Page 40 of Cream
“I know.”
“Okay. Ready?”
“Shoot.”
“Would a large-scale use of renewable energy sources cause massive power outages, like what happened two weeks ago in Spain?”
I launched into explanations, and Jamie listened, interrupting me when he wanted me to simplify something.
“They’re not entirely stupid,” I defended.
“You yourself have claimed that most people are, in fact, very stupid. But even if they weren’t, half of the room will be asleep before you finish that sentence. Remember the time you talked to those high schoolers? Answer the questions just like that.”
“These are government officials, Jamie.”
“Exactly. Talk to them like you would to bored, self-centered teenagers, and it’s in the bag.”
Sadly, he had a point.
It took three hours, but we went through every detail. I was just about to ask if I deserved that blow job now, but Jamie’s stomach growled.
“How about I take you out for dinner?”
He smiled, obviously pleased with the suggestion, but shook his head. “When I can sit on a chair again, yes. But tonight, let’s order room service.”
“You’re sore.”
“It’s fine. The recovery will be over in a few days. But I am hungry.”
Jamie craved meat, so we had steak for dinner, which he ate lying sideways on the sofa like a Roman emperor at a feast.
“Time for dessert,” he announced when I set the cutlery aside.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m full.”
He stood and crossed the carpet before lowering himself to his knees. Without another word, he unzipped my pants and mouthed my cock through my boxer briefs.
“Oh. You meant…”
Wrapping his lips around my cockhead, he hummed.
With rewards like this, my work efficiency would be through the roof.
14
JAMIE
Morton had excelled in front of the tough crowd, as always. I wasn’t allowed into the private meetings, which was good because after sitting on a chair during the keynote, my ass was killing me. I watched the joint press conference with the Prime Minister on the news, and it looked like it went well.
Morton returned late, exhausted but happy. He fell asleep in my arms, with his mouth around my nipple.
The next day, we woke up to headlines likeMorton Hartley Will Rebuild National GridandNew Era of Renewable Energy Has a Name: Morton Hartley.
I was so proud of my man. Yes, Morton wasmy man. During the following few days, it really sank in. As soon as I was recovered enough, he took me with him to all the parties and introduced me as his partner to everybody and their uncle. The tabloids were having a field day, but we were too happy to care about that.
One of the online articles showed a photo of me by Morton’s side at the closing gala of the conference. In the picture, he was saying something to a reporter, and I gazed up at him, all starry-eyed.
Lord, I had it so bad that the entire country could see.
