King of Hearts (Deuces Wild Book 1)

by Irish Winters

  He’d rambled on about other kinds of sails and how different the concept of sailing was from country to country. She now knew about the Dhow, an Arabic version of a sailing ship, still very much a part of daily business on the Persian Gulf. The Spritsail of Greco-Roman invention. The Lateen. The Bermuda Rig. Something called a Square Rig. Honestly, the man could talk ships and boats nearly more than she could listen.

  But listen she did, because Tucker came to life when he talked ships and boats, and she loved the light in his eyes. She’d seen yet another side to him today. He adored his son and that adoration had put him in harm’s way, yet not once had Tucker hesitated to step into the line of fire for his child. And that was another thing. The man had turned into a bigger-than-life predator. One minute she had truly doubted him. The situation with Simon Siegel seemed hopeless. All looked lost from her point of view and her limited outlook. She didn’t know how Tucker could ever live without his son—especially to see the poor boy hanged in front of his eyes. To see him choke and kick—ahh! Just thinking about it broke her heart. She wiped the backs of her fingers through her lashes.

  But Tucker must not have seen what she’d seen. He’d just acted. Now Deuce and Isaiah were below deck playing a card game called Tiến lên over bottles of soda, and even a little bit of laughter. Deuce was still heartbroken at the death of his friend. It would take time to heal, but it would happen. She of all people knew that.

  Her heart swelled with peace. Tucker had gone below to get her a wrap. It gave her time to think and time to be thankful for the men in her life.

  She never thought she’d fall in love again, but fall she had. The FBI agent she’d once found more attractive than civilized, she now saw in a different light. Yes, she still lusted after his body, but she loved him. Tucker wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for her. They’d walked on different paths, and yet they’d walked the same path, too. A path of hardship and struggle, loneliness, and sometimes despair, yet there they were. Both had come full circle to find what they were looking for in each other’s eyes.

  A woven wrap fell softly over her as Tucker leaned into her neck with a hot, moist kiss, his hands clamped onto her shoulders. “Melissa,” he breathed, his voice hoarse and raspy, a tremor of something she couldn’t name in his tone. “I need to know. Did you mean it? Would you really...?” He turned her into his muscular arms, his big broad chest taking up her view.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her fingers to his roughened cheek, her heart aching at the thought he might still be unhappy. She smoothed the pad of her thumb over his cheek, filled with the desire to kiss his poor eyelid that had barely just opened. To kiss the still healing scrapes and bruises from all the beatings he’d taken. To make love to this incredible man until he forgot all of his troubles.

  He dipped his nose to hers. “Nothing’s wrong, babe. I just want to marry you. Would you ever—”

  “Yes,” she bit out quickly and certainly, not a shadow of doubt in her mind. “Yes, Tucker. I’ll marry you.” She eased her palm to the nape of his neck and tugged his forehead to hers just so she could look into those sexy blue eyes that right then reflected the sea and the sky and all of her heart. “I love you, Tucker Chase. Right here. Right now. And every single day after this one.”

  A choke caught in his throat, a funny little sound, and she knew she was witnessing a rare thing. Tucker Chase wiped his eyes before his tears spilled, but she’d seen them glimmering at the edge of his eyelids. She knew. This man had the tender heart of a lion. Pure gold.

  He growled and turned her around to face the cabin and living quarters, and there stood Jacob and Noah in traditional Vietnamese costumes. Isaiah and Deuce too, both grinning like cats that had eaten the proverbial canary. They almost looked like priests, decked out in simple black brocade tunics with the stiff mandarin collars. Obviously borrowed clothes. Obviously up to no good. Obviously not playing cards like she’d thought.

  “You mean right now?” She had to ask.

  “Yes, babe. Right here and right now. Noah’s the captain of his boat. He can do it.” Tucker engulfed her under his arm. His hand snaked under her long wrap and settled like a catcher’s mitt over one cheek of her ass. He gripped her hard enough that he started a chain reaction that launched from her suddenly pebbled nipples to her clenching tummy, and all those other body parts reserved exclusively for Tucker.

  Her heart exploded with the implications of this wonderful, rash decision. She’d be Mrs. Tucker Chase by nightfall. By bedtime. By hell—

  “Yes,” she breathed, never so sure about anything before in her life.

  “You must dress,” Noah said sternly, his arm extended and his finger pointing for her to go below.

  “You have a... a wedding dress... for me?” She couldn’t believe these devious men in her life.

  “And pretty shoes,” Jacob answered while Noah nodded solemnly, both indicating she should go.

  “Hurry,” Tucker muttered as he shooed her along with a sharp smack on her ass. “Don’t take all day.”

  She couldn’t help it. She giggled like a little girl as she rushed to do his bidding. Darn that arrogant, smug man of hers. He did things to her. And that spank to her backside? It stung, but it also elicited a wash of feminine tears between her thighs. It made her want to be compliant, to please him. To put that smoky, sexy light in his eyes while she drooled all over him. To do anything that would get her hands on him and him inside of her body where he belonged.

  She hurried back to his side after she’d dressed in the simple long, red silk gown laid out on her bunk. Just for grins and future giggles, she left her underwear in her room. He’d promised something with that hard sting on her ass, hadn’t he? This would be a short ceremony, right?

  Anticipation swept through her veins like molten lava. By the time she’d maneuvered the stairs up to the deck in the pretty stiletto heels, her body was in sexual overdrive, half predator and completely famished.

  Tucker’s mouth dropped when she came straight to him. He pulled her easily into his chest, that misty shimmer in his eyes again. “God, I love you,” he ground out, “so damned hard, babe. Look at you. You’re—”

  She made sure Deuce was out of range before she tipped up to her toes to nuzzle Tucker’s ear and whispered, “Wet.”

  The stifled groan that came from his gut was all Melissa needed. “You’re killing me,” he grumbled back at her, his voice pitched low and feral. Hot as hell.

  She loved the power she held over this wickedly dominant male who thought he ruled the world, and that every woman wanted to be with him. Ha. That day was past. Tucker Chase was effectively off the market and unavailable for future engagements. He was spoken for and about to get what he had coming to him.

  The sun was low on the western horizon. The whole world turned pinkish orange as if it were on fire along with them. Even the river reflected a golden heat, and this—this was where her life began again. This was her bright and glowing future and her renewal, a definite baptism of fire if those male fingers smoothing over her ass, probably searching for a panty line, meant what she hoped they meant. Tucker needed to burn with her, to leave his past with all its heartache behind him, and to jump into this new life with her.

  He turned her to face him, his dark eyes smoldering with some unspoken question. What could she say? She wanted this man in her heart for the rest of her life. And longer. “Are you ready for me?” she breathed, licking her bottom lip with one slow, sensual sweep of the tip of her tongue.

  His eyes followed the movement. He swallowed hard, lifting her hand to his mouth to bite her knuckles, never breaking eye contact as he pressed a warm, moist kiss to the bite. “I’ve been ready for months, woman.”

  Animal heat shuddered off of him, melting her into a puddle at his feet. The man was sinfully dangerous and gloriously handsome. And now he was hers.

  Melissa could barely swallow past the hard knot in her throat. How could she last through the ceremony and a reception?
Breathing hard, she turned with Tucker to face the honorable Noah Giang as one, their fingers intertwined, Tucker’s other hand possessively cupping her hip. Yes, she was going up in flames.

  Noah offered a delightful prayer in Vietnamese, then repeated it in English before he pronounced the impulsive, happy couple man and wife. Jacob presented them with a stunning porcelain vase covered in blue vines and flowers, along with the symbols for double happiness. He took careful time to explain the lovely story behind the Vietnamese tradition, but Melissa could barely contain herself, her body weeping with desire for the stalwart warrior at her side, the man etching circles of lust with his fingernails over her hip bone.

  Isaiah offered a gentlemanly bow, then offered a toast to the happy couple.

  Deuce lifted his goblet and belted out an unexpected, “Oo-rah!”

  Tucker grumbled, “I have got to teach that boy not to say jarhead shit like that.”

  And Melissa McCormack became Mrs. Tucker Chase. Forever.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  After a quick snack of grilled tiger prawns, sticky rice, and enough rice wine toasts to make a man see stars, Tucker politely excused himself and his new bride. They had an appointment to keep, and he would make certain they kept it.

  He aimed a stern finger at Deuce as he snagged Melissa by her elbow. “You. No more wine, and you—” The next pointed warning went to Isaiah. “Make sure that’s his only glass. He needs more than wine in his stomach. Make him eat more shrimp and rice. Vegetables. They’re good for him.”

  Isaiah grinned. “Will do, boss,” even as Deuce whined, “Aw, Dad.”

  Tucker didn’t think twice. He had a woman to make love with and the hard-on from hell. That red silk kimono thing Melissa had slithered into had to go. It hugged her sumptuous ass and her tantalizing hips like a fine-fitting glove, teasing him with the promise of a warm, wet welcome home, but damn it. Her nipples had been on high beam since she’d put the thing on.

  Did she mean for that slinky piece of silk to slither over her thighs and hug her toned tummy and hips like it did? Did she have any idea what she was doing to him and most likely every other horny male topside? Maybe even Deuce? He had to get her out of sight and naked and bent over something, his body speared inside of hers before he lost his mind.

  She giggled as he escorted her, maybe a little too quickly, away. “I’m coming as fast as I can.”

  “No, babe, you’re not,” he growled down low in her ear. “Trust me. There’s no such thing as a woman coming fast enough for a guy. Now get your ass downstairs.”

  She leaned her hip to the banister, sliding down it, a little tipsy from one too many toasts for all that double happy marriage business. Those Giangs could certainly hold their liquor. Tucker wasn’t feeling it, but Melissa sure was.

  Never in a million years had he expected her to be so impulsive—or so naughty. The woman had sex on her brain. It showed in the way she rubbed up against him, the way she let her fingers stray down his gut to his belt. He meant to give it to her, any and every way she wanted it.

  “This way, babe.” He steered her down the hall and into the one and only double-bed cabin onboard. “Get rid of that dress,” he ordered even as he jerked out of his pants and unbuttoned that annoying high collar on his ridiculous black tunic. It made him look like a priest, the last thing he was. He made quick work of dragging the bed covers and pillows to the floor. He wouldn’t need blankets for a while, but he did need a nice flat surface for this next mission.

  She’s mine, he thought. Finally. She said yes, and she meant it, we’re married, and she’s all mine. How’d I ever get so lucky?

  “But Tuck… er...” She slurred his name, her high-heeled feet spread and her bright blue eyes full of enough stars to make a man’s heart swell with pride. And that damned dress still on. “You could be a little more... ro... man... tic. After all, it is our wedding night.”

  “Romance comes later,” he quipped. With one quick step into her space, he bent to catch the hem of her silk and stripped the dress up and off her lush, tempting body. Yep. She was stark-ass naked beneath that dress, just as he’d suspected. The tease.

  This was a different side to Melissa McCormack. Her eyes widened in surprise. The silly woman actually covered her overflowing breasts with both hands, her fingers splayed. She might have been able to hide those mouthwatering mauve nipples, but she couldn’t conceal much of the billowing, creamy pillows he intended to bury his face between the minute she was on her back. Not the uniquely feminine scent lifting into his nostrils, either, nor the triangular garden of delight at the juncture of her legs.

  But those heels? God, help me now. His blood boiled at the sight of her long legs, and what he could do to her with them wrapped around him. He’d been hard for days, but seeing her stripped naked, watching her dare-me chin lift, and the soft tipsy glow of love in her eyes... knowing she loved him...

  He tugged her into his arms and angled her over his knee. With one sharp but playful smack to that wiggling ass, he growled, “No bra? No panties? On a boat full of men? You’re a tease, little girl. You’ve got this one coming.”

  She arched backward, her head up while she brought one hand around, trying to cover her derrière, but still giggling like a naughty little girl. “You’re spanking me?”

  He leveled her head toward the floor just to tilt her ass higher, but then…

  His red palm print on her tender flesh stopped him cold. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hurt her. Not Melissa. A tremble started in his heart. Memories of the abuse he’d suffered at his father’s hands and fists rolled back on Tucker. No. He couldn’t let himself morph into that monster. The blustering, pig-headed, obnoxious level he’d sunk to wasn’t him. It had to stop. Here. Now.

  He placed his palm over the heated mark on her backside and bowed his head even as she squirmed and giggled. “Tucker! You’re making me laugh.”

  Yeah, well…

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, more contrite than he’d ever been in his life. More ashamed. Not once had he ever raised a hand to Deuce. Why the urge to unleash his angst on Melissa now? On her wedding night? For fun? The compulsion blew Tucker away. This was not who he wanted to be. Not at all.

  His heart deflated along with the rest of him. He swallowed hard, bringing Melissa upright on his knees, her face still aglow with rice wine and love, her body flushed. That humbled him more. He’d taken advantage of her when she was compromised, when he should’ve been the one taking especially good care of her, instead of rutting like some egotistical—SEAL.

  He could barley meet the question in her eyes. God, he’d been such an ass. Everyone was right. Melissa deserved someone better than him.

  She hooked one elbow around his neck, her other hand at his chest and her breath in his face. “Are you okay?” she asked, still dizzy enough she tilted backward.

  “I am now,” he growled, steadying her with a palm to the middle of her back, “and I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”

  She cocked her head, looking at him through a mess of silky blonde tangles. “You didn’t hurt me, Tuck. Honest.” She blew at her strands of hair, but they went nowhere. “I knew you were playing. You’d never hurt me.”

  “Yeah, but I was playing rough. Too rough.” Besides Deuce, Melissa was that one pure thing in his life. Tucker quelled his emotions. He dipped one hand to her cheek and smoothed her hair out of her eyes, tugging the loose strand behind her ear. Leaning in to kiss the end of her nose, he manned-up and took control of his and Melissa’s future. “I’d like to get it right this time, babe. For once, I’d like to be the man you think you see in me. I’d like to be—” he gulped “—worthy of you.”

  Her lips curled in a sexy, drunken half-smile. “Then give me a kiss, big guy, because I’m on fi-i-i-r-r-r-r-r-e and I’m tired of waiting.”

  Tucker very nearly grinned at the salacious pout to her delectable lips. Melissa did tend to think she was a sex kitten when she’d had a glass of wine. Unti
l this moment, he’d always maintained that line of propriety between them. He’d put her to bed when she’d gotten like this, and he’d done nothing more than snuggle with her. Not once had he taken advantage of her inebriated state. He’d been honorable.

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked, giving her a way out.

  She nodded, saucy curls bouncing at her shoulders, dripping over her bare breasts in a luxurious cascade. “I love you, Tucker. I need you. Please make love to me again. Don’t make me wait. Give it to me. I want all of you. Every day. Maybe twice.” She ended lifting her shoulders with a shrug.

  Enough said. He couldn’t refuse his woman on her wedding night, could he?

  Tenderly, Tucker eased Melissa onto the bed, laying her head on the pillow. She stared up at him, breathless, her pulse throbbing at the satiny hollow of her neck. The time for talk was over.

  Melissa gave him no time for second thoughts. With a cute growl, she latched onto the nape of his neck and drew him into the heavenly warmth of her wet mouth. That was all it took to get him back in the game. One taste. One promise of forever.

  He eased one knee between her thighs while he smoothed a hand over her ribcage to her breast. The sweet tango of tongues began in earnest. Tugging at her nipple, he scraped the pad of his thumb over the tip, pebbling it. Tucker made soft, gentle love to her mouth, urging her to climb that celestial staircase with him, needing her to fly with him. That was what made her different than others. She aspired to be with him in everything he did. She wanted him like no one else ever had.

  She writhed beneath him, setting his body on fire. Tucker fit inside the cradle of her hips as if he’d been made for her, as if he’d finally found where he belonged. He was lost in a sensual world of silky hair, satin skin, and the luscious scent of his all American girl.