by Cassie Cole
He was my hero.
“We can’t lose sight of what really matters,” he finished. “We’re both too career-driven to risk something stupid.”
I finished the wine in one gulp and put the glass down. I rose from my chair, threw one leg over his body, and lowered myself onto his lap.
“Fuck our careers.”
29
Elizabeth
A hundred different emotions ran through Luca’s eyes as I straddled him on the chair and wrapped my arms around his neck. Surprise. Excitement. A little fear.
But beneath it all I could see the lust, burning brighter with every passing second. A lust which couldn’t be denied.
“Elizabeth,” he said.
“Fuck our careers,” I repeated. “I could be assassinated next week. And you’re going to lose your job no matter what happens. You might as well enjoy yourself before it ends.”
The fire in his eyes grew wider.
I leaned in slowly, devouring the way he watched me with rising excitement. He ached for me, I could tell. The look in his eyes didn’t match his words.
And I wanted him just as badly.
The kiss was a firework exploding in my sex. His hands ran up my legs and gripped my plump ass, holding me down against his now throbbing hard-on. Like a giant awakening from slumber his appetite rose and unfolded itself, kissing me hard and squeezing me tighter breathing faster while thrusting up against my sex. I imagined that each phantom thrust was his cock pushing deeper inside me. I pushed down against him hard, desperate to feel his touch.
He rose from the chair, lifting me with ease. He carried me across the cabin to the fireplace, lowering me down to the old bear-skin rug. It was soft against my back as he smothered me with his body, taking care not to press against my bandage.
“I’ve wanted you,” I whispered as he kissed me again.
“I’ve wanted you so badly it’s been painful,” he said. “A deep ache in my soul…”
I reached between us and took hold of his throbbing hard-on. “Deep in your soul, huh?”
He grinned. “There too.”
We had our clothes off quickly, and although he tried to slide his mouth down between my legs I wanted him too badly to waste any time on foreplay. I grabbed his ass and pulled him into me, and we both exhaled like we were dying as he slid all the way in.
We kissed slowly and passionately while making love on the rug, and all the while Luca wrapped his arms around me and held me close, the same way he’d protected me on the steps of the Ohio Statehouse, and since we were in the middle of nowhere we could scream our screams of ecstasy as loud as we wanted in the cabin.
*
The fire crackled next to us, giving off pulsing heat that alternated between too hot and too weak. It needed another log or two. It would only take a few seconds.
But neither of us wanted to leave the floor.
“That…” Luca said. His mouth was in my hair, a deep buzz. “That was incredible.”
“Mmm hmm,” I said happily. “You’re the best Secret Service agent I’ve ever had.”
“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.”
“Details, details.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to regret it later,” he said carefully. “I would never tell anyone about what happened, but these things have a way of getting out.”
“You’re really ruining the perfect mood.”
“Think of your campaign.”
I nuzzled against his neck and sighed. “I’ve done nothing but think about my presidential campaign since I was a teenager watching the Bush-Gore debates on television with my parents. I’ve missed out on a lot of life because I’ve been too focused on my political ambitions. It feels good to do something like this.” I looked up into his eyes. “Even if someday we’ll look back and think it’s a mistake.”
He grunted. I felt it through my whole body since I was laying half on his chest. “I won’t think it’s a mistake. Like you said, my career at the Service is probably over no matter what happens. But you have a bright political future. I’d hate to be the person to fuck all that up.”
“You won’t be,” I said. I thought of Ethan, and Anthony before him. Several lovers all within a short span of time. The logical part of my brain knew they were all mistakes.
The rest of my brain didn’t care.
“Want to know the truth?” I asked.
“Always.”
I felt like I could be honest with Luca. Vulnerable. So the words came pouring out. “I’m terrified of the future. I’m terrified of the potential responsibility I may take on. Running for president is all I’ve ever wanted, and now that it’s here I’m terrified of failing. Did you know that I’ve never lost an election? Going all the way back to my first run at City Council. I’ve never lost. But now I’m entering a race that I have no chance of winning. No intention of winning.”
“Then why do it?” Luca asked. “I mean, aside from trying to grab a VP spot.”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Because it’s the next step forward. Because it’s a good plan to become president in eight years.” I laughed. “Because Megan talked me into it.”
“You can’t launch a presidential campaign just because someone else says it’s a good idea.”
I sat up and ran a caressing hand across his bare chest. He had a small tuft of sandy-colored chest hair between his pecs. “But the reasoning holds up! Eight years as veep would give me a leg up on the election I do intend to win. It’s the smart move, even if my heart isn’t in it completely.”
“You know what isn’t the smart move? Making love to your devastatingly handsome Secret Service Agent on the floor of his log cabin.” He put his hands behind his head as a pillow and grinned widely. On the agent’s normally serious face, it looked adorable.
I poked him it the belly. “I know. But that’s kind of my point. Maybe, deep down, I’m trying to sabotage my own campaign before it begins.”
“Ahh, the subconscious. Sabotaging careers since mankind walked upright.” Luca scrunched his face up. “There might be something to that. I’m not a psychologist by any stretch, but I bet a psychologist would agree with your diagnosis. But you know what?”
“What?”
He rose to a sitting position and cupped my cheek. “I’m glad your subconscious made this mistake.”
“Me too.”
He kissed me softly, then jumped up. “My subconscious is telling me that I’m starving. So is my conscious, and every other part of my body.”
“Me too!”
We put our clothes back on and Luca retrieved the venison from the smoker. He cooked a can of green beans in a skillet with butter and served that up with the meat onto two large plates. Then he emptied the rest of the bottle of wine into two glasses.
“I thought you couldn’t drink on the job,” I teased.
He brought the glasses over to the table. “Yeah, well, I’m not supposed to have sex with the people I’m protecting, either. So it’s a night of firsts.”
I accepted the glass and raised it high. “To breaking rules.”
He clinked his glass to mine and drank. “Good lord. That’s awful. How did you drink an entire glass of this already?”
“With willpower alone.”
Both of us went silent while we ate. The venison had a wonderful smoky flavor, and was perfectly juicy on the inside. It reminded me of my dad serving freshly hunted meat at our own dinner table. Delicious and nostalgic at the same time.
“So,” Luca said when his plate was almost empty. “We know there are a lot of people who could possibly want you dead.”
“Sleeping with you was supposed to be a distraction from my assassination attempts,” I said.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it.” He stabbed another piece of meat with his fork and pointed it at me. “And I just can’t understand how an assassin could be so bad at their job. The first attack outside your apartment. He was directly ahead of you? And you were running straig
ht toward him?”
“Right.”
“And the report said you were something like 30 feet away when he fired his gun?”
“30 or 40,” I agreed.
“And you didn’t react until the first gunshot?”
“Correct.”
Luca bit into the piece of meat and then stared at the fork. “A target coming straight at them, well illuminated by the street lamps. That should have been an easy shot for anyone, let alone a trained assassin. It would have been impossible to miss.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked. “The assassin missed on purpose?”
“I don’t know,” Luca said. I could tell he was deep in thought. “Maybe it’s not really an assassin. It could be some random nutjob. You’re a good-looking woman. Great-looking,” he quickly added after I glared at him. “Maybe they’re a stalker. Someone who wants to scare you, but doesn’t want to actually kill you.”
“I guess,” I said. “But that doesn’t make me feel any better. If it was some big conspiracy by another politician or that bank CEO or some other lobbying group, we can track that down and uncover it. It’s a lot tougher to find one psychopathic stalker.”
“Sometimes life works out that way,” he admitted. “At least you’re safe out here in the middle of nowhere with me.” He flashed me a smile.
It was comforting… but only for a moment. Ships are safe in harbor…
“Luca,” I said gently. “You know I can’t stay here forever.”
“I know.”
“I can’t even stay here for another day or two.”
“I know.”
“I have to go back to Washington.”
“I know,” he repeated. “But I have my orders to keep you here.”
“So is that it? I’m a prisoner?”
He chuckled. “The DHS Secretary, who has total oversight of the Service, has a surprising amount of power when it comes to national security.”
I sighed to myself. I wanted to blame him, but it wasn’t his fault. He was just following orders. And as much as I wanted to convince him to let me go, if anything happened to me because of that he would never forgive himself. That would truly ruin his career. It would destroy him as a person.
I couldn’t do that to him. I’d have to be patient.
“What would you do if I opened the door and tried to walk out right now?” I asked.
“I’d have to stop you.”
“I would just try again,” I said, allowing a little bit of mischief to trickle into my tone. “And again. And again after that.”
He smiled, then coughed and made his face into a mask of seriousness. The way a Secret Service Agent was supposed to look. “Well, then. I might have to restrain you, ma’am.”
I leaned forward. “I’m listening.”
He scrunched his face in mock thought. “Well, I would probably tie you to the bed. It’s up against that wall, away from most of the windows. The safest place.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “I didn’t think you had any handcuffs, though.”
“Who needs handcuffs?” he said. “I have plenty of other things to tie you down.”
30
Elizabeth
We stared at each other for a long moment.
I jumped up from the table and sprinted for the front door. Luca was on me faster than I expected, wrapping his arms around me from behind so tight I couldn’t move. I tried not to giggle. It would ruin the fun.
He threw me over his shoulder, giving me a top-down view of his chiseled ass. I gave one cheek a smack, then the other.
“Cut it out,” he said.
“Make me.”
He used his free hand to smack my own ass, hard. A shiver of pleasure ran through my body.
“I can smack your ass too. And I’m stronger.”
He tossed me on the bed. I bounced up and down and crossed my legs while waiting to see what he would do. The completely nude agent stood in front of me like a statue chiseled from marble, his upper half shaped like a wonderful V of muscle.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he warned.
Without dressing, he went outside. Across the room, Boomer lifted his head off the couch, made a happy noise, and laid back down. Luca returned a minute later with a long coil of metal in his hands. “No rope. This’ll have to do.”
He extended two feet of steel chain and held it taut in front of him with two fists. I felt a tingle of excitement as he grinned at me.
I pretended to resist as he held me down and tied my hands with the chains, looping them around my wrist, around one corner of the bed frame, then the other, then back down to tie my other wrist.
I tested the movement in my arms. I could lower one hand toward my head, but as soon as I did the chain pulled my other hand farther toward the bedpost. As a result I could barely do anything.
Luca loomed over me, examining his handiwork. “It’ll do,” he said, then disappeared into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said. “Where are you going?” I tried to lean forward but couldn’t see him around the curve of the refrigerator.
“You’ll see.”
I shivered on the bed. I was totally vulnerable. If he was a psychopath he could have done whatever he wanted with me. But since I knew I could trust him…
I heard the soft pop of a cork, and then my nude guardian returned with another dusty bottle of wine. He took a long pull from it and made a face. “That’s as nasty as the first bottle.”
He stretched his arms wide and arched his back, giving me a long look at his body. The more I saw of him, the more I wanted.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked in a soft voice.
“Haven’t decided yet.” He knelt on the bed next to my legs and tipped the bottle. “But this is what I’m going to do first.”
I yelped as a trickle of red wine hit my breasts and ran down my belly. “You’re staining the sheets!” I said.
“It’s worth it for the fun I’m going to have with you.”
He set the bottle down on the side table and then bent over my face for a kiss. I closed my eyes and prepared my lips, but it never came. When I opened them again, Luca was two inches away, grinning.
“You’re an eager beaver,” he said in a sensual whisper.
“I have a gorgeous Secret Service agent nude above me,” I purred. “Can you blame me?”
“What I can do is this.”
He lowered his lips to my neck and kissed the wine from my skin. Another shiver ran through my body as he sucked gently, tasting the wine. “It’s far more delicious this way,” he said.
“Oh?” I breathed.
He responded by sucking some more wine out of the gap in my collarbone, then along my breast. I squirmed on the bed as he made his way along my chest, kissing and tasting the wine like I was a human wine glass. The hairs on his arm tickled my porcelain skin.
He grabbed the bottle and let out another trickle, this time lower, but on the side opposite my bandage. It slid along my hip and down around my ass cheek, collecting on the sheets he no longer cared about. Now his lips drank what was in my belly button, then the parts along my pelvic bone, then a light kiss at the edge of my mound of pubic hair.
“How’s it taste?” I asked.
He grinned up at me. “The wine’s much tastier this way.”
“I’d like to return the favor.”
He waggled a finger at me. “This is my fun.”
Luca grabbed the wine and poured a final trickle down my belly. The cool liquid collected in my mound and trickled down my labia. I held my breath as he placed the bottle on the table and lowered himself to me.
His first kiss was soft, but the anticipation had my swollen sex aching for his touch. I moaned the moment his lips pressed against my thigh, close enough that his cheek brushed against my sex. For the next minute he did everything but kiss my private parts: he went all around it in a slow circle, his breath hot and his cheek scratchy from this morning’s shave. I arched my back and moaned and did e
verything I could to beg him to taste me, but he resisted with the willpower of a monk.
And then, without warning, he gave in.
His tongue licked from the bottom of my pussy up my lips to my clit. The noises and squirms I made were unflattering but I was too lost in his touch to be embarrassed.
“You taste much better than the wine.”
I didn’t have time to say anything witty in response because he was burying his tongue deep into my pussy, impossibly deep, there was no way a man could have a tongue this long, it was like a snake writhing against my inner walls! I yearned to grab hold of his close-cropped hair and hold him to my sex but the chains caught tight and restrained me.
Somehow, that made everything a thousand times hotter. My lack of control. It was like being in those hotel rooms with Ethan, but dialed up to 11.
Unable to do anything, I accepted Luca’s cunning cunnilingus like the good guest that I was. In and out his tongue went, fucking me like a rigid penis, then swirling and bucking inside of me like a mad scientist’s machine made for pleasure. And when my breath drew short and the explosion in my sex could not be withheld, I squeezed my thighs around his head and held him close while crying out my pleasure to the wooden ceiling beams.
“Mrph hrmph.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, loosening my thigh-grip on his head. He came up red-faced, but grinning.
“You seemed to enjoy that as much as I did.”
I scoffed. “There’s no way you enjoyed that more than I did.”
“I love pleasing a beautiful woman,” he said as he caressed my thighs.
“You should be the escort,” I said absently.
“What?”
I gave a start. “You should be an escort. For money. I know a lot of women who would pay top dollar for that kind of treatment.”
He rested his head against my belly. “Doing it for money would probably ruin the fun.”
“You’re probably right.” I stretched my back, hands still restrained above me. “As fun as that was, now I’m all sticky with wine residue.”