by Shayla Black
Dax groaned as she began to take him deeper. She ran her tongue over his velvety flesh, drawing him into her mouth. He was so big, but she could handle him. One hand cupped his heavy testicles, rolling them and making him squirm and beg for more.
She took her time, making the moment last. Dragging her tongue over and around, she didn’t want to miss an inch. She worked him inside, opening herself bit by bit as he murmured to her. He told her how much he loved her, how happy he was, how she would someday agree to marry him.
She had news for him. Someday was sooner than he would think.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth, Holland.” His hand tugged on her hair. “You keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll take over.”
There was only so much he could take before he gave into his alpha-male instincts. She would try to remember that because she wanted to be on top this time. She gave him one last lick before she sat up. When she started to tug at her undies, he stopped her.
“Let me help.” He reached for the sides of her lacy panties and ripped them apart before tossing them off the bed. “See. That was easy.”
He was hell on her lingerie, but she had to admit, it made what she was about to do so much easier.
She straddled him, sliding her aching folds over his cock. She was so wet she didn’t need any more play. She just wanted Dax inside her, connected to her. The day without him had been too long. She needed the reminder of where she belonged. With him. Always with him.
He gripped her hips and began guiding her down. As he filled her, she leaned in and kissed him. Their bodies entwined and she moved with him.
Together, they found a rhythm. She took him deep. His hands moved over her body, taking and giving. His hips thrust up, sending him deeper and deeper, and they got lost in their connection. She rode his cock, their eyes locked. He’d told her he loved her, couldn’t want anyone else, and finally she was able to give the words back to him.
When his finger found her clitoris and pressed down, she rode that wild wave of pleasure only he could give her. She felt him stiffen under her, the hot wash of his own pleasure sending her spiraling again.
Finally she sank onto his body, curling herself around him. As the blood pounded through her she knew she would never leave him again.
“I think I’m ready for that ring now.”
Dax jerked up on his elbow, staring down at her, gaze searching. “Are you serious? Be sure, Holland, because this is forever.”
“I’m sure. But we are not going to Vegas.” She wouldn’t be swayed on that.
He reached over and grabbed the box. He had that ring on her finger before she could take another breath. “No Vegas. I love you. We can go anywhere you like.”
She had a plan. “I’ve heard there’s a lovely rose garden here.”
It would be the perfect place to start their lives together.
TWENTY-ONE
Roman adjusted his chair, scanning the area for one of his aides. Air Force Two was brimming with White House staff on their way to London. They would set up everything for the president, who would come on his own in about a week.
He glanced out the window as they jetted farther and farther from D.C.
“You want a drink?” Connor asked, sliding into the seat across from him.
“I probably had enough at the wedding,” he admitted.
Earlier in the afternoon, Dax and Holland had said their vows in the Rose Garden, a small ceremony capped off with a party thrown by the president. About fifty people had attended, but naturally Roman only had eyes for one.
Augustine Spencer had been Holland’s maid of honor. The bride hadn’t stuffed her lone attendant in some nasty pastel gown. Oh no. Not Augustine Spencer. She’d worn an emerald green sheath that hugged her every curve and a plunging neckline that caught the eye of every man in the room.
She was the sexiest thing alive and she knew it.
“You know we could have waited until tomorrow,” Connor said. “I was surprised you decided to head out tonight.”
If he hadn’t, he would have been forced to deal with Gus, who thought she belonged on this trip. He’d explained that she could come out with Liz and Zack next week. He’d sprung it on her when she’d been too tied up to work her magic.
For once, he’d managed to put one over on her.
“Yes, well, if I’d waited we wouldn’t be alone. Gus would be here and then we would have to deal with her sticking her nose in our business.”
A smile curled up Connor’s lips. “So this was your way of sneaking out on your work wife?”
Maybe he would have another drink after all. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”
He didn’t put the words “wife” and “Gus” in the same sentence—ever. When he finally married, it wouldn’t be to a mouthy, brazen sex bomb. Gus tied his stomach in knots. Gus made him crazy.
No, he’d choose someone who calmed and soothed him. Like Joy. Though she’d been Zack’s, Joy was exactly what Roman sought in a wife. Faithful, kind, even-tempered, demure. If she’d lived, Joy would have been a wonderful mother. She would have given Zack a serene home to return to every night.
That was what Roman craved. Simple, blessed peace. He’d seen too much so-called passion from his parents. His childhood had been marked by their fights and their constant making up and breaking up. The upheavals had been chaos, and he refused to go through it again.
It was precisely why he’d broken it off with her back in college. He’d known it couldn’t work. So why couldn’t he get his mind off Gus even decades later? Why had he watched her dancing with another man and wanted to rip her out of the asshole’s arms?
She turned him into a caveman and he wouldn’t have it. He was doing the right thing in leaving Gus behind, and when he returned from this trip, maybe he’d put some real distance between them once and for all.
Because working with her every day and not touching her was slowly driving him mad.
“Have we found the mysterious Sergei? Do we have any idea how he’s connected to Boris?” He needed to focus on something else, like the mysterious man coming after Zack.
Finally, they had a name and a trail. So he and some of the others were heading to England to investigate Constance Hayes’s death. Maybe they’d finally uncover the secrets she’d been hiding and who killed her for them.
“I’ve got a PI in Russia running them both down for me. Do you really think Sergei could be Zack’s half brother?” Connor asked.
It was the only explanation that made sense, given what they knew. “If they’re coming after Zack to blackmail him, it’s a good play. He’s going into another election. Our enemies would never let anyone forget that the president is related to a Russian mobster. Let me know the minute you find out anything about that man.”
“You got it.” Connor nodded.
“What man?” a familiar voice asked. “Are we plotting? The great Roman Calder loves a good plot.”
Roman froze, then cursed under his breath.
Gus slid into the seat beside him and crossed those long legs of hers that made him think of sin. She’d changed into a skirt and silky blouse that couldn’t quite hide the fact that she was cold. Her nipples were nearly visible.
Just like that his cock hardened.
Connor sent him a shit-eating grin. “I should have mentioned that we had a last-minute addition.”
“Lucky for you, I pack fast, Calder.” She sat back, her lips curling up like a cat who’d stolen the cream.
“I will have that drink after all, Connor.” It looked like he was going to need it.