All the King's Henchmen

by Morgan Kelley

  He whispered in her ear.

  “Callen will be jealous if he misses out on making some home pornos. I’m just excited I’ll be your first.”

  Oh, and her best.

  As for Callen, she’d make it up to him later. Tonight, she was all about this sexy man, and that was going to be her big priority. She’d get him off today, and Callen on Tuesday when he came home.

  Rinse.

  Repeat.

  It was the story of her life, and she loved every damn second of it. To be with him, she’d hang out at shindigs like this. It was worth it.

  Still, she missed her other partner in crime. He was off on some book signing junket, and she was home with Ethan. Their functions crisscrossed, and she had already promised the deputy director she’d be his date.

  Or prey.

  Or victim.

  Or slutty desperate housewife.

  At this point, it was up in the air as to what her role would be for the rest of the night. Any of them would be fine with her. It would involve Ethan being dirty, and her being pleasured.

  Besides, it was only fair. Ethan deserved some one-on-one time.

  He was up to bat.

  Callen had her for the last event, and the deputy director was going to have her all night long—if she was lucky.

  “Well, he’ll live,” she said back, sniffing her husband’s pricey cologne. It smelled spicy and warm, and she wanted to swim in it. There was nothing sexier than a man who wore a tuxedo and smelled like sex.

  Hot.

  Wild.

  Heated.

  Sex.

  “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I appreciate you being here for me. I didn’t want to come alone, even if Gabe and Livy were technically going to keep me company. There’s nothing like a sexy wife on your arm.”

  Oh, she didn’t mind.

  Later, she’d be playing the starring role of sexy wife on his dick.

  “I have to disagree. You, Mr. Blackhawk, in that tuxedo…are smoking hot. So, you can thank me later—gratuitously and for a couple of hours.”

  “Intriguing.”

  It was that and so much more. Ethan was wildly turned on as his wife rubbed enticingly against him. She was making him crazy, and he couldn’t focus on anything but her.

  “Oh, it’ll be something along those lines—I’m sure,” she admitted.

  He could only hope.

  “Little Red, your hand is on my goodie basket,” he whispered.

  Oh, she was aware.

  Bringing her mouth to his, she let her lips move silkily across his. The kiss was nothing flashy, but it had someone’s attention.

  Ethan opened his eyes and could see the president watching. Instead of dwelling on the peeping asshole, he closed his eyes and let his wife show him how much she loved him.

  By way of mouth.

  Both of his hands were now on her ass, and he hoped the man saw that shiny band on his finger.

  She.

  Was.

  His.

  The old bastard could eat his heart out and fuck some hooker in frustration. Elizabeth was his, and he wasn’t letting that old pervert anywhere near her.

  Screw him.

  The man had a big old boner over Elizabeth, and he was NEVER going to get her.

  Over his dead body.

  No, over the man’s dead body too. He’d kill him if he even left one greasy fingerprint on Elizabeth. When you were married, you should be married.

  Poaching was not cool in his book, and neither was cheating.

  To him, marriage meant something. That was a bond you didn’t break, and Elizabeth was his woman.

  Well, then Callen’s, and maybe Chris’s, but not that lecherous asshole’s. He could eat his heart out and only dream of the things he and Callen had nightly.

  The best part?

  The man was worked up over it. It was clearly written all over his face. He wanted what they had, and there was NO way of him getting it. Elizabeth had turned him down, and she’d threatened to kill him more than once.

  Yeah, suck that, Damian Dean.

  Ethan may be Indian, but he didn’t have to pay for sex. He had a wife who loved him.

  As he focused on the kiss, his body vibrated with that need, sharing with her what he was feeling.

  When she broke the kiss, she practically wound around his body to hide his now prominent erection.

  “Baby,” he whispered.

  “My love,” she whispered back.

  In that moment, he was so happy.

  For him, Elizabeth had pulled out all the stops to wow the media and everyone at the function.

  She was wearing a designer gown that likely cost more than a luxury car. One of the designers, who did Jackson James’s suits, had started a new women’s line, and he gifted her with just about enough dresses to keep her in formal wear for a century.

  And this dress?

  It almost made him want to giggle.

  Because it made her look like some sleek siren from an age long ago. It was glitzy, it was glamour, and his wife with her sexily coifed hair looked like she’d rolled out of Hollywood and not the Violent Crimes Unit of the FBI.

  She was hot.

  Scorching.

  HOT.

  Oh, Callen was going to miss the unveiling later in their bed.

  “Are you naked under that thing?” he asked, teasing her earlobe as she stayed against his body. There was music playing, and to watchers, it looked like they were dancing.

  Only, it was more than that.

  It was that intimacy between a man and woman that their whole world was built from, and it was beautiful.

  It was their foundation.

  It was their carefully, and luckily, constructed world. What started as just them now encompassed so many people, and yet, they were the foundation.

  They were the center.

  His woman was the glue that held them all together.

  “Maybe,” she offered back. “What if I am?”

  “I know of a quiet little corner where you and I can go hide,” he teased. “I only need a minute of your time—especially since you’re dressed like that. Sue me. I’m weak.”

  “Oh, Ethan, while a minute sounds fine, Miss Kitty likes a lot more attention. You can do better than that, Deputy Director,” she said, putting on that purr.

  His body went rock-hard.

  Oh, Jesus.

  God help him for the sins he was going to commit later when he finally got her alone. They were going to be illegal in DC, and most of the states around them. In fact, he’d drive his own ass to jail afterward.

  He was going to break some major laws.

  How could he not?

  His wife was breaking out the big guns by playing that role under the guise of that sexy dress.

  Now, he was really turned on and hard. His dick was throbbing, and she kept rubbing against him like some sexily-clad serpent trying to lure him into sin.

  Yee-haw!

  Someone toss him an apple. Adam wanted to commit some sins in her wicked garden.

  He couldn’t wait to get her alone.

  There was going to be some wild, rough, and ruckus sex tonight when they had a chance. He hoped the designer didn’t want that dress back. It was going to be the casualty of a war.

  He was going to be the victor, and she was going to be the spoils.

  “Oh, Miss Kitty, how I long to make you purr just for me,” he said, turning down a drink from a passing waiter. As soon as it was gone, he spun his wife out, pulled her in, and dipped her so dramatically, that people stared.

  She gasped in surprise.

  Ethan simply admired the new view of her as she hung in his arms. Yes, he was checking out her breasts.

  Sue him.

  She was well-endowed, and he was damn lucky.

  The key necklace and diamond-encrusted feather, which she wore around her neck, slid up from between her breasts and pooled at her throat.

  It was their way of marking the
ir territory—with baubles and treasures to make their woman sparkle.

  And she did.

  Elizabeth sparkled like the brightest star in a dark, miserable world.

  “You already are,” she stated, as she actually purred like a very satiated kitten.

  He wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he took her right there on that one table…

  “I’m a lucky man.”

  And it was true.

  In fact, there were never truer words spoken.

  “I’m the lucky one,” she admitted.

  Ethan had become a changed man. Back at their home, he began meditating at night, sitting in the tipi that he and his brother built to honor their heritage, and reading over his grandfather’s books.

  He’d go out there, light a small fire, and practice the ways of their beliefs. He promised to be the Shaman, and he was learning. Ethan Blackhawk wasn’t running from being Native anymore.

  He was running right at it, and it showed in his attitude, behavior, and marriage.

  Timothy would be proud.

  He was calm.

  He was cool.

  He was collected.

  He was communing with the spirits instead of getting agitated with work and the world around them.

  “When we get home, I’m going to take you in every single…”

  He didn’t get to finish his truly pornographic offering to his wife. Unfortunately, someone cleared his throat and had their attention.

  Damn it.

  He was just about to put some sexy moves on his sleek, hot wife.

  “Are you two done having vertical sex on the dance floor?” Gabe asked. “You have EVERYONE, including that asshole, watching you. Congrats. You’re a spectacle.”

  Did they?

  Good.

  They were a power couple, and the rumors had changed. Now, it was no longer that he was a cheater, but that they were bored and had yet another man in their bed.

  Okay, that wasn’t a lie.

  Besides Callen, Chris sometimes slept with them. When he was struggling, or feeling lonely, he crawled into their bed and they…slept.

  Literally.

  Yeah, no one was having a four-person orgy, but let DC talk. It made them even more interesting to just about everyone—but themselves. While Chris joined them in bed, the only excitement was a movie or the news.

  The man was getting affection—not off.

  The game had changed, and life had made them rearrange their priorities for the switched-up rules.

  Gone was the fear.

  They were happy.

  Sleeping together was a family regrouping after a particularly rough day, and they liked it like that. Love was more than hot, sweaty fornication. Sometimes, it was just comforting calmness where you showed the people you loved just how much.

  Plus, honestly, it made them anticipate sex more. Before, they could just roll over and have sex. Now they had to plan it, and that made it hotter.

  “Well, it looks like I’m done now,” Ethan stated. “How disappointing. I was just going to do something truly lecherous to blow everyone’s mind.”

  “Damn it,” she muttered. “I hate you, Gabe. You have the worst timing. Ignore him, Ethan. I vote lecherous with a side of perversion.”

  He laughed.

  “Well, in that case,” Gabe said, pushing his wife toward Ethan and taking Elizabeth’s hand.

  “It’s my duty to save you both from humiliation.”

  Elizabeth left Ethan’s arms and swapped places with Livy. She was accompanying her husband and looked gorgeous in her white gown.

  Livy accepted Ethan’s hand and they all danced side by side.

  “You’re no fun,” Ethan stated. “Don’t mind the erection, Livy, I was working on my wife.”

  “CHRIST!” Gabe said in horror.

  The women both found that funny as hell.

  Gabe reined it in.

  “Well, you’re going to lose it over what he said, and it’s best to hear it from me, so that’s why I took killer here. I weigh more. I can hold her down when she flips her shit.”

  Elizabeth didn’t like that.

  At all.

  She didn’t think Gabe was kidding.

  That didn’t bode well.

  “What did he do?” she asked, knowing they’d know exactly who ‘HE’ was. The president was smiling like a petulant child, and that meant he was taking the next move in his mind games. She knew it was going to suck.

  “He wants to see us tomorrow,” Gabe stated. “He’s up to something, Ethan. Be ready for it. I wouldn’t doubt he’s planning to shit-can us both.”

  “I’ll cut that man’s dick off and…,” Elizabeth began, only to stop talking when she got ‘THE LOOK’.

  Someone wasn’t amused.

  Gabe shushed her.

  “You stay away from him! He’s waiting for you to fuck up next. He’s gunning for your husband, and he’ll take you as a consolation prize in his quest. The man has so many of his minions running amuck, no one is safe in this city. I can’t wait until his reign of terror is over. Next year, we get a new boss to ride us.”

  He was right.

  She could see Ethan looking agitated, so she went with a joke.

  “I was going to ride my boss, but you interrupted,” Elizabeth stated, pointing at Ethan, “I was working hard, too, since I almost had him out of his britches. He’s not as easy as he looks. Trust me.”

  Livy laughed.

  So did Ethan.

  “Don’t bet on that,” he stated.

  “I can definitely tell someone was happy to see someone, and it wasn’t me,” Livy teased.

  Ethan automatically put space between them like an eight-year-old boy would at his first dance.

  His wife was amused.

  Elizabeth gave her a fist bump. They loved torturing both of their husbands.

  “Don’t mess with a woman,” she stated. “We say what we think.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes.

  Oh, he was well aware.

  He’d been wrangling this bull going on twenty years, and it was exhausting.

  “I mean it, Elizabeth. Don’t go near him. If he summons you to the White House, come get me first. I don’t like the way he’s watching you. He’s a sexual deviant.”

  Ethan raised his hand.

  “Oh, sorry. I thought we were taking roll call.”

  Elizabeth winked at him.

  “Later, Big Bad Wolf.”

  “Jesus in a public pool. Can you stop thinking about sex for maybe ten minutes?”

  “NO,” they all stated.

  Clearly, they knew her.

  Elizabeth reassured him. While she appreciated his desire to help her, she could hold her own against old, bald, and disgusting. He was one jerkoff away from a pine box.

  “Let him come at me. I’ll kick his balls into his throat if he ever touches me. I’ll have him up for a sex offense charge so fast his head will spin.”

  At those words, they all glanced over at Ethan.

  He was still calm.

  They were all watching him like he was ready to blow, only he was far from it. Truth be told, he was done playing the man’s game. He’d insult Ethan, degrade him, and he’d get mad. Now, he was biding his time.

  The man was only going to be running the country for so many more months. He was a lame duck, and Blackhawk was over his bitchfest.

  To prove he was fine, he clarified.

  “I can’t sweat tomorrow,” he stated. “I have a lovely woman in my arms,” he said, winking at Livy. “I’m not accustomed to two women. Now, multiple men…”

  Livy fanned herself to tease her husband. He was wildly uncomfortable with the idea of that much dick in one place—and naked.

  “Shut it, Blackhawk,” Gabe stated. “She’s my woman, you serial sex fiend.”

  Elizabeth giggled.

  She knew their sex life puzzled Gabe and freaked him out. He was like her brother, and he blushed furiously if he pictured her ge
tting her lovin’ on with anyone, let alone three men—like the rumors stated.

  She loved torturing him.

  Ethan grinned.

  “I am who I am, and I am happy tonight.”

  Ethan was not going to be the man’s whipping boy, and he wasn’t going to be terrorized into getting an ulcer.

  President Damian Dean could kiss his tan, Native ass. He was not going to terrorize him, and that was exactly what the man wanted to do. He saw Ethan was having a good time with Elizabeth, and the president wanted to make sure Ethan was worried.

  NOT.

  HAPPENING.

  Ethan wasn’t going to freak-out. He was going to play it cool.

  He smiled at his partner in crime. Gabe was stressed, and he didn’t want to go that route. At work, it was one thing, but this was likely his ONLY night off for a month with his wife. He was going to enjoy it. She’d likely have a case soon—if there wasn’t one already on her desk.

  “I’m good, Gabe. Don’t worry about me. If he fires me then…”

  Elizabeth finished for him.

  They had a backup contingency plan in place.

  “Then we all go. Callen, Chris, and I will be right behind him on the way out that door. Oh, and as a heads-up, I will be doing ONE HELL of a media interview as to why I don’t work for the FBI anymore.”

  No one doubted it.

  “I think he knows it too. From here on out, he isn’t screwing with me or my husbands. I draw the line there.”

  Oh, Gabe was aware.

  Everyone was aware.

  Especially since she wasn’t keeping her voice down at all, and everyone was watching her.

  “Shhhhhh. Use your inside voice, Tex!”

  She rolled her eyes.

  The only thing that kept Ethan Blackhawk off of the chopping block was that Elizabeth was the best damn Fed and that she consistently got results. No other Fed could match her skill, and the president didn’t like to piss away any opportunities. He wouldn’t risk it.

  Not yet.

  She made him look good.

  Then again, roadkill could make him look good. The foulness of a dead, bloated opossum had nothing on him.

  Yeah, she disliked him.

  When you hired hookers behind your wife’s back, that tended to be the consensus.

  “Just avoid him,” Gabe said. “That’s an order. Am I making myself clear?”

  Livy laughed when Ethan dipped her next.