by Shayla Black
“And I do it for my country?” The grin stretched into a wide smile. To have Roman both playing with her and sharing his thoughts filled her with a lightness she hadn’t been expecting. In their past, sex had been an outward expression of lust and some weird power struggle in which neither of them had been willing to bend. This was something more. This was fun. This was Roman telling her his fantasy and her playing it out for him.
Give and take. No struggle. No war to see who came out on top. This was two people who cared about each other finding middle ground so they could make it work.
Hopefully, just like their relationship.
“You’re a patriot, Augustine.” Something warm dominated his expression. Affection and lust wrapped up in a killer smile.
She eased the slacks off her hips and drew her lacy panties down with them. She didn’t need to draw this out unnecessarily. They were on a clock, but she was already looking forward to getting back to DC where she would absolutely be fucking the chief of staff in his office. She would show him exactly how patriotic she could be.
“Damn, but I’ll never get used to how beautiful you are. And how the hell did you wrap me around your finger? I should be fighting to get you home and safe, but all I can think about is how much I want that sinful mouth of yours on my dick.”
She dropped to her knees. “I would rather be in danger with you than safe without you, Roman.” The words slipped from her mouth without thought. Immediately, she looked for ways to walk them back. Yes, she and Roman were getting along better. And yes, he did seem more reasonable. But just because she wanted a future with him didn’t mean he felt the same. She couldn’t want it enough for both of them. Making herself vulnerable only made the risk to her heart more perilous. So she plastered on her brightest smile. “I mean, you’re such a big strong man, Mr. Calder, that I know you’ll protect me if the press finds out what we’re doing.”
He frowned and sat upright, leaning in just enough to cup her face in one hand. “That’s not what you meant. We’ll play tonight your way because I can’t stand the thought of not being with you. I know I’ll hate myself if you get hurt, but I can’t not take this chance with you. I was an idiot in the past, and it cost us years. Don’t pull away from me now.”
Sincerity warmed his dark stare, and she shuddered in his grip. God, Roman was always sexy, but even more so when he was being open and honest with her. She braced her hands on his knees. “I don’t know that I could if I wanted to. I’m afraid, too, Roman. You have always scared me, but I can’t stay away. I’ll be honest, though. I worry that we’re trying to reclaim our youth or find something we lost long ago.”
He’d been her whole world for that year, and she’d been so certain they were meant to be. Assuming he shared her feelings, then showing him her sass rather than her honest vulnerability, had been fuel that sparked their destructive fire.
“No, we’re finding something new, something better. We’re not the same people. We’ve lived more…and hopefully learned which battles are worth fighting and with what weapons. We’ve both learned to value the connections that are important. Let’s find out how we are together now—this Roman and this Augustine. No looking back.”
She wasn’t sure the shambles of their past wouldn’t always be a barrier between them, but she wanted to believe what he was saying. She wanted to give them her all so badly. “Is this anything like your fantasy?”
She slid her palms up his muscular thighs to his belt buckle.
“You’re better than any fantasy. I think that’s been the trouble my whole damn life. I preferred fantasy to reality.” When his belt came undone under her ministrations, he moaned. “You’re going to drive me crazy, aren’t you?”
“Only in the best way.” She eased the zipper down, carefully separating the front of his slacks so she could see his boxers. That eager cock of his was straining against the fabric. “It looks like you don’t mind my kind of crazy.”
“If you don’t touch me soon, you’ll see my crazy, baby. It won’t be pretty. I’ll start to beg, then the fantasy of you on your knees doing my bidding because I’m the all-powerful White House chief of staff will go up in smoke.” His fist curled around the Scotch. “You see in my dream world, you do this twice a day. You show up in the morning and set aside your coffee and spread yourself on my desk so I can have you any way I like. It’s my morning exercise.”
She grinned at that. “And at night?”
“At the end of a long day, I pour myself a glass of ridiculously expensive Scotch and you suck my cock until I can’t see straight. Then we go home and get into bed and I make love to you until we can finally sleep, and we start all over again the next day.”
She peeled back his boxers, his cock bouncing free. It was a thing of beauty, the head a lovely shade of red and purple and already shiny for her. “That sounds like a schedule I can appreciate.”
“You know I believe in keeping a rigorous one,” he murmured as she stroked him softly. “You’re killing me, baby. I’m going to beg any minute now.”
Gus couldn’t have that. She leaned forward and licked at the head of his cock, gripping him with one hand, holding him upright so she could explore him with her lips and tongue all over again. Roman enjoyed a firm hold. He demanded it. One of the things she could never forget was how he’d always loved to sink his hands in her hair and clench, insisting she suck at the pace he set. Now, he let her have free rein to explore him at will. Eventually he would take control, but now he seemed content to let her exercise her own.
Subtle changes, more evidence that they were, in fact, different people. But Gus appreciated them.
If they’d managed to be a little more tolerant when they’d been younger, where might they be now? Married? With children? Happy? The thought of all those missed years made her heart ache.
No. Roman was right. She had to focus on the future, not the past. It was done, and nothing could be gained by what-iffing all that. She had the now, and it was a pretty good place to be.
Gus dragged her tongue down the thick stalk of his cock, loving the way he hissed at the sensation. She sucked him into her mouth, lightly playing and teasing, before she eased back to nip at his sensitive crest with her teeth. He shuddered. And all the while she could feel her body heating, softening. The very act of pleasing him aroused her.
She explored his silken length with a moan, flattening her tongue and trying not to miss a single inch. He expressed his appreciation for her thorough efforts with a curse and a groan.
The sound of the glass clinking against the table resounded right before his big palms enveloped her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Do you have any idea how good you feel?”
She certainly hoped she knew. To be sure, she swirled her tongue all around him, lowering her head again before sucking her way back up, hollowing her cheeks with an appreciative wail.
Glancing up at him through her lashes, Gus caught Roman staring down at her. His whole being seemed focused on her. He wasn’t thinking about anything now except the sensation she laved all over his dick and the pleasure jetting through his body. And that was a feat because shutting down Roman Calder’s always-whirling, considering-a-thousand-problems brain almost never happened.
When she lowered her mouth on him again, taking him in inch by slow inch, he watched, gripping her tightly. “Hmm. Yes, I should have my secretary put this on my daily schedule.”
Loving his smoke-and-sin voice, she tilted her head up and pulled free with a grin. “I’m sure Sandra will love writing that in. ‘Your nine a.m. blow job has arrived, Mr. Calder.’”
“No. All she’ll say is your Augustine is here.”
His Augustine. Her Roman. Still, there were some problems with his fantasy. “If I’m in your office every morning, people will talk, especially if they hear moaning coming from behind closed doors.”
“They’ll talk about how fucking lucky I am. They’ll wonder why I get the hottest girl and the best office and all the
damn perks. If they say anything else, I’ll show them why they call me the president’s Hitman.”
“I don’t care what any one of those assholes say, as long as I get to do this to you.” She swallowed him down in one long gulp.
Above her, he hissed again, his hands tangling in her hair. He’d been gentle up until this point, as though he merely wanted the connection with her, was enjoying their banter and playfulness. But now she felt the intent in his grasp.
His fingers twisted in her hair, lighting up her scalp. “You will. Suck me, Augustine.”
She picked up the pace. This was what he needed. What she needed. The emotion between them was real and tangible when they were making love. Maybe if they did it often enough they could transform that feeling into a bond that couldn’t be broken, one that would stand the test of time—and whatever shit came their way.
Maybe they really could use it to start over.
Gus laved Roman’s cock up and down, lips and tongue working together to make his toes curl. He set a hard rhythm and she followed, shuttling him in and out of her mouth and cupping the soft sac of his balls. They were swollen and desperate in her palm. She gave them a gentle tug, and a growl tore from his throat. He couldn’t possibly last long. She could feel it. His orgasm was evident in the way his balls drew up and in the stiffening of his cock.
Any minute now he would groan and surrender to the pleasure. He was so far gone, it was inevitable. She would suck him hard and he would come in her mouth and be gratified that she had given him ecstasy. All she had to do was let him find that soft place in the back of her throat where she swallowed him whole, and he couldn’t resist her a second more.
Instead, his fingers tightened in her hair, forcing her up and off his cock.
“No. Not tonight. I might have my office fantasies, but they don’t work now. I want you up here, riding my cock. I’m not coming until I’m deep inside that hot pussy of yours.”
When he tugged her up, Gus straddled his lap, resting her knees on either side of him. She wanted him inside her so desperately. Her whole body pulsed with pure arousal. She could feel her blood thrumming through her system and her clitoris beginning to throb in reaction.
Even more, she needed him—the connection, the closeness. The promise of their future.
She positioned herself over his thick erection, letting her palms skim over her breasts and down to her waist.
“Fuck, you’re sexy. Yes, this is what I want.” His grip tightened on her as he positioned his cock against her intimately. “If I could, I would keep you naked all the time, always ready for me.”
It was a nice fantasy. She didn’t mind entertaining that one, especially if Roman remained dressed and did all kinds of dirty, unspeakable things to cajole her complete surrender.
With a gasp, Gus lowered herself down, sliding his massive length inside her inch by inch. Slowly. God, she wanted to feel every second of his penetration, so she moved as if she didn’t have a care in the world, as if they had all night to simply feel each other.
He filled her completely. No one ever had filled her quite the way this man did. She was deliciously stretched and feeling thoroughly adored by his unyielding grip on her hips and the blistering heat of his stare.
“You feel so damn good. Kiss me,” he growled.
With pleasure… She lowered her mouth, brushing her lips against his as she found a rhythm, her hips moving in time with his. He held her so close, as if he would never let her go.
The tension built with every thrust, his cock and his tongue working in tandem to drive her out of her mind. Heat balled in her belly. Tingles snaked behind her clit. Gus held onto him, letting him take over because she was so close to finding that perfect place where nothing mattered except the wild pleasure she found in his arms.
It burst over her and she shook. Only his arms around her kept her from falling apart. He held her even tighter as he ground out his own pleasure with a chest-deep groan.
Once the sweet pleasure had subsided to a delicious little pulse between her legs, she slumped against Roman, breathless, heart about to burst with joy and something that felt a lot like love.
“Next time my pants come off,” he murmured.
She managed a laugh. “And I probably should put mine back on.”
He shifted, rolling her on to her back across the long sofa. “Not yet. We still have time, Augustine.”
Then he lowered his head to her breast, laving the starkly sensitive tips and igniting the heat inside her all over again. It looked like he meant to make the most of whatever time they had together. Gus hoped it was a long while.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Roman glanced around the cemetery, watchful and tense. What kind of twisted fuck planned a meeting at midnight in a place where everyone was dead?
Unless the informant meant the setting as a warning Augustine was too stubborn to heed.
“Stay close to me.” He reached for her hand. If someone was getting brutally murdered here, it would be him. Gus’s punishment would be going through life knowing he’d valiantly saved hers and that she would never find another lover who could satisfy her the way he did.
Three times in an hour and a half was practically a record for him these days. Not that he felt old—especially when he was with her—but lately he’d been considering how the years were passing. Lately, he’d spent far more time chasing down reluctant votes on the Hill than women.
Maybe because, despite it all, he really only wanted one.
“You’re too nervous, babe,” Gus said with a nonchalance he wasn’t sure could possibly be real. “It’s just a conversation. It’s going to be a piece of cake.”
Right…
He’d satisfied her far too well. That was the problem. She had the look of a well-loved woman, one who didn’t care that she was about to die because she’d already had the best orgasm of her life, and everything else was downhill from there. He should have held something back. Then maybe she would have rethought her whole let’s-meet-a-potential-killer-in-the-dark-of-night plan.
There was a reason he’d gone into politics. The backstabbing in the Beltway was figurative…usually.
Except what had happened to Joy—as well as Constance, Mad, and the admiral… He shoved his thoughts of the string of bodies aside. Life was fleeting, and he’d lost so many years with Gus already. He couldn’t let his idiocy continue to come between them.
“Pretend it’s a simple walk in the moonlight,” she went on, squeezing his hand.
“More like a walk in the mud,” Roman grumbled. At least the rain had stopped, but his Louis Vuitton loafers were sinking into the soft earth. Every time he pulled them free with a squishy sound, he winced.
“You are determined to be Eeyore,” she shot back. “You know some men would think this is sexy. It’s very Mission: Impossible. Connor does stuff like this all the time, and I bet when he gets home from an assignment he has incredible sex with his wife.”
There were a few things wrong with her scenario. “Connor was trained to do this stuff, and I assure you he wouldn’t be thinking about sex if Lara was in danger.”
“Bet you’re wrong.”
Maybe he was. After all, he was still thinking about sex. Roman couldn’t help it. His whole body felt languid, loose, as though his muscles hadn’t yet caught up with his paranoid brain. His cock couldn’t think about anything but how good it had felt to have Gus’s mouth wrapped around it, sucking, licking, and lavishing it with singular affection.
Damn it, he needed to get his head out of the sack and into the present.
He paused, glancing around the cemetery. “This place is surprisingly more expansive than I imagined. Any idea where we’re supposed to meet this guy? Did he give you instructions? Third gravestone from the left or something?”
In the silvery moonlight, he could see her biting that sexy bottom lip of hers as she considered the question. She scanned the area, her eyes lighting on something in the distance. “Well,
if I was going to hide, I’d do it there.” She pointed. “If you stand under that awning, no one would be able to see you since the moon’s behind it.”
He followed the direction of her finger. Up a small hill rested what looked like a damn crypt at the edge of a copse of trees. The darkest, nastiest, best-place-to-be-horrifically-murdered spot on the grounds. Unfortunately, she was probably right.
“Son of a bitch.”
Gus started up the hill. “So Everly and Lara have met this guy? Back in DC?”
He knew what she was doing, keeping him talking so he didn’t flip his shit, throw her over his shoulder, and run for the hills—not the literal hills. The killer was likely lurking there, but at the least he would run back to the B&B and call the “bizzies.” Instead, he gripped her hand and marched up toward the freaking crypt—and likely his death. “Everly met him in New York shortly after Mad’s funeral. Lara encountered him in DC a few weeks later. Now he’s hopped the pond and come after you.”
“But he never talked to Holland. Don’t you find that interesting?”
Roman had never thought about that. “I don’t know why.”
“What kind of information did he give the others?”
“Complete shit.” Roman had no idea why they were giving in to this pot stirrer. “He talks in fucking riddles. Whoever this asshole is, he’s seen way too many movies. Lara’s crazy friend Freddy has been way more helpful. He’s completely insane but the dude can weave a really tight conspiracy theory that holds together. And he’s good with PowerPoint presentations.”
When they reached the top of the hill, a shadow peeled away from the wall of the crypt. “I’m so sorry to have disappointed you, Mr. Calder. I’ll try harder this time to give you information that’s not complete shit.”
Roman frowned because that wasn’t the deep voice of a man. It was on the low side and definitely strong, but it sounded female. That made him stop in his tracks. He pulled Augustine back. “Who are you?”