"It looks like it will be another beautiful day tomorrow.” He commented on the red sky splashed across the horizon.
"Nothing will ever top today, though.” Casey rubbed her cheek against his bare chest as he lay with his shirt open. They'd been so hurried to make love that he hadn't even removed all of his clothes. “I don't think the invited dignitaries expected to be witnesses today. I still can't believe you did that!” She playfully slapped his side. He rubbed it as if she'd hurt him, earning him another swat.
"He asked and I couldn't wait any longer!” He fingered the platinum band on his finger. At one time, certainly not long ago and far away, he'd never wanted to wear a wedding band ever again. Now, there was nothing he wanted more than to spend his life with the woman at his side.
"I still can't believe you asked the President of the United States to marry us! And I let you talk me in to it!"
"Well, I think telling you that we should wait to have sex again until we were married did the trick!” His lips quirked up with his most wicked smile, the one that never failed to leave her weak in the knees.
"You're a cruel and vicious man, Chadwick Monroe! You'd better be glad I love you."
"Oh, I am glad that you love me, Mrs. Monroe. But just remember, you're stuck with me now! For better, for worse, and all that jazz. If all those cameras and news vans were any indication, we're the topic du jour in Washington, maybe the whole country. Think of all the sympathy I'd get if you leave me. Being a national hero and all."
"If I recall correctly, until death do us part works both ways.” His skin burned where she dropped a kiss to his chest.
Despite having just made love, his cock hardened, ready for another chance at his wife. He chuckled to himself as he recalled the announcement to the assembled guests. They were expecting a reception in honor of the US military's success, his honor, not a wedding ceremony. Instead, he'd turned the tables to his advantage once again.
He and Casey were married in a small private ceremony in the White House Rose Garden, surrounded by their families and most of the major news organizations. Following the President's words, the press conference turned into a lavish reception for the newlyweds, complete with catering by the White House kitchen staff. Now, they lay tangled up in a hammock at Camp David. The President had graciously extended the use of his retreat for an impromptu honeymoon.
"Exactly, Mrs. Monroe. So don't even try and get rid of me!"
"Never, Chad. Never."
He tugged her closer, until she was completely on top of him. Sinking his fingers into her hair, he pressed his lips to hers. He silently prayed that his world never stopped reeling from her kisses before he lost himself in the passion once again.
The sun slowly sank on the horizon, reds and pinks streaming across the sky as it gave up its last light for the day. The colors bathed the couple in their soft glow as they lay together in an intimate embrace. The wind whispered softly through the leafless trees but went unheard by those touched by its kiss. All was right with the world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Felicia Forella began writing in grade school with the help of a friend. She quickly gave up trying to be the next Carolyn Keene when she realized that she gave away the who-done-it by the third chapter. She became hooked on romance in high school when her mother bought her a (now autographed) copy of Ashes in the Wind by Kathleen Woodiwiss. (See what you started, Mom!) A long hiatus from writing began in college when she realized no one cared if she became the next Margaret Mitchell. She began writing seriously again in the late ‘90's and her New Year's resolution for the new Millennium was to become a published author. She is proud to say this is one New Year's resolution she actually accomplished.
Felicia is a former Air Force brat, which might explain her obsession with men in uniform, who lived all over the South and in Spain. She now lives in PA with her hero husband and her hero-in-training teenage son, although, given her choice, they would be living somewhere down south as close to the ocean as humanly possible. They have a middle-aged beagle/border collie mix affectionately known as the Supermodel beagle, who is the only female in the house who responds to her husband's every beck and call.
Felicia loves to hear from her readers. She can be reached at [email protected] or through her website at www.feliciaforella.com.
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Call of Duty [Class of '93 Trilogy Book 3] Page 24