Chapter 6
Trevor put his coat and shoes inside the entryway closet and quickly scrolled through his emails.
“Your bag is unpacked and the bed is turned down, sir,” said the butler who had walked him to his room. “Is there anything else we can get for you?”
Although he hadn’t stayed in the Jefferson, Trevor had eaten dinner at their restaurant a couple of years earlier and he remembered thinking it was excellent. He slid his phone into his pocket.
“Please send up a couple of meals from Plume. Whatever the chef thinks is best. And a sampling from the dessert menu.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want the sommelier to pair wine with your dinner?”
Knowing Ford didn’t drink much, Trevor shook his head. “Water’s good with dinner. Coffee with dessert.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll use the kitchen entrance and set up the meal in the dining room. Would you like a butler available while you dine?”
“No, just leave the food and we’ll take it from there.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” Trevor handed over a tip, closed the door, and stepped into the powder room. As he used the bathroom and washed his hands, he thought about the man who would be joining him.
Ford was an intriguing mix of savvy and naïve. Nobody could rise as far professionally as the US Congress without knowledge of how to get elected, which was fundamentally knowledge of human nature. And if his own career experience hadn’t taught him what he needed to know, Ford had been raised in a political family, same as Trevor. Those things should have been enough to kill off any wayward idealism, yet Ford still believed in legislating with an eye toward what he viewed as right for the country rather than what was right for his bank account or his ego.
Truly genuine people were a rarity in Trevor’s life, so finding someone who wasn’t angling to use him for his connections or his income was enough to get his attention. And on top of that, Ford was intelligent, driven, handsome, and interesting. Because of the model of marriage Trevor had seen growing up, he didn’t put much stock in relationships, but with someone like Ford Hollingsworth it almost seemed possible. Before he could think too long about that, the knock on the hotel door came, signaling Ford’s arrival.
Opening his top few shirt buttons, Trevor walked to the door and pulled it open. “Hi, honey. Welcome home,” he said jokingly.
“Hi.” Ford stepped inside and shrugged out of his coat.
“Closet’s to your right. Bathroom to your left. I turned down the tour option figuring you’d rather not have company when you got here.”
“Thanks.” Ford ducked his head and opened the closet door. “I’m sorry to do that to you. I haven’t had time to figure things out and…” Ford sighed. He hung his coat and suit jacket up, put his shoes next to Trevor’s, and closed the door. “Anyway. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. I ordered dinner but we probably have a little time before they bring it up so we can explore.”
“It’s a hotel room.” Ford followed Trevor as he walked into the suite. “What is there to exp— Wow. I stand corrected. This isn’t a hotel room. It’s a house. A really fancy house.”
“Looking at the architecture and design in different hotels helps me cope with the constant travel,” Trevor said as he glanced around the living room. Cream walls accented with wood trim, light-colored antiques, and glowing lamps filled the space. “This one isn’t my style, but it’s still fun to see the way they lay things out and their art is stunning.”
Ford leaned over the couch and focused on the pictures lining the wall. “Some of these are vintage maps. Probably originals.”
“Really?” Trevor stepped over until he was hip-to-hip with Ford and then he examined the framed pieces. “I think you’re right. Same with the paintings.”
Nodding, Ford wove his fingers with Trevor’s. “Is that why you haven’t stayed here before? Do you try a new hotel every visit?”
“I do like to mix things up but this is my first time at the Jefferson, because when I’m in DC, I stay at the White House.”
“Makes sense.” Ford glanced to his left. “I can see the dining room’s that way.” He pointed toward the long gleaming wood table and leather armchairs in the adjoining room. “So that means the bedroom’s this way?”
“Let’s find out.” Trevor squeezed Ford’s hand and tugged him forward. “See? This is fun, right?”
“You’re like a little kid.” Ford chuckled and shook his head, but he came along easily. They passed through one set of double doors into a sitting room and another set of doors to get to the bedroom. “A really, really rich little kid.”
“Four poster bed,” Trevor said. He grasped one of the metal posts at the foot of the bed and shook it. “Feels steady.”
“You’re not tying me to a bed so get that thought out of your head right now.”
“Aww, come on.” Trevor turned toward Ford and tugged on his bowtie. “We can use this. It’ll be fun.”
“I’m starting to think you have a tie fetish.”
“The tie isn’t my fetish, tying guys up is. But I forgot my rope at home,” Trevor said, deadpan. When Ford’s smile faded and his eyes widened, Trevor laughed. “I’m joking. I like my sex without props.” He wrapped his arms around Ford, clutched his ass, and squeezed his cheeks as he yanked him forward. Lowering his voice, he ground against Ford and said, “But that headboard is a great height.”
“Yeah. It’s a, uh, good headboard.” Ford darted his gaze to the headboard, swallowed hard, and licked his lips. “You said we have a little time before dinner. I should take a shower if you want to…”
The red spots on the apples of Ford’s cheeks along with his inability to finish a sentence meant he was remembering what Trevor had suggested on their drive to the hotel.
“Eat your ass while you sit on my face?” Trevor said, finishing Ford’s thought.
Ford dropped his forehead onto Trevor’s shoulder. “That sounds even dirtier when you say it in this high-brow room.”
“Dirtier?” Trevor flicked his tongue over Ford’s earlobe as he slid his hand between them and groped the erection pushing up against the front of Ford’s slacks. “Mmm. Nice.” He bit the fleshy portion of Ford’s ear. “I take it this means you like dirty.”
“Not usually.” Ford turned his head and kissed Trevor’s neck. “I don’t even cuss much. But somehow you make a three thousand dollar suit and a filthy mouth work together.”
“I’ve been upgraded from dirty to filthy. That’s a lot of pressure to live up to.” Trevor loosened Ford’s tie. “Do you always wear bowties?”
“Yeah. Weird quirk but it reminds me of my grandfather.”
“Not weird,” Trevor said. “Charming.” He unbuttoned Ford’s shirt. “Congress isn’t in session tomorrow, right?”
“No.” Ford shook his head. “A lot of the members travel to their home districts for the weekend so Fridays are usually free.”
“What about you?” Trevor asked as he pushed Ford’s shirt off his shoulders. “Do you have weekend travel plans?”
“I usually go home to see my family.”
Trevor slowly slid Ford’s belt free. “You have sisters, right?”
“Uh-huh. And they have kids.”
“Three, right?” Trevor asked as he popped open Ford’s pants button.
“Eight.” Ford trembled when Trevor slid his zipper down. “Or do you mean sisters?” He bucked forward, pushing his erection against Trevor’s hand. “I have three sisters and they have eight kids between them.”
“Big family.” He pushed Ford’s pants off his waist and let them drop to his ankles.
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you close to them?” Trevor lowered to a squat, carefully lifted each of Ford’s feet, and removed his pants and socks.
“Very.” Ford glanced down at him. “What about you? Are you close with your family?”
“Both my grandparents passed away when I was a kid and I don’t have any siblings, but I see my aunts, uncles, and cousins every few years,” Trevor said by rote, responding to the question without actually answering it.
“What about your parents?”
He should have known his practiced response wouldn’t work on Ford. Ignoring the unpleasant topic in favor of something he found much more interesting, Trevor leaned into Ford’s groin and inhaled deeply. The musky scent predictably aroused him and he mouthed Ford’s dick through the thin cotton.
“Oh Lord,” Ford moaned as his legs trembled and he grasped at Trevor’s hair.
Though his mouth watered for a taste, Trevor wanted more than a quickie before dinner, so he tugged down Ford’s underwear and then reluctantly pulled himself away from temptation and stood until he was eye-to-eye with Ford.
“You were saying—” Ford sucked in a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself. “About your parents?”
“They’re busy. I’m busy. Even when we’re in the same city, the three of us are rarely in the same room.” Though the description of his family didn’t give away anything, it was still more detail than he normally shared. Whatever resentment he felt toward his parents, Trevor remained vigilant about protecting their secrets and their privacy.
“That has to be hard.” Ford caressed Trevor’s shoulder sympathetically.
Shrugging off the uncomfortable observation, Trevor joked, “Hey, at least we have workaholic tendencies in common.” He ran his hands up and down Ford’s sides. “Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Do you think that big family of yours can keep each other company for a weekend and do without you?”
“You’re here all weekend?”
“I can be.”
“Says the man who just called himself a workaholic.”
“I’ll probably have to login a few times and take a couple of calls, but I’m the boss so it’s not like anybody can call me out for slacking.” Trevor grinned. “What do you say, Representative Hollingsworth? Want to hide out from the world for a few days and be a slacker with me?”
“I’m being invited to lounge around in a fancy apartment masquerading as a hotel with nobody knowing where I am or expecting anything from me.” Ford tapped his pointer finger over his lips and scrunched his eyebrows together. “Hmm. Decisions, decisions.”
“Should I sweeten the pot by reminding you about the twenty-four hour room service and the only slightly less frequently available sex?”
“At our age, that’s highly optimistic, but you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Trevor palmed Ford’s erection. “I don’t recall either of us having any problems on that front when you were in New York.”
“Well, that was one night.” Ford spread his legs, giving Trevor more room to fondle him. “I spent days afterward recovering.”
“Funny. I spent days afterward beating off to the memories.”
“That’s what I meant by recovering.”
Trevor lightly smacked Ford’s ass. “Go shower, funny man.”
“Hey!” Ford scowled, jumped back, and rubbed his butt.
“So you’re not into spanking. Good to know. I’ll cross it off the evening’s agenda.”
“Very funny.” Ford rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Are you joining me in the shower?”
“You got off on the way here.” Trevor reached forward, circled his hand around Ford’s shaft, and slid it up and down. “I want you hard and ready to play tonight. If I get in that shower with you, we’ll end up fucking or sucking or jerking and then you’ll be all spent before the after-dinner games start.”
“All spent? What happened to your proclamations of constant sex all weekend long?”
“That was before I knew a guy five years younger than me had concerns about keeping it up.”
Ford narrowed his eyes and planted his hands on his hips.
Trevor threw his head back and laughed. “I know you’re going for insanely pissed, but glaring naked just doesn’t have the same impact.”
Glancing down, Ford’s cheeks reddened.
“Hey, that’s funny.”
“I know you’re not talking about my dick,” Ford said, arching his eyebrows.
“No, your dick is hot. Funny is saying ‘pissed’ doesn’t go with ‘naked’ but you piss with your dick so it actually does.”
“You’re forty-two years old and the owner of one of the most profitable privately held companies in the world and this is what you find humorous?”
“So you Googled more than pictures of me after we hooked up last time?” Trevor couldn’t hold back his self-satisfied smirk.
“Everyone knows about TM Enterprises, and you just said you were five years older than me. I’m thirty-seven so…” Ford sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I looked at more than pictures. I wanted to learn about you as a person. Happy now?”
“Uh-huh. Sure am. The person thing’s good. But tell me one thing.”
“What?” Ford asked hesitantly.
“Did you beat off to the pictures you saw online?”
“No!”
“Huh. Too bad. I’ll have to send you some that are more inspiring.”
“You have naked pictures of yourself?” Ford sounded equal parts horrified and aroused.
“Not yet, but I can take some. Want me to text them over?” Trevor said, mostly kidding.
“You can’t.” Ford blinked rapidly and his breathing quickened. “I use my phone for work. What if someone finds those pictures or intercepts them or—”
“Hey, hey.” Trevor pulled him into a hug. “It was a joke.”
Ford dropped his forehead onto Trevor’s shoulder, a spot he seemed to find comforting, and said, “You’re not allowed to joke with me.”
“Why not?” Trevor brushed his hand over the back of Ford’s hair.
“Because I don’t have a sense of humor.”
“Oh, really?”
“Uh-huh.” Ford turned his head and kissed the side of Trevor’s neck. “That’s a well-known fact. People have been saying it for years.”
“Well, those people are wrong. You’re funny.”
“I’m really not but I’m glad you think so. You should also know word on the street is I’m rigid and lack spontaneity, so you pretty much invited a robot to spend the weekend with you.”
Trevor wrapped his arms around Ford, cupped his backside, and started swaying.
“What are you doing?” Ford leaned back, clasped Trevor’s shoulders, and looked at him in confusion.
“Dancing with you.”
“There’s no music.”
“I’d offer to sing, but my voice is terrible,” Trevor responded while continuing the gentle back and forth motions.
After a moment’s hesitation, the tension left Ford’s body, he rested his cheek on Trevor’s shoulder, and he began to hum.
Smiling, Trevor pulled Ford a little closer, pressed his nose to Ford’s hair, and closed his eyes as they danced. After a couple of minutes, he quietly said, “That’s a pretty tune. Did you make it up?”
“No. It’s ‘From This Moment On.’ I must be butchering it if you don’t recognize Shania Twain.”
“You sound great but I don’t listen to country music.”
“Really? It’s my favorite. That and jazz.”
They waltzed around the room, and Ford continued humming, occasionally sprinkling in a few lyrics.
Keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t disturb their comfortable cocoon, Trevor asked, “Do you know all the words?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Sing it to me.”
“The only time I sing is in church and I haven’t done it solo since I was in choir as a kid.”
Trevor skated his hand up Ford’s back. “The reason I don’t listen to country music is I get tired of all that whining from guys about their trucks breaking down, their wives leaving them, and their dogs running away.”
“That is in no way an accurate description of country music,” Ford said, sounding predictably affronted.
“I’m pretty sure it is,” Trevor insisted.
“You lost all credibility for knowledge about this genre when you couldn’t identify Shania Twain, who, by the way, isn’t a guy so you’re already wrong.”
“Did her husband leave her?”
“How do you know she doesn’t have a wife? It’s very not progressive of you to assume.”
Arching his eyebrows, Trevor said, “Does she have a wife?”
Ford shook his head.
“Did her husband leave her?”
“I don’t know the details about Shania Twain’s divorce.” Ford pinched his lips together.
“Has she sung about a truck?”
Ford opened his mouth and then snapped it shut.
“Uh-huh,” Trevor said smugly. “That’s two for two.”
“It wasn’t about a broken down truck.”
“Semantics. What about the dog?”
“A lot of people mention dogs in their songs. What do you have against dogs?”
“Not a thing. I love dogs. How about you prove me wrong about country music and sing me that song you were humming?”
Ford opened his mouth, closed it, and then tilted his head to the side and scrunched his eyebrows together as he looked at Trevor appraisingly. “Was this all an elaborate attempt to goad me into singing for you?”
“Does it matter?” Grinning, Trevor combed his fingers through Ford’s hair. “You have a wonderful voice.” It was as deep as his speaking voice, but smoother and softer. Ford’s gentle nature came through when he sang. “I’d love to hear more of it.”
“Okay,” Ford huffed. “But not because I’m proving anything about country music.”
“Duly noted.” Trevor dipped his chin in acknowledgement, pulled Ford close to him again, and resumed swaying.
At first Ford remained silent, then he began humming the tune, and eventually he sang about answered prayers and being blessed. Though the lyrics had a more religious undertone than the classic rock music Trevor listened to, it was clearly a love song.
Inside the man who struggled to make room for his sexual orientation in a life filled with conservative politics, a conservative religion, and a conservative family, hid a passionate romantic. Trevor strongly suspected he was the first person to see that side of Ford, and the thought that he alone knew Ford at that level pleased him.
“I’m enjoying this serenade,” Trevor said quietly. He slid his hand down Ford’s side, over his hip, and onto his bare backside. “And the naked dancing.”
“You’re still dressed. I’m the only one naked.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Trevor tangled his fingers in the back of Ford’s hair and tugged until he could reach his mouth, then he brushed their lips together. “That makes this even sexier.”
Swallowing hard, Ford nodded.
“Keep going,” Trevor said as he dragged the tips of his fingers into Ford’s channel.
“I finished the song.”
“Choose something else.” Trevor pressed his thigh between Ford’s legs, held him close, and continued moving, this time making sure to provide friction to Ford’s cock. “I want to hear you sing while we dance.”
His fingers clutching and releasing Trevor’s shirtfront, Ford breathlessly said, “Is that what you call this?”
“Dancing, playing.” Trevor kissed Ford’s neck. “Having fun.”
Ford lay his head on Trevor’s shoulder and sang as they slowly moved around the room, not stopping until they heard the chime of an old-fashioned bell.
“I think that means dinner’s here.” Trevor squeezed Ford tightly, kissed the underside of his chin, and then straightened his clothes. “They said they’d come in through the kitchen and set up in the dining room. I’ll go check on them while you wash up.”
“This hotel room has a kitchen?” Shaking his head, Ford walked into the bathroom. “You’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me after this weekend.”
His gaze glued to Ford’s firm ass, Trevor whispered to himself, “Strangely enough, I don’t think I’d mind.”