“I put the bottle next to the iPod. I know it’s one of the fastest ways to get into your pants.”
“You don’t need cologne for that. Although it helps.”
Jack let go of her hand and stopped moving, gently stroking her face. “I will always take care of you,” he said. “Always. Even when you don’t want me to.”
Caroline had done a good job of avoiding too many tears during the day, but she was exhausted. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could control her emotions. “I know.” She swallowed hard. “You saved me, Jack. Me and the girls. I don’t know where we’d be without you.”
“You saved me too.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s call it a draw.”
She swayed back into him, listening to the song. “I know you’ll watch over me. My shepherd.”
Jack wrapped his arms around her again. “You’re a sucker for these old standards, aren’t you?”
Caroline laughed through her now unavoidable tears. “Don’t tell anyone.”
He brushed the tears away. “Every day I thank God he brought you to me. Every. Day.”
“I’ll always be good,” she whispered. “Just for you.”
Jack chuckled. “You take these lyrics too seriously, sweetheart. You’re getting all sappy on me.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know you’ll be good,” he said quietly. “Because it’s who you are. I know how precious a gift that is. And I will always protect you, because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You saved all the good lines for tonight, I see.” Caroline kissed his fingers, just above his wedding ring. “My romantic husband.”
“I like the sound of that. Caroline Gerard’s husband.”
“Now who’s being the sap?”
“I’ve got plenty more where that came from,” he said, kissing her neck.
The song was almost over. “Is this the only dance I get?” Caroline asked.
Jack pulled her toward the bedroom. “More later, I promise. Right now, let’s engage in some traditional wedding night revelry.”
“Opening our gifts and passing out in exhaustion?”
He picked her up and set her down on the bed. “Try again.” He unstrapped her shoes and removed his tuxedo vest and shirt. “I’m particularly hopeful about the prospect of a night of unbridled passion and unprotected sex.”
“My romantic husband has a blunt way of speaking that endears him to everyone,” Caroline said, to no one in particular.
“You promised me.” He lifted her up off the bed and moved behind her. “I was very understanding.”
“I can’t help it if I’m paranoid.”
Jack began kissing her shoulders. “I had a vasectomy, Caroline. And you’ve got an IUD. It would take a literal Act of God for you to get pregnant.”
“I thought you should have to work for it,” she said, as he slid a hand around her waist. “Gotta take the vows before we go bareback. You earned your prize. Congratulations.”
“Mean woman. Giving me all sorts of ultimatums. Run for governor or I won’t marry you. Use a condom until our wedding night. Don’t buy my children ponies. Stop making my student loan payments. Get a prenuptial for your own protection. Blah blah blah.”
“That last one was true. It’s not my fault you didn’t take my advice. What if I turn into a gigantic rancorous bitch and take all your money?”
Jack unzipped her dress. “I hid a lot of it before we applied for the marriage license.”
“That’s very conscientious of you.”
“And nice job using a GRE word to describe the type of woman you will never, ever be.”
“I try to keep you on your toes.”
“Caroline, I’d like to get laid at some point. This’ll go a lot easier if you hush up.”
“Not likely. You married a screamer.”
“I know.” He slid the dress off her shoulders and onto the floor.
Caroline turned to face him, tracing the outline of his lips with her fingers. Jack grinned at her with lust in his eyes as she undid his pants and let them fall to his feet.
“Nice garters,” he observed.
She stroked his cock through his boxers. “I figured you’d like them.”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go,” he said. “You got a problem with that?”
She gestured toward the wedding corset she was wearing. It hadn’t been all that comfortable but it looked sexy as hell. “Did this little thing produce that reaction?”
“You don’t want to know all the things you do that produce that reaction. You drove me nuts during the reception. Now you know why I had to spend so much time pretending to sit down at tables and make small talk with people. That contraption is going to look great on the floor next to your dress.” Jack kicked his pants to the side and leaned down to pull off his socks. “But you’re going to have to take it off because I’m at a loss here.”
Did he not see the hooks in the back? “What about the garters?”
“Those glorious white specimens stay on. Maybe forever.”
Caroline undid the corset and threw it on the carpet. It wasn’t a particularly difficult task. “I never would have thought a sophisticated, worldly man like you would be bamboozled by a piece of lingerie.”
“I don’t want to ruin it.” Jack traced a path down her breasts. “I’d prefer you be able to wear it again, and again, and again. So that you can take it off again, and again, and again.”
His hands charted their course further downward. Caroline ran her fingers through Jack’s hair as he removed her underwear before kissing a trail back up her body.
“I love you, my darling. My Monty,” she whispered. She smiled, pulling him up to a standing position. His blue eyes were shining with joy and desire. “You can call me Mrs. McIntyre any time you want.”
“Every day for the rest of our lives.” Jack kissed her deeply, pushing her back down on the bed, easing his boxers off and straddling her waist. He yanked her hands over her head.
“Mine,” he whispered.
“Yours,” she said.
He leaned down to nip at her neck. “All mine. No one else’s. No sharing.”
Caroline moaned softly. “Did you think I was going to sleep with other people?”
Jack pulled back to look at her with a wanton glint in his eyes. Oh, he wanted to play, did he? She could play.
“I belong to you,” she whispered.
He slid down so that the tip of his cock teased her entrance. He wasn’t wasting any time. “Mine,” he repeated, and thrust inside her. “All. Fucking. Mine.”
She cried out and he bit her shoulder. That one would leave a mark, but they were leaving for Rome the next day. It had been a chilly fall. Maybe she could get away with a turtleneck. He bit her again and she whimpered. Pain turned her on. Really turned her on. The movement of his hips felt incredible too. Sweet pleasure coupled with a hint of pain.
“I’m not going to go this long without touching you ever again,” he whispered.
Jack moved into the house in Rockville shortly after she accepted his proposal. They promised each other to try to behave during the week before the wedding. It seemed torturous after having the freedom to be with each other whenever they wanted in the weeks leading up to the ceremony. Now Caroline felt like he hadn’t been inside her for months. She was desperate for more. She wanted to say all of that out loud but only mustered a barbarous grunt in response.
“You’re mine,” he said. “Mine to touch whenever I want, wherever I want.” He thrust inside her again, so deeply it almost hurt. Then he did it again. And again. And over and over again, until she tugged at his hair in a futile effort to get closer to him.
“Please,” she gasped.
Jack stopped his thrusting. “Please, what?”
If he didn’t keep up what he was doing, she was convinced that she might literally die. “Don’t stop.”
He released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her head. “Tell me what you
want. Exactly what you want.”
The request came rushing out, her lips loosened by too many glasses of champagne. The one she’d wanted to make for weeks. “Fuck me,” she said. “Any way you want, for as long as you want, as hard as you want. The way you’ve wanted to fuck me since the day we met.”
Jack pulled back to look at her again. He was withdrawing from the game, just for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Anything goes.”
That could mean any number of delectable things and he knew it. He slid inside her again. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
She reached up to caress his cheek. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much. I promise.”
He bent down to kiss her. “Woman, you kill me,” he whispered.
She couldn’t help but grin. “I know. Consider it a wedding present to us both.”
He groaned. “By the way, I’m never wearing a condom ever again, unless there’s a very good reason for it. Jesus Christ.”
Caroline smiled. “That good, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
She clenched the bedsheets as he drove deeper inside her again. “You feel good too,” she gasped.
Jack gripped her hair, hard enough to sting. “I won’t stop unless you tell me. Even if you’re screaming or crying or clawing at me. Because I’ll assume that means you like the way I’m fucking you.”
Dirty words filled with dirty promise. “I understand.”
He rocked back and forth against her. “Is this what you want?”
What he was doing felt amazing, but if he was going to do this to her all night she may as well be truthful. “Honestly?” she asked.
He pulled out of her. “I suppose. Unless you want to start issue avoidance now. But I think we should wait until we’ve been married for more than a day.”
She wanted him back inside her as quickly as possible but she recognized the look in his eyes. He wouldn’t be happy until she was screaming with pleasure. “I’d maybe like a little orgasm or two before you destroy me for all other men.”
Jack smiled, kissing his way down her torso until he reached her clit. “I can handle that.” He reached up to snatch the pillow out of her hand. “Don’t. I want to hear every obscene sound you make.”
“We’re in a fancy hotel.”
“I don’t care. All the other guests get to find out exactly what I plan on doing to you on a regular basis.”
“I won’t have a voice tomorrow.”
He slid a finger inside her. “We won’t be doing very much talking over the next few days.”
“I-”
“Be quiet,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to suck on her clit. “You’re allowed to whimper, moan, and say my name, but that’s it.”
He spent an eternity between her legs. Could have been twenty minutes, could have been an hour. She lost track of time, lost count of the number of orgasms, neglected to tell him to slow down or stop. He’d give her a little break, then start in again. She kept tugging at his hair, which seemed to encourage him since he’d growl and speed up his movements each time she did it. Caroline was close to passing out before he even raised his head.
“Please,” she whispered.
He pulled himself on top of her. “Oh, did you want me to stop?”
She’d lost her ability to articulate. “Inside. Now.”
He bit her neck and pushed himself into her. “That’s the last time you get to tell me what to do.”
“Ever?”
“Tonight. We’ll renegotiate the terms of our marriage later.” He thrust up inside her again. “Fuck, you feel fucking incredible.”
Her breath hitched. Words failed her. He kept moving, spurred on by her whimpers, her pleas, and finally, her screams. Over and over, again and again, for far longer than he’d been between her thighs. He finished inside her in a rush, coming hard enough that she felt it in her toes.
Jack pressed his forehead to hers, panting. “All right?”
She trailed her fingers down his back, sighing when he slid out of her. She could still feel the warmth he left behind. “I love you,” she whispered.
He rolled over until she was on top of him. “Good. That was just a taste of what I’m going to do to you tonight. Are you ready?”
She snuggled into his neck. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Fed
They’d gone to Rome on their honeymoon. Christmas in Philadelphia. An uneventful primary victory. Months of building their family, forming a closer bond. The winter and spring passed quickly, the girls finished school, and Caroline and Jack flew them up to camp…which left the entire summer for campaigning and carousing.
She tried to remember the good stuff. Focusing on anything else only deepened the gloom. And she couldn’t think about Marguerite and Sophie, no matter how wonderful the memory. Each little flash of her children wounded her more. So she blocked them out the best she could.
June. July. That summer. She could reminisce about that extraordinary summer.
After she refused to talk to Bob, they left her alone in her cell for what seemed like days. She couldn’t be sure. They left her in the dark, too. Permanent, awful darkness.
She hated the dark. Especially when she was alone. She used to spend occasional summer weekends at a college friend’s house in Door County, Wisconsin. The blackness of the woods behind the cabin had terrified her. In the middle of nowhere, no light could be found. Her eyes had never been that good at adjusting and she used to imagine people coming in to the bedroom of the cabin late at night, standing next to her bed.
When in a city or a suburb, she could always open the blinds. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d leave a light on in the hall or have a small nightlight plugged in. It was never really an issue in the Governor’s Mansion or anywhere else she and Jack inhabited. There were enough outdoor lights shining in through the windows to quell her fears.
She did her best to ignore the depression that came with the darkness. Funny how she’d never really considered the long term effects of not being able to see. Of noticing colors and textures, being able to observe her surroundings and analyze them. Or to simply enjoy them. Her feelings for her cell were far from affectionate but at least when the lights were on she had something to fucking look at. She tried to build a routine. But the monotony made her loopy.
Drink from the faucet. Piss in the toilet. Try to sleep without dreaming. Stare into darkness.
Drink. Piss. Sleep. Stare.
Drink. Piss. Sleep. Stare.
Lather, rinse, repeat?
She laughed at her own terrible joke. A shower. How awesome would that be? She hadn’t bathed in what had to be weeks now. The closest she came was when she carefully and methodically rinsed any dried blood off her nose, cheek, and hands until the water ran clear. It was hard to wash your face when it was busted up.
Even if they offered her a shower, she’d refuse. She had seen no female guards. Observed nothing to indicate that showering would be anything other than a danger. She could stand to be stinky. How much worse could it be?
Do you really want to know the answer to that question?
Drink.
Piss.
Sleep.
Stare.
A person could go mad in the dark. Could go mad from other things too. Her captors seemed to be hitting every note on the psychotic hit parade. She could slowly feel her stability slipping away during each moment she grappled with chronic pain. Her crippling loneliness threatened to snap her last remaining string of lucidity. They were going to win. She couldn’t go on like this much longer. They knew exactly what they were doing with their trifecta of insanity.
She tried singing showtunes and jazz standards to lift her spirits, but that depressed her more. She yelled at the walls, hoping that she shattered the eardrums of the men watching on the cameras and listening in through the cell door. She screamed herself hoarse, cursing at the guards, at the government, at Sant
os, at the world in general. She prayed to be put out of her misery.
Caroline did the last one silently, lest the guards grant her wish.
The line between reality and imagination blurred. Did that shadow move? Did she hear a noise? She talked to herself, undoubtedly entertaining the guards even more. Half the time she didn’t know if she spoke out loud or just had entire conversations in her head. She had the interior of the room memorized. No more fumbling around. A nice little skill. She’d add it to her résumé the next time she updated it.
Can find her way to the sink and the shitter in pitch black darkness without assistance.
It would make her much more marketable. Of that she was certain.
Caroline tugged at her hair, hard enough to hurt. Her broken bones kept her in touch with her senses but fresh pain kept her right smack in the real world, where she needed to be.
Hope. The thing with feathers. She always hated that fucking poem. She’d briefly considered an English degree in college, but switched to history once she realized that all the other people in her classes were pretentious literary assholes.
Keep hope alive. Keep your head up. Keep dreaming. Keep pushin’.
What a crock of shit.
Jack will find me.
That thought often crowded her mind. Drowning out the fear she’d only voiced once. To Bob. Her feather, when her optimism started to fade. Jack was out there. She knew he was out there. And he’d come for her. Soon.
Jack will find me.
She said his name aloud, once, twice, three times. Maybe that would help.
“Jack will find me,” she whispered.
My husband will find me. Someone will find me.
Maybe if she thought about it long enough, it would happen.
Chapter Sixteen
The Fed
Was it morning? Caroline couldn’t tell. A low light buzzed in the hall and she recognized the voices echoing back and forth. Shift change. It had to be morning. How many mornings had there been? Two? Three? More? Probably more. Definitely more. Maybe she should have found a way to keep tally.
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 41