wandered into the bedroom.

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His dick was hard as a rock, but it was too much fun to make

Steve wait.

And Steve looked like quite the picture, splayed out, his knees

bent and his face flushed.

The backs of his thighs were as hairy as his chest. It made Hunter

grin.

“Give me a sec.” He grabbed lube and a condom out of the

bathroom and got on the bed.

Steve was shaking, his dick purple at the head and weeping, his

face wild.

But he didn’t say anything, which Hunter really liked.
Hunter lubed up a couple fingers and pushed them into Steve’s

hole. Then added some more lube and pressed it in quickly—no
seduction. No charm. He was pretty sure Steve didn’t want either.

He knew if he let any sort of second guessing creep in, Steve

might back down.

And Steve wanted it—so much he was trembling. Hunter wasn’t

going to steal this away from Steve just to give him a selfish kiss.

In a quick roll of latex, Hunter was suited up, and he climbed up

to poise his dick at Steve’s entrance. He grabbed Steve behind the
thighs and bent him double. Then he cocked his body to the right
angle and started pressing inside. “So, Steve Camden.” Hunter
smirked. “This is the part where you scream my name.”

* * * *

Steve hated him at that moment. Hated him and loved the fuck out

of him. Hunter could have been paying the dry cleaner, that’s how
much emotion he showed as he bore into Steve’s ass. He didn’t blink,
or sigh, or anything, just watched Steve with this unbelievably
haughty expression on his face. And Steve would have let him do
anything, fuck any hole he wanted.

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“God, God, God.” It was a stretch, but not as bad as the time

before. Steve’s whole body felt like jelly, he was shivering so hard.

Hunter slid home, and then drew back, almost all the way out,

before slamming forward. “That’s nice. But you know what I want to
hear.” Again, that voice was calm and cool, like answering questions
at a press conference. It made Steve so horny he thought he’d
explode.

“Fuck. God. Hunter. Shit.” Steve arched, trying to get his cock

against Hunter’s belly. He needed some pressure there, thought he go
nuts without it.

“Hm. Not sure that’s good enough.” Hunter pounded a series of

hard thrusts that made Steve press his eyes closed, his mouth opening
on a scream.

“C’mon, please.” Steve needed to touch his cock. It was too

intense without it, and he was too close to coming.

“Please, what?” Hunter cocked his head.
“Fuck, please, Hunter. Please, please, please.” With his every

plea, Hunter fucked him harder, until Steve was a blathering mess, his
dick waving helplessly, smearing pre-cum around Hunter’s belly.

Maybe he could come just from being fucked. It sure felt like he

was there.

“Okay, fine.” Hunter sighed, sounding very put upon. The only

sign that Hunter was winded at all was the single drop of sweat on his
temple. But he didn’t wipe it away. “Y’know people say I’m spoiled.”
He spat in his hand and then wrapped it around Steve’s dick.

“God, I’m gonna…” Steve dragged in breaths. He was losing his

fucking mind. It was gathering in the base of his dick and was going
to fly right out the top of his head.

“I know, darling.” Hunter rubbed him harder, fucking him in

rough strokes completely at odds with the calm of his voice.

“Fu…” He bucked into Hunter’s hand, felt the warm splatter of

cum across his chest, his belly.

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That was mixed in with the undeniable feeling of Hunter getting

harder, bigger, stretching his ass with his every thrust.

Steve wiped away that trickle of sweat. Watched as Hunter closed

his eyes. For a split second, Hunter opened his mouth and lost
himself. He shivered soundlessly, and Steve could feel the heat of him
spill, even through the condom.

“Hunter,” he said his name again, wanting to say it over and over.

Funny, because Hunter had been so distanced the whole time, but
Steve had never felt closer to anyone in his life.

“Yeah?” Hunter was out of breath now, panting a little after his

orgasm.

Steve had just realized they hadn’t kissed the whole time. Yet,

somehow that had been perfect, too. “I love you. I know you don’t
feel that way. But I wanted to tell you—”

“Hey.” Hunter rubbed Steve’s jaw. Then he kissed Steve’s lips.

“Whatever I feel…” He shook his head. “You’re my first boyfriend
ever. My first everything that matters.” Hunter gripped the base of the
condom and pulled out. Then he tossed it into the trash, and came
back to the bed with a towel. He acted like the conversation was over.

And that was okay with Steve. He’d just had the greatest orgasm

of his life. But there was one thing Steve needed to get straight. “I
don’t want you seeing other people. Not while we’re together.”

“Not even if we share?” Hunter winked, reminding Steve that

when they weren’t in bed, Hunter was by far the less serious one.

“I don’t think I’d be up for that.”
Hunter sighed dramatically. It was clear he was just messing

around. “Fine. But you’re going to have to put out extra in that case.
I’m a man with needs.”

Steve’s body tightened, and his hole ached at the thought of going

again any time soon. But still, the way Hunter had said it, like he
didn’t give a shit, made Steve want to blow him and bend over for
him, then wash Hunter’s feet and do it all again.

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“I can do that.” Again, he was overtaken with the urge to add “sir”

to the end. But this time, there would be no doubt as to the BDSM
subtext.

Steve thought maybe he liked it.

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Chapter Eight:

Illinois

Steve breathed deeper as he looked out his hotel room window at

the Chicago cityscape. It wasn’t home, but it was a lot closer, both
physically and psychologically, to New York.

Behind him, Hunter was stretched out on the bed, reading

something on his phone. “Will you come with me at four fifteen to
talk to my uncle?” He didn’t look up from his screen.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve hadn’t spoken directly to the governor in

more than a week. “Did he ask to talk to you about something?”

He crossed the few steps to his room’s king-sized bed and sat

down next to Hunter.

Hunter was still wearing his suit from the luncheon that day. He

hadn’t bothered changing, since there was a meet and greet with the
mayor at six. “No. I asked to talk to him.”

“Huh.” Steve was surprised. He thought Hunter would go to any

lengths to avoid talking to his uncle.

“Yeah.” Hunter put down his phone and gave Steve an eye roll. “I

was a little shocked he’s giving me the time. But after what happened
with Jed, I bet he’s paranoid some other shoe is going to drop.”

Steve felt a grin curl the corner of his lips. “Espionage. The gift

that keeps on giving.” He bent to kiss Hunter’s neck. But as he did, he
saw the time on Hunter’s phone. “Shit. It’s three forty-five already.”

“Yeah.” Hunter rolled to his side and climbed off the bed. His

clothes didn’t seem to be obeying him and were getting wrinkled now
that they were past the halfway point on the campaign. Or maybe

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Hunter just wasn’t bothering anymore to do whatever it was he had
been doing before to stay looking so perfect. “We should go.”

“Okay.” Steve looked down at his own ensemble. He was dressed

business casual, but no better. He guessed that would have to do.

“You look fine.” Hunter stepped in front of him, close enough that

their bodies touched. He leaned in to give Steve a kiss—still smelling
like the airplane, but with lips that were soft and sweet. He pulled
away too soon. “C’mon.”

Steve peered around the room, feeling like he should bring

something to shield himself. Like his briefcase, or a jacket. He settled
for shoving his room key, phone, and wallet into his pocket.

At least if he were dragged out by security he’d be able to call a

cab and pay for it to take him to the airport.

The hotel was giant and laid out like a maze. The central section

was open, and there was a skylight letting sun into what Steve
guessed was supposed to be a courtyard. But the stairways and
elevators were all polished metal instead of glass. It felt like being
inside a giant mechanical insect.

Governor Ford’s room was on the top floor, and security guards

stood at the elevators as well as by the governor’s door. Hunter
walked past them with a wave, and Steve nodded solemnly to the
guys he’d gotten to know along the tour.

By the time Hunter knocked on the door, Steve’s nerves twisted

into a knot. He hated the governor. Hated him with a bitterness he’d
never really felt before. To stand by and do nothing while a child was
abused, solely to maintain power? Steve couldn’t imagine being that
dead inside.

Well, he could actually—because he’d seen Hunter at the start of

the tour. Hunter had been doing his best to hollow himself out just
like his uncle. Steve just hoped he never felt like he had to do that to
himself again.

Someone opened the door from inside. It was one of Governor

Ford’s staff, though Steve didn’t know the girl’s name.

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“You ready?” Hunter asked. His hand twitched nervously at his

side.

Steve leaned into him, making it so their bodies brushed as they

cleared the door. It would have looked to an outsider like an accident,
but he wanted to remind Hunter that he was by his side.

The governor’s suite contained a large sitting room, presumably

attached to the bedroom. Chase Ford was standing next to a small
desk. He crossed his arms when he saw Hunter approach.

Steve hid his grin by pretending to scratch his nose. He loved that

he and Hunter had managed to put the vice-presidential candidate on
the defensive.

“Hunter, I have only a few minutes. What have you gotten

yourself into now?”

Hunter looked over his shoulder at the staff member by the door.

She took the hint and stepped silently outside.

“It’s more like, ‘What am I getting myself out of.’” Hunter went

to the couch and sat.

Steve wondered if he was supposed to do the same, but looking at

the insouciant way Hunter crossed his legs, Steve decided not to
bother. He could never pull off that kind of arrogance. Though, he had
to admit, on Hunter it looked sexy as hell.

“I’ve decided to stop going on campaigns after this tour. So, on

the off chance your ticket manages to win this election, do not call me
again in four years.” Hunter leaned back farther into the cushion,
looking around as if he wondered why refreshments hadn’t been
served to him by thin air.

Steve saw a mini fridge in the corner, with a case of sparkling

water and some glasses on a small table at the side. He walked over to
get him some water.

At some point, back when he’d started working at this job, Steve

would never have gotten Hunter a drink. Not even if he asked nicely.
But now Steve realized—he loved taking care of Hunter. More than

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that, he sort of got off on it. By the time he placed the glass into
Hunter’s outstretched hand, he was starting to get a boner.

“That’s not an option, Hunter. You know you only receive your

retainer on the condition that you appear at state functions,” the
governor said gruffly.

Steve wondered for a second what the governor was talking about.

Then he realized—he meant Hunter’s allowance.

“That’s true. Which is why, after you transfer the gift you

promised to pay me for this campaign, I won’t be getting my retainer
any longer.” Hunter watched his uncle with a steady gaze, the way
one might a wild animal or a rabid dog.

Chase frowned. “You can’t do that.”
“What?” Hunter took a sip of his water and then calmly set it on

the side table. “Take your money? If you want to keep sending checks
once I’m no longer in contact, I’ll be happy to keep cashing them.”

“You can’t…What, you mean you want to break all ties with the

family?” Chase’s eyes were wide with shock. “Why on earth would
you want to do that?”

Hunter smiled coldly. “If you have to ask, dear uncle, you’ll never

understand.”

Chase leaned back against the desk, obviously trying to appear as

calm as Hunter. “What if I refuse to gift you the money for this tour?”

Steve had forgotten about that—how Hunter and Chase’s

agreement has been for a “gift,” technically, instead of pay. That way,
Chase wouldn’t have to pay taxes on the money.

“Well, then I’ll call one of the news stations and tell them how Jed

molested me all through eighth grade, and how the man running for
vice president told me to keep it quiet.”

To Steve’s surprise, Hunter didn’t wait for Chase’s reaction. He

stood from the couch and downed the rest of his glass of water. Then
he turned to Steve and gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Mr.
Camden.” He nodded at the glass, signifying that he meant to thank

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Steve for getting him the water. But Steve got Hunter’s meaning.
Hunter meant “thanks for everything.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Chase followed Hunter to

the door. He touched Hunter’s shoulder, but Hunter spun around,
throwing him off.

“Did you need something else, Governor Ford?” Hunter’s eyes

were so cold they froze the blood in Steve’s veins. His expression was
haughty and furious, but completely contained all at the same time.
And Steve couldn’t tell if it was more frightening or sexy.

“No.” Chase pulled back a step. He looked at the floor, cowed by

Hunter’s anger.

Hunter pulled open the door. “Well, if you think of something,

feel free to contact Steve here.” He waved his hand, as if dismissing
his uncle and waving Steve to come along all in one quick move.

“By the way,” Hunter called over his shoulders. “Have your

accountant transfer those funds by October 1

.” There was the ghost

of a smirk on Hunter’s face, though he was obviously trying to seem
emotionless for the various staff members. “And make sure to thank
him for me. Chester’s always been so nice.”

He darted a look at Steve, one that made Steve feel like his clothes

were going to burn right off his skin. To his uncle, he said, “Good
help is so hard to find.”

* * * *

“Wear something nice.” Hunter watched as Steve, standing in his

briefs and undershirt, leafed through his closet.

The press conference had ended right on time, and even though

Hunter was tired from his day, he couldn’t wait to take Steve out.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” Steve pulled out a

dark suit. It was charcoal colored, almost black. And Hunter knew
from seeing him wearing it before that he’d pair it with a crisp white

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shirt and black tie. The contrast would do sexy, sharp things to his
hair and eyes, making him look mysterious in addition to handsome.

“That’s because it’s a surprise.” Hunter checked his appearance in

the mirror, making sure he was as well turned out as Steve. He’d worn
the Dior that he could tell Steve liked him in. He’d seen Steve
checking out his ass in that suit the very first time he wore it.

“Is it the opera?”
Hunter winced. “Oh, hell, no. I’d wait until you came to Italy for

that.” Then he walked up to where Steve was straightening his collar
and grabbed Steve’s tie. “Here. I’ll do that.”

Steve took an audible breath. A vein in his neck danced as he

lifted his chin. “You don’t have to do that,” he whispered.

“I know.” Hunter wrapped his tie around his collar and fed it over

itself into a Windsor knot. He tightened it up to Steve’s neck, feeling
the heat of Steve’s body and the warmth of Steve’s breath.

But Steve didn’t say anything, and he held perfectly still. That’s

how Hunter knew what Steve wanted.

“Let’s go.” Hunter stepped away and grabbed his wallet and cell

phone. All business, he went to the door. He was unsurprised when
Steve followed in silence.

They didn’t say anything in the elevator, but the tension between

them built nonetheless. Hunter couldn’t wait to get off Steve’s
clothes, to make him grunt and sweat and shout. Of course, the
shouting probably couldn’t happen. Not with what Hunter had
planned.

The limousine was waiting for them at the door. Hunter waved

Steve to go in first. And by the time Hunter climbed in and the door
was shut behind him by a helpful parking attendant, Steve was sitting
across from him, his lips wet and his cheeks flushed. He looked horny
as hell and completely fuckable.

“Where should I tell him we’re going?” Steve asked.
Hunter normally let Steve give the driver directions.
“He knows the way,” Hunter said. “Don’t you, Eduardo?”

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“Yes, sir,” the driver said. He had a deep, rich voice, and Hunter

knew he had a face and body to match, since he’d handpicked the
man to be their driver. “Right away.” There was a sexy laugh in
Eduardo’s voice, and Hunter could tell that Steve was affected by it,
because he shifted in his seat as if he were getting hard.

Hunter pressed the button to raise the window that divided the

driver from the back section of the limousine. When it was done
buzzing closed, he pulled the bottle of champagne out of the bucket of
ice set into the armrest. There were two champagne glasses positioned
in the cupholders by his seat, and he poured a glass for himself and
one for Steve.

“Here.” He held out Steve’s drink, but didn’t lean forward.
Steve didn’t move. Instead, he remained in his seat, his chest

rising and falling as he breathed. “You want me to come over to get
it?”

There was about four feet of space between where Steve was

sitting, facing the back of the car, and Hunter was seated facing front.
But that distance seemed too much for Steve to cross. So Hunter
helped him. “Don’t you want to?”

Steve looked away. His cheeks went even darker, as if maybe he

was angry in addition to being turned on. “I will if you want me to.”

Then he darted Hunter a look so open and vulnerable if made

Hunter’s chest ache. “You know I’ll do anything you like.”

Hunter set down Steve’s glass in the cupholder and leaned back in

his seat. He crossed one ankle over the opposite knee and took a sip of
his champagne. He let the moment take all the time it needed. And
when he felt Steve was ready for him to ask, Hunter said, “What do
you want?”

“Um…” Steve rubbed at his chin. He was smooth there, Hunter

knew. He’d shaved right before they left.

Hunter wanted to touch that soft skin. Feel those little sandpaper

spots he always missed at the corners of his jaw. “Do you want me to
bring you your drink?” Hunter loosened his tie, shrugged off his

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jacket. He opened the top button of his shirt, so Steve knew what he
was getting at. “To undress you slowly and suck your cock while we
drive around the city?”

Steve blinked, but he couldn’t seem to look away. This time,

when he shifted, there was an unmistakable crease marring the front
of his designer pants. “Maybe,” he said. He gripped the seat. “What
are my options?”

Hunter thought about that. He took another sip of his drink,

feeling the bubbles pop in his mouth and listening to the sound of
Steve’s breathing, audible even over the noise of the street outside.

He lifted his chin, and gave Steve that look he knew Steve liked.

The one where his lip was twisted into almost a scowl and his eyes
were narrowed. “Or you can come fetch your drink and do what I tell
you like a good boy.”

Hunter didn’t let an ounce of pity slip into his expression. He just

watched Steve calmly, wondering which way he would go.

* * * *

“I don’t normally…” Steve let the sentence trail off. He wasn’t

even sure what he meant. He didn’t normally want to act like
someone’s sex slave? He wasn’t normally a sub, or even a bottom?
He wanted to explain to Hunter or apologize. But fuck—he wanted
what Hunter was offering so badly.

Yeah, a blow job in a limo sounded great. Who wouldn’t want

that, right? But what Hunter was suggesting…Was it wrong that it
sounded better?

“I know you don’t.” Hunter stared across the expanse between

them with stern gray eyes. They looked amazing with that suit. Like
steel dipped in silver. And even though he’d opened the top couple
buttons of his shirt now, and his tie was hanging loosely by his belly,
he still looked sexy as fuck. “But it’s okay to want it now.”

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Shit. Shit. Shit. Steve was so turned on he could barely see

straight. His cock pounded in time with his heart. He wasn’t even
aware that he’d gotten off his seat and walked on his knees over to
where Hunter was sitting until Hunter touched his chin.

“Hey.” Hunter tilted Steve’s face, looked in his eyes. His smile

was slow and thawed the coldness in his eyes.

Steve felt like he had turned to putty.
“I’m going to do you, now,” Hunter said. Then he handed Steve

his champagne glass. “Drink.”

The glass felt cool against Steve’s heated lips. And the champagne

tasted sharp and sweet and good. Steve handed it back, letting Hunter
put it back in its holder. He didn’t want to leave his spot, sitting on his
heels by Hunter’s feet.

“I like this tie on you.” Hunter tugged Steve’s tie down a short

way. He kissed Steve once, quickly and not giving Steve a chance to
kiss back. Then, with a glint in his eyes, he tugged Steve’s tie out of
his collar and flipped it around, pressing the long section across
Steve’s mouth.

“Here. Bite down.”
Steve opened his mouth. Felt silk, smooth but unyielding, against

his tongue. He did what Hunter said, but around his mouthful, he
asked, “Won’t it get wet?”

Hunter smiled as he unhooked Steve’s belt and began unfastening

Steve’s pants. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

He palmed Steve’s dick through the cotton of his briefs, and Steve

had to admit that at that moment he didn’t give a fuck if he chewed
right through his damn tie.

“I’m going to fuck you. In case you hadn’t figured that out yet,”

Hunter said. He was completely calm and looking more at Steve’s
chest than his eyes. Still, he kept up his rough tugging on Steve’s
shaft.

Steve huffed a little moan, glad to have something in his mouth to

stop him from being louder. God, he wanted it so badly. But there was

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a driver only feet away. And the city lights were passing outside,
faded by the dark windows.

Hunter studied Steve’s face for a second, like he was

reconsidering his plan.

But before Hunter could change his mind, Steve nodded. He tried

to say, “Please,” but around the tie in his mouth, it came out sounding
like, “Eess.”

“Okay.” Hunter rolled his eyes a little, like he was making fun of

Steve, but kindly. “You’re so much trouble sometimes.”

Steve didn’t know why, but Hunter’s scolding got him even

harder. Hunter wasn’t even touching him anymore, but Steve felt like
every inch of his body was tingling.

“Now, I’m not going to ruin my tie or go to the trouble of tying up

your hands. That’s far too much work.” Hunter leaned back in his seat
again. He took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down. With a
put-upon sigh, he said, “So you’re going to have to hold yourself
still.”

Oh, my God. Steve felt like he was going to come on the spot. He

wanted Hunter so badly he would have done anything he wanted.
Even bend over right on the hood of the car.

“Good. Well, then, I guess I’ll have to give you your present.”

There was only the tiniest hint of a grin to show how happy Hunter
was. “Go back to your side and take down your pants.”

Sweat broke out on Steve’s brow. If he was leaning over the rear-

facing bench he’d be right behind the driver. Not that he was far away
from the guy now, but…

He nodded. Though his pants were open, they were still far

enough up his legs he could get across to his side easily enough.
When he was facing the front of the car, Steve bent forward and
rested his cheek on the seat. The smell of the bench’s leather filled his
nose.

He reached back and lowered his pants over his ass and partway

down his thighs.

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Hunter made him wait. Fuck. Of course he did.
Steve felt more naked than he ever had in his life. He could hear

cars rushing by on the highway outside. City lights flashed, even
through the dulling of the windows. And the back of his thighs felt
cool and shivery, since they were the only part of his body exposed.

Then Hunter was behind him. He didn’t waste any movements,

just grabbed the tie on either side behind Steve’s head and pulled it
tight across Steve’s mouth. His other hand went to Steve’s ass. And
he must have brought lube because the fingers on Steve’s pucker were
cool and slippery.

Hunter tugged so that Steve was forced to lift his head off the seat.

And at the same time, he shoved two fingers into Steve’s ass—so
quickly that if it hadn’t been for the tie across his mouth, Steve might
have yelled.

“That’s good.” Hunter worked Steve’s ass open, his fingers

probing deep, fucking in a slow, maddening rhythm. He pulled away
when Steve still wasn’t sure he was ready. And then his dick was at
Steve’s ass, poised to spear inside.

Steve breathed hard through his nose. His hard cock strained

forward, as if it were trying to touch the seat’s buttery leather. But
Hunter kept Steve far enough back that his dick just waved in the air,
his wet cap occasionally brushing the tails of his dress shirt.

“Sit back, darling.” Hunter sat on his heels, and with a hand on

Steve’s hip, he pulled Steve backwards, until Steve was balanced,
with no choice but to sit on Hunter’s cock.

He muttered something garbled and helpless against his gag.

Steve gripped the leather for something to steady himself. He felt
Hunter’s chest at his back. And he tried to relax as Hunter dragged
him back, back.

It burned—Hunter’s dick searing him open, stretching him full.

And then Hunter tugged on the tie so that Steve’s head jerked.

Hunter pressed kisses into Steve’s neck, his jaw, his cheek. He

wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist, holding him tight while he

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thrust upward. “I’m going to do you fast. And you’re not going to
come.” It wasn’t a question.

Steve couldn’t have handled it if it was a question. He would have

broken down and cried out. But the way Hunter said it—with
determined calmness—made Steve feel like he was floating on a sea
of bliss.

He nodded as best he could. “Uh-huh.”
“Good.” Hunter reached down and gripped Steve’s cock,

measuring his girth, his hardness. He hummed appreciatively in
Steve’s ear, but then let go and pressed Steve forward to lean over the
seat.

Hunter slammed forward. Then again. He snapped his hips at a

vicious tempo, never grunting or moaning, or doing anything to
suggest what he was feeling.

But he gripped Steve’s hip a little too hard, and tugged Steve’s

mouth a little too tightly. And he fucked entirely too fast—burning
Steve from the inside until he felt like he was going to die if he
couldn’t come.

His cock was full and sensitive. He could feel the pre-cum

dripping from the tip. Cold lube coated Steve’s balls, making the
heated skin quiver every time Hunter pulled back.

And his ass was stretched and aching around Hunter’s thrusts. It

was almost too much, almost so Steve couldn’t take it. But then
Hunter was bucking harder, his fingernails scraping Steve’s skin. And
his cock was hard as bone.

Hunter held still. He shook ever so slightly and made a small

sound. Like a mix between a snarl and hiss.

Steve loved him so much. Loved, loved, loved.
“Okay, then.” Hunter pulled out and moved away.
There was a long moment when Steve just panted, waiting to be

told what to do. His cock was still bobbing, and he needed…he didn’t
even know what.

“Come over here,” Hunter said.

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Steve lifted off the seat. Wiping his hand across his face, he

turned around.

Hunter was back in his seat. His clothes were uncreased, and his

ankle was crossed over the opposite knee. He sipped his champagne
as if nothing had just happened. Steve’s nose and eyes filled with
fluid. He sniffled around the tie and knee-walked the few feet to
where Hunter was seated.

It was a lot harder than the previous times he’d done it because his

pants were trapping his knees.

“Stop there,” Hunter said when Steve had gotten halfway. Then,

tilting his head like he was thinking, Hunter smiled. “You can jerk off
now.”

Steve darted a look at the windows, to the city still rushing by.

Suddenly, he was aware of everything around him. Of how he was
naked, lube slippery between the cheeks of his ass, his erection
pulsing obscenely between his legs. And he was completely alone.

Except he wasn’t. He had Hunter. And even though Hunter was

watching him with detached disinterest, Steve knew he was doing it
because it was exactly what Steve wanted. What he needed with every
fiber of his being.

He wrapped a hand around his base, gripping hard. Steve closed

his eyes and moaned around his gag, which was hanging loosely in
his mouth and tickling his cheeks and neck.

“Come on, already. I don’t have all day.” Hunter smirked. “Show

me. I want to see how pretty your cock looks when it comes.”

Steve couldn’t even touch his tip—it was so sensitive. He rubbed

in quick pulls, looking into Hunter’s eyes the whole time. But it was
too intense. Cum gathered in his root, making him shiver as he fought
to come and not to come. Steve wanted to stay like he was forever, his
ass and dick on display for Hunter and balanced on the edge of losing
his mind.

“Now, darling,” Hunter snapped.

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And Steve couldn’t stop it. He curled forward, his orgasm

smashing into him from behind and his semen bubbling out his cock
to cover his hand. He used both palms to stop the fluid from shooting
all over his clothes.

He panted, trying to catch his breath. Both his hands were

clutched between his legs and Steve was shaking so hard he didn’t
think he was ever going to be able to stop.

Steve couldn’t look up and meet Hunter’s amused eyes. He just

couldn’t. There was a moment where he thought about telling Hunter
to look away so he could get cleaned up with some dignity.

But then Hunter was on his knees, and he pressed a handkerchief

into Steve’s hands. He kissed Steve’s neck, gently wiping off Steve’s
fingers at the same time. Hunter stayed close, his face or lips or
cheeks nuzzled into Steve’s shoulder. He lifted and then fastened
Steve’s pants.

When he was done, Hunter pulled back far enough to look at

Steve.

And now that Steve was dressed again, he was able to meet that

gaze.

“Here.” Softly, gently, Hunter pulled the tie out of Steve’s mouth.

Then he petted Steve’s face, never breaking the contact of their eyes.

“I…” Steve couldn’t even say the words, because they felt like

they would tear his heart right in half.

Hunter blinked, looking like he was about to cry himself. “Fuck, I

love you so damn much.”

Steve leaned forward, easing their lips together, and Hunter kissed

him back with a sigh and a soft laugh.

Their tongues tangled. Hunter wove his hands into Steve’s hair.

Steve grabbed Hunter’s sides, and pulled him closer. But they didn’t
get off their knees. Not for a long time. Not until they’d kissed so
long Steve didn’t know where he ended and Hunter began. Not until
Steve had told Hunter he loved him, too.

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Chapter Nine:

North Carolina

While the plane was still on the runway, the governor stood from

his seat. He made his way their direction.

“Lovely,” Hunter said, though he didn’t look up from his

computer. “Wonder what he’s coming to talk about.”

Steve hadn’t spoken to the governor since Hunter and he had had

their showdown.

“Hunter,” Governor Chase said over Steve’s head, since Steve

was in the aisle seat. “I didn’t have a chance to say thank you before.”
He looked insanely uncomfortable. “You did a great job. Um…after
everything.”

“I know.” Hunter gave him a smile that was all teeth. Then he

grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled it into his lap. To Steve’s horror,
Hunter turned to him. “It’s all thanks to my man here.”

Steve blinked. Sweat broke out under his clothes. Suddenly, he

couldn’t wait to get airborne. “Um…thanks.” Then he turned to the
governor and tried to stammer out something that wouldn’t make him
sound like a complete idiot. “It was an honor.”

The governor stared at their joined hands as if they might explode.

“Oh. Well, I didn’t realize.” He didn’t turn to Steve, just said the
words into the airplane’s stuffy recycled air. “Well, have a good trip
home.” He spun around to get back to his seat.

“Of course, sir.”
Furious, Steve turned to Hunter. “What the fuck?” He pulled his

hand out of Hunter’s grip. “What are you doing?”

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Hunter rolled his eyes with his usual casual arrogance. “Haven’t

you been saying you want to keep dating after the campaign?”

Steve didn’t see what that had to do with anything. “Yeah, so?”
“And you want me to, what, keep it a secret?”
The airplane shook as it rolled forward, and the captain called

back on the intercom to tell everyone to buckle their seatbelts for
takeoff. Engines screamed, making it difficult for Steve to shout over
the noise. “No. But you don’t...”

Hunter blinked. “I thought we were serious.”
Steve stammered. “We are. I just mean—”
“No, really.” Hunter looked angry. “You don’t get to have it both

ways. My family can find out anything they want whether I tell them
or not. So, are you in or what?”

The sound of his words was almost drowned out by noise as the

airplane slammed up into the sky.

“I am.” Steve was scared, but some thread of steel was winding

through his body, making him stronger. “But…we’ve only been
together a couple weeks. People will talk.” They’d say he and Hunter
were a fling, that Steve was being irresponsible for falling in love so
fast. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell everyone until we’re more settled.”

The plane bounced at a patch of turbulence, and the motor

whined.

“You’re the only guy I’ve ever really cared about,” Hunter

shouted over the noise. “But if you’re going to be in it, you have to go
all in.”

Steve thought about his little apartment in New York, how empty

it was going to be without his sister. Throwing his life in with
Hunter’s scared the shit out of him, but Steve shouted, “I’m in.”

The plane quieted as it hit altitude, and Hunter leaned over to

Steve’s side of the armrest and gave him a hard kiss. The captain was
announcing some stuff on the intercom, but Hunter’s smile was so
bright that Steve couldn’t help but raise his voice to say, “I love you
so fucking much.”

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And of course, the intercom went dead right at that moment, and

Steve’s shouted “love you” echoed through the private plane.

It was met with dead silence. Steve’s ears rung with how quiet it

was all of a sudden. He looked to Hunter for something, anything, to
stop him feeling like he was twisting in the wind.

Hunter smirked, and for a second Steve thought he was going to

leave Steve alone to deal with his embarrassment.

But then Hunter announced, loudly enough to carry through the

plane, “I love you, too.”

There was a moment of silence, but then someone at the back of

the plane hooted. He heard Natalie’s voice from the back, shouting,
“About time!”

Someone started clapping, and then other people joined in. Steve

was blushing so hard it felt like his ears were on fire. But Hunter had
put on his sunglasses and was leaning back in his seat, obviously
enjoying the applause.

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Epilogue

Steve unzipped his jacket. Florence was cooler than he’d thought

it would be, and though he had a heavier sweater in his suitcase, he
hadn’t bothered taking it out when he’d gotten off his plane.

He rang the doorbell in front of the squat building. It was

terracotta brick and looked hundreds of years old. But the buzzer was
high-end and modern.

“I’m on the fourth floor,” was all Hunter said when he buzzed him

in.

Steve breathed harder, his body tingling with anticipation. Shit,

had it only been three weeks since the campaign ended? He already
felt like he was on a different planet from the one where he’d ridden
around in limos and flown on private jets.

He hauled his bag up the four flights of stairs to find Hunter

standing in his doorway. Hunter wore an open white-collared shirt,
neon-green underwear, and a smirk. “Took you long enough to get
here.”

“My plane was delayed.” He set down his bag right inside the

door. Steve got a glimpse of the apartment—chic white furniture,
antique lamps—before Hunter was all over him, shoving hands under
his shirt and unbuckling his pants.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Hunter kissed Steve’s bare

shoulder, up to his neck, under his ear. When he finally got to Steve’s
mouth, Steve kissed him back as hard as he could.

Hunter tasted better than he remembered, like wine and hunger.

He smelled like some new spicy cologne—exotic yet familiar. “Me,

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too.” Steve pushed the shirt off Hunter’s shoulders, crowded him back
into the room. “Where’s the bed?”

“Over here.” Hunter grabbed Steve by the front of his pants and

pulled him across a living room and through a door to where a bed
was made up with white sheets and about a dozen throw pillows.

“Nice.” Steve barely had time to take in the room before Hunter

pushed him backward onto the bed and climbed on top.

He kissed Steve while shoving his pants off and then hitched one

of Steve’s legs up over his shoulder to grind them together. When
their cocks touched, Hunter arched back, his eyes closed in pleasure.

Damn, he was gorgeous. And wild. Steve loved the way Hunter

got all cold and bossy. It got him so stiff he could barely move. But
this was a side of Hunter he missed—the wild and decadent side. The
way he knew Hunter could act now that he never had to go on a
campaign tour again. And now that he was in a foreign country where
the American media couldn’t touch him.

“You gonna fuck me already?” They could go down on each other

and play and touch all night. Hell, all month. Steve was calling his
time in Italy a business expense.

“Gosh, I have spoiled you rotten.” Hunter kept thrusting over him,

all need and want and passion.

Steve couldn’t believe how much heat there was under all that ice.
Hunter fumbled on the nightstand for lube and a condom. “Can’t

wait until we don’t have to use these.” He ripped open the foil and
slipped it on.

“Yeah, me neither.” They’d agreed to get tested together when it

had been long enough since Hunter’s last sexual partner.

Steve gasped when Hunter pushed into him. It had only been a

few weeks, but he could have used a little more prep.

“Sorry.” Hunter thrust. “Got too excited.” He bucked again, his

very skin bursting with energy.

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All Steve could do was wrap his arms around Hunter and hold on

tight. “S’okay.” He bit his lip as Hunter fucked him in earnest. “God,
it’s so good.”

Hunter let go of his leg so they were pressed close and Steve’s

cock was trapped between their bellies, getting licked by the sweat
between them.

“I’m gonna…” He couldn’t stop. It had been too long, and he’d

missed Hunter too much. And the relief that they were still together,
even after the campaign was over, was too sharp for him to wait.

“Yeah, me, too.” Hunter pounded into him with no restraint, just

naked need. He curled in on himself and buried his face in Steve’s
shoulder. When his orgasm hit, Hunter shouted against his skin.

His teeth scraped, and that edge of pain set Steve off so that Steve

clenched and spasmed, opening his mouth on a scream. The window
was open, a cool breeze coming in from the piazza below, and Steve
knew the whole city could hear them gasping.

Hunter collapsed against him, sweat and cum mingling on their

skin. He kept his head pressed to Steve’s shoulder, rubbing his
forehead like he was trying to mark himself with Steve’s smell. “I
missed you,” he said again, as if that surprised him.

Steve grinned. He kissed the top of Hunter’s head. “I missed you,

too.”

“Let’s not do that again,” Hunter murmured into Steve’s neck. He

rolled off, getting rid of the condom as he went. But he returned right
away to Steve’s side and cuddled into the crook of his arm.

“Not do what?” The force of Steve’s jet lag was hitting him in the

wake of his orgasm. He knew he should take a shower before bed, but
all he wanted to do was fall asleep.

“Not be apart. That sucked. I don’t want to do that again.”
Steve chuckled, even though his eyes were barely staying open.

“Not sure if we can do that. Not much work for an image consultant
in Vermont.”

Pride and Politics

143

“Minor details.” Hunter tossed his leg over Steve’s and gave him

a little kick in the calf. “I always get what I want, y’know. So you
may as well do what I say.” He was warm and comfortable, and
sounded as tired as Steve felt.

So Steve decided to let go, closing his eyes to curl around Hunter

for the night. He pecked Hunter’s cheek and whispered in his ear.
“Whatever you want, Sir.”

THE END

WWW.THEDAISYHARRIS.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by

immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn't sure if she writes
erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her
characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris's dismay
the sex tends to get completely out of hand.

She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men

getting their freak on, and she's never missed an episode of The
Walking Dead.

For all titles by Daisy Harris, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/daisy-harris

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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