Текст книги "Fatal Scandal"

Автор книги: Marie Force

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Two

Nick had secured the same K Street lounge where they’d held their promotion party last year. Except this time, it was just the two of them and his detail rather than the raucous crowd of friends and family that had joined them a year ago.

“Are they closed tonight?” Sam asked.

Nick gestured to a candlelit table set for two in the middle of the big room that usually served as a bustling nightclub. “For a private party of two.”

“My husband must have some kind of cache to be able to shut down a hot spot like this on New Year’s Eve.”

“Yes, he’s very powerful and influential,” he said with the self-deprecating grin she loved so much. “In truth, the only way the Secret Service would go for it was if we had the place to ourselves.” He shrugged. “So we have the place to ourselves.”

She ran her hand down the length of his red silk tie and hooked her index finger under his belt. “Having the place completely to ourselves doesn’t totally suck.”

“Don’t get any ideas. We’re not alone.”

Though his detail had faded into the background, they were always there and always watching. Determined to ensure he had a good time tonight despite the prying eyes around them, Sam walked over to the table. He was right behind her, holding the chair for her. The moment they were seated, a waiter emerged from the kitchen.

“Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano, it is indeed an honor to have you here tonight. I’m Mario, and I’ll be your waiter.”

“Thank you, Mario,” Nick said. “I believe we need some champagne.”

Sam nodded in agreement, and the waiter hustled off to get it. “Champagne makes me silly and uninhibited,” Sam reminded her husband.

“Does it? I’d forgotten that.”

Since he never forgot anything where she was concerned, she rolled her eyes to let him know she wasn’t buying it. “I think you’re just trying to make sure you get lucky later.”

“Do I ever have any problem getting lucky?”

“Are you calling me easy, Mr. VP?”

“If the Louboutin fits...”

Laughing, Sam said, “I can’t even deny these accusations.”

“I love that you’re easy.” He kissed the back of her hand, sending shivers of sensation darting up her arm and straight to her nipples, which stood at attention. Naturally, he noticed, his hazel eyes heating with pleasure at the way she reacted to him. “You have no idea how much I count on the one thing in my life that’s always easy and effortless.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that dealing with me is effortless.”

“I love dealing with you, as you well know.”

She loved when he looked at her the way he was now, as if the sun, the moon and the stars rose and set with her.

The moment ended when Mario returned with their champagne, which was presented with flourish. “Please enjoy,” he said when he’d filled two crystal flutes. “I’ll be back with your appetizers momentarily.”

“So we don’t have to order?” Sam asked when they were alone again.

“All taken care of.”

In her past life, before him, it would’ve made her crazy to have a man order for her. But when he did it, she felt cared for and maybe a bit coddled. Not that she’d ever admit as much to him. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.

“I can see the gerbils working overtime on the treadmill as you try to convince yourself to let go and roll with it,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You can see no such thing.”

“Whatever you say, babe. Any minute now there’ll be smoke pouring out your ears.”

He knew her better than anyone ever had—better than anyone ever would. Her inclination at first had been to fight that, to preserve a piece of herself so she’d survive if things between them didn’t work out. Now, after a year with him, she had faith it would work out and knew for certain she’d never survive without him.

“Now what’re you thinking?”

“You tell me. You’re the one with ESP.”

He studied her intently, making her squirm ever so slightly in her chair. “You’re thinking that you love me so much it’s not even funny, and you can’t wait until we get home to the one place where there’re no prying eyes so you can have your wicked way with me. Am I close?”

“If you hadn’t already told me how easy I am, I’d tell you you’re delusional. But we know better, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do.” Smiling, he raised his glass to her. “To my gorgeous, sexy, exasperating, easy wife, I love you more than anything, and I can’t wait to see what our second year together will entail.”

Charmed and touched by his sweet words, she touched her glass to his and took a sip of the dry, chilled bubbly. “Mmm, that’s good.”

“Drink up. I’ve got plans for later, and I need you uninhibited.” He waggled his brows suggestively, which had her squirming in her chair for a whole other reason.

Sam glanced toward the far side of the large room where four Secret Service agents were seated at a table talking quietly and pretending they weren’t watching them. She knew others were positioned outside, creating a perimeter of protection all around them. If she allowed herself to think too much about being surrounded every time she was with her husband, she’d lose her mind. So she chose not to think about it—most of the time.

“Pretend they’re not here,” Nick said. “Focus on me.”

Focusing on his exquisitely handsome face was certainly no hardship. Mario plied them with four courses of delicious food and wine and more champagne before he carried out a flaming soufflé for dessert.

“So, are you going to tell me how the deposition went today?” he asked as they dug into the soufflé with two spoons.

“How do you think it went? I had to relive the nightmare day when Melissa came into our house with a bomb strapped to her chest.”

“Did it take all day?”

“Yep. Her lawyers were nothing if not thorough.”

“And I’m sure you were unrepentant.”

“You’re damn right I was. I don’t regret anything I did that day. She can sue us all she wants, but I did my job and I have no doubt that Freddie and I saved all our lives that day.”

“I was there. I can attest to that. What happens now?”

“Who knows? They take my deposition, and the whole thing goes away until it rears its ugly head again. I’m not giving it another thought until I have to.” Eager to change the subject, Sam said, “You know what the good thing is about your detail?”

“Is there a good thing?”

“Yep. We can get totally hammered, and they have to drive us home.”

“That isn’t a bad thing. Are you totally hammered?”

“I think I might be. Are you?”

“Nope. I paced myself.”

“Always in control, aren’t you?”

He gazed at her meaningfully. “Not always.”

Sam’s bite of soufflé got stuck in her throat. The reminder that she was the one person who could break his legendary control made her want to go home immediately. “Is it time to go?”

“Not quite yet.” He fed her another bite. “Want to dance?”

Sam looked over at the Secret Service detail. The three men and one woman were done eating and were monitoring them without actually looking at them. “I’d prefer to dance at home without an audience.”

“We can do that.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Are they going to let us go up to watch the fireworks?” It went against everything she believed in to ask anyone for permission to do anything, but she didn’t want to make his life any more complicated than it already was by constantly clashing with his detail.

Nodding, he said, “That was my primary request for this evening. I had a promise to my wife that needed to be kept.”

Last year, they’d stood on the rooftop of this very building, newly in love, newly back together six years after an unforgettable one-night stand. They’d promised to come back to that spot to see in every New Year together. She’d wondered if they’d get to do it in light of his new security constraints.

“Did you doubt that I’d remember?”

“Oh, I knew you’d remember. I’ve learned not to question such things. Your memory is freakishly good. I just wasn’t sure if they’d allow it.”

“Apparently, there’ll be sharpshooters on adjacent buildings keeping an eye on us, so no sudden moves.”

She rested her hand on his leg and ran it slowly up to cup him intimately. “So nothing like this?” she asked as he hardened under her hand.

“That’s absolutely allowed.”

Sam laughed at the lusty look he sent her way as he covered her hand with his to keep her from getting away. “How about you save that for when we get home?”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“There’s so much I could say to that.”

Nick put his free arm around her and pulled her and her chair closer to him. With his lips close to her ear, he said, “I know it sucks balls to be constantly under surveillance, babe, but I just want you to know... That we can still be us in the midst of it is the only thing saving my sanity right now.”

“We’ll always be us, no matter where we are or who is watching.” She stroked her hand up and down his length, loving the way he throbbed under her palm. “Speaking of sucking balls, I have a hankering—”

He kissed her before she could finish the sentence. “Don’t say it, or I’ll drag you out of here without keeping my promise.”

Sam happened to glance over at the table full of agents, all of whom were face-first in their phones, except for Melinda, who was watching them. The tall, frosty blonde seemed to enjoy her job a little too much if you asked Sam. “Tell Secret Service Barbie to quit looking at my hot husband.”

“Um, she’s sort of paid to look at me.”

“I don’t like her.”

“Oh, Jesus. Why not? What’ve you got against her?”

“I don’t like the way she looks at you.”

“Samantha,” he said, “are you being serious right now?”

“Dead serious. There’s something about her that bugs me.”

“Just like there’s something about Avery Hill that bugs me?”

“Something like that.”

Nick busted up laughing, which had Sam removing her hand from his crotch. If he was going to laugh at her, he didn’t deserve a hand job. A buzzing noise from under the table interrupted the snappy retort she was working up.

“Saved by the phone,” he said, aware that he’d gotten himself into trouble.

“I know I should ignore it, but what if it’s Scotty?”

“Go ahead and check it. You won’t relax knowing there’s an unread text on your phone.”

And wasn’t that the truth? She retrieved her phone from her purse and flipped it open to find a text from Gonzo.

Shit is hitting the fan. Need to talk to you. Call if you can.

“Crap, it’s Gonzo. He says the shit’s hitting the fan. He wants me to call him.”

“Go ahead. We have time before midnight.”

“They’re supposed to be celebrating their anniversary tonight.” Gonzo had met Christina, Nick’s former chief of staff, at their party here last year and they were now engaged. Sam placed the call and waited for Gonzo to pick up.

Nick put his arm around her and kept her close while he took advantage of the opportunity to check his own phone. Sam had learned to hate that phone, which often rang in the middle of the night, with Terry passing on information he thought Nick needed to know. It had been bad enough when only her phone did that. Now they had two of them that went off at all hours.

Gonzo picked up on the sixth ring. “Hey, sorry. I was on the other line with Andy.” Nick’s lawyer friend had spearheaded Gonzo’s efforts to get custody of his son.

“What’s he got to say?”

“He’s pissed that I didn’t disclose my previous relationship with the judge.”

“Oh, crap. Is he dropping you?”

“He didn’t say that, but I guess I couldn’t blame him if he did. This whole thing is my fault. I should’ve come clean at the outset, and now Lori’s people are all over it.”

“How so?”

“They’ve filed an injunction to overturn the ruling that gave me full custody.”

“Shit. What did Andy say?”

“That they’ve got a case, and I should be worried. Lori also went to the fucking media, and now it’s a total shitstorm.”

“I saw some of that earlier.”

“I don’t know what to do, Sam. Part of me wants to pack up Alex and run. The other half of me wants to pretend this isn’t happening. And then there’s the part that wants to wrap my hands around her fucking neck and squeeze the life out of her.”

“Please don’t do that. And it won’t help anything if you run away. You’ll have to come back eventually and face the music.” She leaned into Nick’s embrace. “Just remember that everyone felt you were the better parent. If they reopen the case, another judge isn’t going to necessarily see it differently.”

“I can’t believe I might have to go through that hell all over again. I wish she’d just go away. She doesn’t even want him.”

Sam didn’t know what to say to that. From everything she’d heard, Lori Phillips had gone to tremendous lengths to clean up her life in an effort to get custody of her son. But that wasn’t what Gonzo needed to hear right now. “I know this has to be really stressful, but there’s nothing you can do on a holiday weekend. Try to relax until you know more. And don’t do anything stupid that’ll make your case more complicated—or mess up your recovery. We need you back at work.”

“I know. I just feel like... God, Sam, I’m losing it over here.”

“Do you need me to come over there and keep you from doing something stupid?”

“No, Chris is here, and she’s doing what she can. The thought of losing Alex... I can’t lose him. I’d never survive it.”

“Do you promise you’ll stay calm and let the process work the way it’s supposed to?”

After an uncomfortably long silence, Gonzo said, “Yeah.”

“Gonzo, seriously. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Think about your hard-won career and the family that needs you. Stay calm.”

“Thanks, Sam. Chris told me to call you. She said I’d feel better after I talked to you, and I do.”

“Anytime.”

“Sorry to interrupt your evening. I know you guys had plans.”

“No worries. You know you can always call me. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “Happy New Year.”

“Same to you, and happy anniversary too. It’ll be a happy New Year for all of us. I know it will.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Um, when have you ever known me not to be right?”

Her husband and friend groaned in stereo.

“On that note, I’ll let you go.”

“Take care.” Sam closed the phone and blew out a deep breath. “He’s freaking out.”

“I heard,” Nick said.

“And blaming himself.”

“I wonder how Lori found out about his connection to Morton.”

“Her lawyers must’ve done some digging around.”

“You know I’m always on Gonzo’s side,” Nick said tentatively. “He’s become my friend as much as he’s yours.”

“But?”

“He fucked up by not disclosing his past relationship with Morton. I’d be surprised if the whole case isn’t tossed. The bar will probably have something to say about Morton not disclosing it either.”

“Damn. What a mess. Poor Gonzo. He thought he was home free with permanent custody of Alex, and now this.”

Nick consulted the silver TAG Heuer watch she’d given him for Christmas, much to his surprise. “May I be selfish for a minute here?”

“But of course.”

“Before we start another crazy year, I need a few minutes alone with my wife on the roof.”

“Your wife is always happy to give you a few minutes.”

He got up and helped her out of her chair and into the coat that magically appeared, brought by a member of the attentive restaurant staff. With the coat in place, he gathered her long hair and let it slide through his fingers in a move reminiscent of when they first reconnected after John O’Connor’s murder. He’d been combing his fingers through her hair as often as he could ever since.

Hand in hand, they followed two of his agents up the stairs to the roof while two others followed behind them. Their city stretched out before them, from the Capitol to the Washington Monument to Lincoln to the right and Jefferson to the left. In the middle sat the White House, where Nick now had an office in the West Wing that he would report to for the first time the day after tomorrow. When they’d stood here a year ago, they never could’ve imagined that particular development transpiring the way it had.

“We’ve got you set up over here, sir.” Brant gestured to a protected corner of the roof that left only two sides open. A small sofa had been placed on the roof along with a blanket.

“Thanks, Brant.” With his hand on her back, Nick guided Sam to the appointed spot.

“Much more cozy than last year,” Sam said.

“And far less private.” The agents had faded into the darkness, but they—and others—were watching closely. They’d been told to tell no one of their plans for New Year’s Eve. If no one knew where they were, the chances of any sort of incident were minimized.

Sam snuggled up to him. “We’ll make the most of it.”

He put his arms around her and tossed the blanket over them. “I remember how cold you were last year even though you pretended otherwise.”

“How could I be cold when you were holding me and making me hot for you the way I always am?”

“Mmm,” he said in a low growl that sent shivers dancing down her spine. “I love that you’re always hot for me. This, right here...” He hugged her in closer to him. “The best thing in my life, hands down.”

“And the boy.”

“And the boy,” he said. “Thank you for the most amazing year of my life. A year ago tonight, if I’d employed my wildest imagination, I never could’ve conjured up the year we’ve spent together. Just when I think I love you as much as a man can possibly love a woman, I find out there’s more.”

Sam sighed with pleasure and delight at the magic she found in his arms. “I keep waiting for it to get real, you know?”

“How do you mean?”

“The blush has to wear off the rose eventually, doesn’t it?”

Chuckling, he said, “I don’t think that’s going to happen to us, babe. It keeps getting better all the time. Especially lately. Living in the bubble like we are, the time we spend by ourselves out of the spotlight is even more important than it used to be.”

“My New Year’s resolution is to spend as much time completely alone with my husband as I possibly can.”

“Your husband wholeheartedly approves of that resolution.”

“What’s yours?”

“To continue to love my wife and son with everything I have to give them.” He sealed his resolution with a kiss that ended when the first of the fireworks erupted over the city, casting the landmarks in vivid blues and reds.

Sam appreciated the way he used his muscular frame to shield them from the watchful eyes of his detail. She caressed his face, dragging her index finger over his lower lip that was still damp from their kisses. “Same time and place next year?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Chapter Three

They arrived home to Shelby asleep on the couch, wrapped up in Avery’s arms. The agent was awake, watching the New Year’s festivities in Times Square on TV. Nick hated having that guy in his house, but Hill’s attentions were now focused on Shelby rather than Sam. At least he hoped so.

Every so often he caught him looking at Sam with something way outside the bounds of friendship, and at those times, Nick wondered if he’d really moved on or if he was merely using their wonderful personal assistant to stay close to Sam. If Nick ever discovered that to be true, he’d have the agent transferred to an outpost in Siberia so fast his head would spin.

He’d like to think he was above using his position for his own agenda, but in the case of the FBI agent who had a “thing” for his wife, he wouldn’t hesitate to have him removed from her orbit if it came to that. So he kept a close eye on the guy who seemed to be around their house more and more often lately. With all the women in the District he could be dating, why their personal assistant?

Not that Shelby wasn’t fabulous—she was. Any guy would be lucky to date her. But Nick found the situation curious at best, fishy at worse. So while Sam talked to Hill, Nick went through the motions of hanging their coats in the front hall closet. He hoped Hill would get the hint and go home so Nick could take his wife to bed.

What if he said that? “Hill, could you please leave? I need to make mad, passionate love to my wife, and you’re screwing things up just by being here.” Nick smiled to himself as he imagined the look of utter scorn he’d receive from Sam if he said it, but damn, he wanted to. Rather than get himself in trouble when he was planning to get very lucky, he went into the kitchen to fix himself a nightcap from the bottle of bourbon Graham O’Connor had given him on the one-year anniversary of John’s death.

Rather than wallow in their ongoing grief, they’d chosen to toast their son and best friend with drinks and cigars that had left Nick feeling rather sick at the end of the evening. But they’d gotten Graham and his wife, Laine, through the day, and that was all that mattered. One year. How was it possible that John had already been gone a year? He’d never believe the changes to all their lives since then, most particularly Nick, who’d gone from John’s chief of staff to the Senate to vice president of the United States in one short dizzying year. He’d also gone from single to married to fatherhood in the same year.

The best part, by far, had been reconnecting with Sam in the wake of John’s murder. That something so amazing and life-changing could’ve come from the worst day of his life was nothing short of a miracle. She was a miracle. His miracle.

She came into the kitchen looking gorgeous in the clingy, sexy black dress, her cheeks still red from the cold, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Hiding out?”

“Nothing of the sort.” He held up his glass. “Having a nightcap. Join me?”

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Feeling risky tonight, are you?” Bourbon wasn’t usually her drink of choice, but he poured her a couple of fingers nonetheless. “Is he gone?”

“They both are, so you can come out of hiding. I’m proud of you, though, for leaving me alone with him.” She patted his face indulgently. “My little boy might be growing up.”

Amused, he took a sip of his drink. “Does thinking about how quickly I could have him transferred to Siberia count as growing up?”

“Nick...”

“What? I didn’t say I was doing it. I simply said I’d thought about it.”

She shook her head and grinned at him. “Want to know what I was thinking about?”

“Always.”

“You’ll have to come upstairs to find out.” Taking her drink with her, she left the kitchen and headed for the stairs.

Curious and aroused and amused, he went after her, watching the gentle sway of her exceptional ass on the way up. That she put a little extra swing in her step for his benefit wasn’t lost on him. His detail had disappeared into what used to be his study and now served as command central. The loss of the office space was a small price to pay for being allowed to remain in their home. He had no idea what the agents did all night while he slept, and he honestly didn’t care.

Before the new job, Nick had craved the time alone with Sam at the end of every long day. Now he absolutely lived for it. From the moment their bedroom door closed behind them, they were completely alone until seven the next morning, at which time he was required to check in with the detail—five days a week. On weekends, they gave him until nine. In private, he and Sam referred to it as his “prison schedule.”

In the hallway outside Scotty’s room, Darcy, one of the agents assigned to his son’s detail, stood when she saw them approach.

“Good evening, Mr. Vice President, Mrs. Cappuano, and Happy New Year.”

“Same to you, Darcy.” He gestured to Scotty’s door. “May we?”

“Of course.”

By now, Scotty’s detail was accustomed to the fact that they never went to bed without checking one last time on their sleeping son. After being away from him, even for a few hours, they needed to lay eyes on him.

Nick followed Sam into the room that was tricked out in Red Sox and superhero decorations and smelled like the Hatchet cologne he’d recently begun wearing much to their dismay. Sam had tried to tell him that no girl—ever—would be attracted to a guy who smelled like that stuff. She’d bought him some Lacoste cologne for Christmas, and they were hoping he’d take to it—soon.

Sam leaned over the bed, brushed dark hair from Scotty’s forehead and kissed him. Nick followed suit, running his fingers through the hair that was so much like his he might’ve been the boy’s biological father. But he wasn’t. Some other guy had fathered him, and they were making the required effort to find him so they could finalize the adoption. Nick might actually sleep at night once that was done.

He shared a smile with Sam, then followed her from the room.

“Good night,” they said to Darcy.

“Good night. Sleep well.”

In their room, Nick closed the door and locked it. None of the agents would dare step foot in there unless the house were on fire or the country under attack, but Nick always locked the door anyway, needing the assurance that for these few hours anyway, they’d be completely alone. If Scotty needed them, he would knock on the door.

He stripped off his tie and shirt, tossing them over a chair in his haste to be free of the dress clothes he spent far too much time in these days. Watching Sam’s contorted effort to reach the zipper of her dress had him crossing the room to assist.

“Oh, please,” he said. “Allow me.” Moving her hair to the side, he punctuated his words with kisses to the back of her neck that had her sighing and leaning against him. “I can’t get to the zipper with you snuggled up against me.” He slid his arms around her.

“I needed this first.”

“Anytime.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“It was entirely my pleasure, as is any time I get to spend with you.” He peppered her neck with kisses, making her moan when he latched on to her earlobe. “Let me get that zipper for you. I want to see what’s under this number.”

“There wasn’t room for much, so don’t get too excited.”

He pressed his erection into the cleft between her buttocks. “Too late.” Her girlish giggle, the one she saved only for him, was music to his ears. He released her only enough to access the zipper. With it unfastened, she shimmied out of the dress, sending his arousal into the red zone as he watched her hips slide from side to side. “Could I get that on video sometime?”

“In your dreams.”

“That was so hot, babe.”

“What was? All I did was take off my dress.”

He took hold of her hand and pressed it against his erection. “And look what happened when you did.”

“Mmm, that feels pretty serious. We should do something about that.” She turned to him, her breasts barely contained by a sheer strapless bra. His gaze wandered down to the scrap of thong that covered her.

He licked lips that had gone dry with lust. “And you said I shouldn’t get too excited. Look at you.”

She pulled his T-shirt up and over his head and then went to work on his belt and pants. “I’d so much rather look at you.” When he sprang free of his boxers, she took him in hand and then dropped to her knees before him.

Oh, Christ. “Sam, I don’t know if I can take that tonight.”

“Since when are you good for only once? It’s a holiday. We’ve got all night, and we even get to sleep in.” As she spoke, she let her lips vibrate against his shaft as she stroked him. The combination was overwhelming, and she’d barely touched him. Then she opened her mouth and drew him in, sucking and licking her way down his length.

“God, Samantha.” When his legs began to tremble, she cupped his balls, sliding her fingers back and forth until he could no longer control the need to pump his hips.

She took most of him, letting him slide into her throat and then swallowing, which finished him right off.

Fisting her hair, he let go of all his thoughts and cares and worries, giving everything he had to her in wave after wave of pleasure. She brought him down slowly, gently licking and touching him until he nearly had to beg for mercy. She kissed her way up to his belly and then to his chest, tonguing his nipples and then his lips.

“Come with me.” She grabbed the comforter and two pillows off the bed and brought them to the floor in front of the gas fireplace, which she lit with the press of a button. “Remember last year?”

“I remember.” He joined her on the floor, wrapping his arms around her as she arranged the comforter over them. “The first night we spent in this house.” Behind her back, he unhooked her bra and moved it out of the way, loving the feel of her breasts against his chest. Then he pushed the thong down her legs, and slid his leg between hers.

“In case I never told you,” she said, “I really love this house. I love that it’s right near my dad’s. I love that you live here and that Scotty lives here now and that we got to stay here after your promotion.”

Laughing, he said, “Is that what we’re calling the mess I’ve made of our lives?”

“Uh-huh. I love that I got a whole room for a closet, and you know how much I love our loft.”

“The loft is a personal favorite of mine too.” As he kissed her, he moved so he was on top, poised between her legs while gazing down at her. “But having you here with me is the best part. You and Scotty. You guys are all I need to be happy.”

Based on the fact that he hadn’t heard a word from his new boss or the new boss’s staff since the day he was sworn in, Nick had a sneaking suspicion that Nelson had used him to boost sagging approval ratings. The president had been reelected by one of the narrowest margins in history, and the Democrats had lost control of the House. The president’s second term promised to be contentious and polarizing, so a popular vice president wouldn’t hurt anything.

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked him.

He realized that he’d punched out on her, which he never did when she was naked beneath him. “How good you feel.” More than anything, Nick hated having to hide his worries from Sam, who’d been so supportive and understanding as the Secret Service invaded their lives and their home.

“You know how you can make me really happy right now?” she asked with the coy smile he adored.

“How?”

She took him in hand, stroked him until he was harder than he’d been before she made him come, and guided him home.

As he slid into her, his mind cleared of anything that didn’t involve her. Encased in her tight heat, he had no choice but to give her his full attention. As long as he had this, as long as he had her, he’d be okay. That was all he knew for sure. Then she wrapped her arms and legs around him, and his heart overflowed with love for her. She gave him everything, even things she didn’t know he needed.