Mad often dissented just for kicks. Dax missed him, too. “We’ve got your back, one way or another. I spent too much time today with a man who didn’t understand the meaning of friendship.”
Peter Morgan was alive and talking. So was Chad, though it appeared he didn’t know as much as Beau Kirk had. He’d simply done what his superior demanded.
One thing was certain. They had a whole name—Boris Kuilikov. And a bit of direction about who he was and what might be his game.
Zack walked up and put a hand on his arm. “I do understand. You have no idea what it means to have you four around me. I know Mad would be here if he could. The five of you . . . well, you made my life bearable then. You do the same now. My brothers. So understand when I tell you, don’t let that woman go.”
Gabe joined them. “You’ve been in love with her forever. You made a mistake. Don’t make another one.”
“But we get invited to this wedding, damn it,” Roman insisted.
Connor stepped in. “She loves you, too. There’s no doubt in my mind. But you fucked up when you pulled that shit in Vegas. Have you apologized?”
Did Connor think he was a moron? “Of course. I said it was a mistake.”
“It was more than a mistake,” Connor said. “Look, I get this shit from my wife, but Lara is actually very good at figuring emotional stuff out. You’ve been circling this woman for what? Ten years?”
“Just about,” he allowed.
“And she’s been circling you. You took something from her. While she was sacrificing for you, you married someone who didn’t matter to you,” Connor pointed out. “Holland will always be a second wife. That’s meaningful for women. A lot of them believe that the first wife is the true love. You need to make her believe she’s not second.”
“How do I do that?” She’d never been second for him.
Connor sighed. “No idea, man. But I do know you can’t do it if you’re on separate continents. Fix this or go back to New Orleans and you don’t leave until she agrees that you’re an idiot and she was always the one for you.”
“Women like to think they’re the one.” Gabe tipped his glass up and took a swallow of Scotch. “In my case, it was true.”
“Me, too,” Connor agreed.
“First wives aren’t always the only woman you ever love,” Zack murmured.
“Yeah, well sometimes a man wants to believe he’s the only one, too.” Roman held out his glass.
Did Holland think that marriage didn’t matter to him because he’d done it stupidly once? Had he made her believe it didn’t have to be forever because he’d once treated the institution with so little respect?
He’d apologized, but had he explained why he wanted to marry her? Or had he left it as an abstract concept—an idea that simply made sense because she was female and he enjoyed having sex with her? Because they were so familiar?
He could clear up all of those misconceptions very quickly.
“What bedroom did you put her in?” Dax asked.
Zack looked up from pouring Roman’s drink and smiled.
* * *
Holland opened the door to the bedroom she’d been assigned to with a long sigh. Her one piece of luggage would have been moved in and she assumed her closet would have the necessary items. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours cleaning up the mess her uncle had left in New Orleans. She hadn’t had time to do more than throw an overnight bag together. On the flight over, she’d called and explained what she needed. The White House was thorough. Gus made sure of it. As far as she could tell, everyone was terrified of Gus, with the exception of her friends.
Liz Matthews had put on a good face, but it had been obvious she was on the brink of tears all evening. Gus had explained that Liz and the president had been very close until recently. So close there’d been speculation about an affair. Liz had basically been the stand-in for Zack’s first lady. But earlier this evening, the commander in chief had shown up with a bimbo on his arm. It didn’t seem to matter to Gus that said bimbo had a law degree from Harvard. She was slutastic and every woman in the room agreed.
God, Holland had missed colorful Gus and her straightforward honesty.
She was going to miss Dax forever.
Back in the bedroom she’d been assigned, Holland closed the door behind her and turned the lock. Habit. Almost nowhere in the U.S. was more secure, but she probably wouldn’t sleep if she couldn’t lock the door. Hell, her own uncle had turned out to be a damn mob plant. Who the hell could she trust?
She didn’t bother turning on the light. She didn’t need to see how empty her room was. She didn’t need to wonder where Dax was. He was likely still drinking with his friends since they had the freaking White House as their man cave. Most likely, it wouldn’t be long before Dax found another willing woman, like pretty, sweet, and laughs-at-everyone’s-jokes Courtney. He would find a woman who would cower prettily behind him when the bad guys showed up and let him be the man. Despite what he’d said, he would move on.
And Holland would think about him every day for the rest of her life.
Was she making a horrible mistake by insisting they go their separate ways now? Maybe the wine was talking for her. Or the tequila shots, since Gus had brought out the big guns. Either way, the liquor was making her sentimental, but she wondered if she shouldn’t sneak into Dax’s room for one last night.
If you’re leaving, then go. You’ve already decided to be a coward and let some other chick have him, so stop being such a wishy-washy bitch. Let the man of your dreams have his silly little never-shot-a-criminal-before woman.
Or you could claim his ass and defend him against all invaders cute and cuddly and with fake breasts.
Holland groaned. She might be an idiot, but she had to talk to him. She hoped they could find a way to work this out.
She stroked on some lip gloss because she was fairly certain she looked horrible. She groped the wall, looking for a light switch and hoping to find a mirror to prove herself wrong. Her fingers latched on to their prize and she flipped it up.
And she nearly screamed.
“Don’t shoot me,” Dax said from the bed in front of her.
She stopped and caught her breath because under the sheet covering his lower half, she didn’t think he was wearing a stitch of clothing. He’d covered the bed in rose petals.
“What are you doing here?” she breathed.
His sexy smile caught her off guard. “Waiting on you.”
And he looked so good. Yummy and male and ridiculously hot. “Why are you here?”
He pushed the sheet aside and proved he wasn’t, in fact, wearing anything. He stood, his body looking like nothing less than sheer perfection. “Holland, I’m not letting you walk away.”
He could say whatever he liked, but he’d let her go once before. Less than twenty-four hours later, he’d married someone else. He’d never apologized for what he’d truly done to hurt her. Yes, he’d said he was sorry for getting drunk, but that didn’t heal the heart of her pain.
“So you want a few more weeks in bed? It won’t matter.”
He remained near the bed, giving her space. “Because I married Courtney?”
“It’s not just that.”
“You’re right. I was making it too simple. I took something from us that should have been sacred and tossed it in the trash. I love you, Holland. You should have been my only wife. ’Til death do us part and long after because I’ll love you until I die. Hell, I’ll love you as long as this soul exists. That’s why we should get married. And why it will mean everything. I never wanted to marry Courtney. I wanted to prove that I could . . . forget you, I suppose. But I couldn’t. No other woman in the world is like you. So you can walk away, but I’ll be right behind you, praying that you change your mind, because I can’t be whole without you.”
Tears welled in her eyes hard and fast. She knew she should stop this conversation or she’d soon be sobbing, but s
he couldn’t. They had to talk this out. “Even years later, I couldn’t marry anyone else.”
He crossed the room to her and cupped her shoulders. “I know, sweetheart. You were faithful in a way I wasn’t, and all I can do is beg your forgiveness and promise that our marriage will be forever. I’ll put my heart and soul into us. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m leaving the Navy. I’ll live wherever you want. I’ll be patient if you can’t forgive me yet, but don’t shut me out.”
Her tears flowed freely. She hadn’t really mourned three years ago, she realized. She’d shoved her pain down and tried to act as if his marriage didn’t matter. Even after pictures of Dax and Courtney had appeared in magazines, she’d shrugged and shoved her hurt deep down.
“You gave her my ring.” She’d hated that.
He stopped and shook his head. “No. I did not. Holland, sweetheart, why would you think that?”
“You had it in your pocket when you left that day.”
He dragged her into his arms, his warm skin surrounding her. “And it stayed there. Even when I was drunk off my ass, I was smart enough to stop at a jeweler and buy her ring because the family ring was meant for you, not anyone else. Look at the nightstand.”
She glanced over his shoulder and there sat a red velvet box. Her ring. “You brought it.”
“Yes,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ll carry it around until you say yes and let me slide it on your finger, which is where it has always belonged.”
She breathed him in and made her choice. She couldn’t make any other choice. He was the love of her life.
“Make love to me, Dax.”
“I will never refuse that command. Holland, are you on the pill? Because if you aren’t, I’m going to have to sneak out and scrounge up some condoms from god knows where.”
She had to laugh at the idea of Dax running to the Secret Service to ask for condoms. It would be a very Perfect Gentlemen thing to do. Her body heated at the thought of not wearing any protection beyond her four-times-a-year shot. “We’re covered. I also had a checkup and I’m perfectly clean.”
She let her hands roam over his skin. There was something sexy about him being naked while she was clothed. He was here for her pleasure. Her comfort and protection, too, but tonight was definitely going to be about pleasure.
“I haven’t had sex with anyone else in a year,” he admitted. “I’m clean. Can I take you, sweetheart? Nothing between us. I’ll be faithful to you. For the rest of my life. I don’t want another woman. Only you.”
“A year?” It was inconceivable. Dax had a crazy sex drive. He would be on her at least twice a day. He was always trying to get inside her.
“Yes. After we split up, I only slept with one woman and only a handful of times.”
“Courtney.” It was easier to say her name now. They would never be friends again, but some of the toxic feelings had faded. That was a relief, because there had been pain on all sides.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t cheat on her?”
“No. I was cheating on you. That’s the hard truth. I know that’s my true sin.”
She forgave him, finally and fully. “Don’t do it again.”
His eyes were solemn as he lowered his head. “Never. I’m yours. Everything I am and everything I have is all for you.”
She bridged the slight distance between them, rising up on her toes to press her mouth to his. Passion flared, hot and quick. But it had always been that way between them. All she had to do was think about him and her body softened for him.
She kissed him, covering his mouth and tangling her tongue with his. He granted entry, pulling her against the hard length of his body. He was so warm, her man. It was right this time and she intended to stay with him for the rest of her life.
Their tongues played, gliding along each other in a silky slide. Her hands explored the strong muscles of his back. She let them slide down to his backside and cupped him, rubbing her body against his. His cock reacted, twitching between them.
“You’re going to kill me tonight, aren’t you?” Dax smiled as he kissed her nose and cheeks.
“I’m going to take what’s mine.” He was her man and she would have him any way she wanted him.
They would always have this push and pull. Giving and taking. When he needed control, she would yield to him, but on nights like this, she would take him and show him what it meant to be her man.
He shuddered. “I’m yours. You should definitely claim me. Otherwise, I’m going to be very lonely. I’ll sit outside your door just wearing nothing. It could cause a scandal.”
She couldn’t have that. “Get on the bed, Captain.”
He stepped back, giving her a spectacular view of his sculpted chest, not to mention that monster cock that stood at attention. “Your wish, my command.”
His stare never wavered as he spread his big body across the mattress. All that delicious, gorgeous man was laid out for her delectation.
This was the rest of her life. All she had to do was say yes and they could love and live and play together. They could have a family. They could have a whole life of adventure.
She watched him as she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the side. “I love you, Dax. It’s always been you. I was afraid. I still am, but I’m not going to walk away this time.”
“You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.” He held out a hand as she slipped out of her shoes and slid her slacks to the floor. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you’re safe and happy. It’s all I want.”
“All?” She had to ask because one specific part of him looked as if he wanted more.
“Semantics,” he replied. “Love and happiness is what I want to share with you. And that gorgeous body on top of mine? Yes, I want that from you, too. God, you’re beautiful.”
Somehow he made her feel that way. She glanced at him, at everything he had to offer her. She shook her head. He was the beautiful one. She ran her hand over his chest, soft silky skin covering his rock-hard muscles. Down to his rigid abs and past that part of him that seemed so determined. She would get to that, but first, she intended to explore.
He groaned as her hand moved down his thigh. “You’re going to kill me.”
Only with pleasure. It would be a good way to go. “I’m just exploring.”
“Take off that bra, Holland. Please.”
She liked to hear him beg. She supposed since he was being so patient, she could give him that. She climbed on the bed between his spread legs and got to her knees. She would never call herself a sensual woman. She didn’t tease her lovers, but it was different with Dax. His stare fused to her chest, waiting for the moment she revealed herself to him. She found herself moving slowly, deliberately drawing the moment out. She twisted the front clasp of her bra, but held it for a moment, locking gazes with him. She eased the cups almost to her nipples, enjoying how still he’d become, how intent.
She eased the bra off. Then his hands covered her, palming her. Cool air was replaced with the warmth of his callused hands moving on her.
“I’ll never want to stop touching you,” he said, his thumbs moving over her nipples.
Her skin flared to life, nipples becoming hard pebbles under his hands. Her blood started to thrum through her in a pleasant pulse. After all the stress of the day, this was what she’d needed—to be alone with him, intimate with him. She needed to lock the world out and be the Holland she was only with him.
“Let me touch you, Dax. Let me taste you.” She eased back, her skin crying at the loss of his touch, but she wanted a deeper connection. She moved between his legs, lowering herself down so she had access to his cock.
It pulsed under her lips as she gently covered it in kisses and little licks. She loved running her tongue over the spot where the head sloped down to his thick stalk. She definitely loved lapping up the head.
His body shuddered under her, but he let her have her wa
y. He raised his hand and tangled it in her hair. “Please put your mouth on me.”
She had to admit, she liked torturing him. She pressed a peck on his flesh. “It is on you.”
He laughed, though she heard a frustrated hiss behind it. “Suck me. Please suck my cock, Holland. I’ll die if you don’t.”
She couldn’t have that. She gently eased the head of his cock into her mouth, sucking lightly and enjoying the way he tasted, salty and sweet and masculine as hell.