LITMIR.BIZ

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      “I will always worry about you, and I could be more okay,” he said, raising his hips suggestively.

      “Subtle, Mr. VP. Very subtle.”

      “A wise woman once told me I suck at subtlety.”

      “Sometimes you’re very good at it.” She began with kisses to his lips and face, laying a path along his jaw and then hovering over his ear. Because they had all night and could sleep in, she took her own sweet time, working her way down his neck and along his collarbone. Nuzzling the soft hair on his chest, Sam breathed in the clean fresh scent of home before nudging his nipple with the tip of her tongue.

      He sucked in a sharp deep breath and again fisted handfuls of her long hair.

      She continued to go slow, dragging her tongue over each hill and valley of his well-defined abdomen, following the soft trail of hair that led to his cock, which was so hard it nearly reached his belly button. “Someone looks happy to see me.”

      “He’s always happy to see you. In fact, you’re his favorite person ever.”

      Sam snorted with laughter. Sex with him was always fun—and often funny. He made her so damned happy. The least she could do for him was to try to give him something else to think about other than the dark cloud that hung over them, threatening to burst open at any moment.

      Speaking of bursting... She wrapped her hand around the thick base of his cock and stroked him the way he liked it, a little rough and fast.

      He groaned deeply and raised his hips to encourage her.

      She drew the wide head into her mouth and applied subtle suction as she took him in while continuing to stroke him. The combination always drove him crazy, and this time was no exception.

      His fingers tangled in her hair as his hips rose and fell in a rhythmic motion.

      Sam took him as deep as she could before drawing back and treating him to some tongue action.

      “Fuck,” he whispered on a long hiss of air. “Babe...”

      Using her free hand, she gave his balls a gentle squeeze as she sucked him in again. That finished him off, as she’d known it would. She stayed with him until he sagged into the mattress, demolished—just the way she wanted him.

      “Jesus,” he said when he could speak again. “Are you trying to kill me?”

      “Hardly.” Sam stretched out next to him and pulled a lightweight blanket over them. “I need you too much to kill you. And besides, that’d be too much paperwork when I’m on vacation.” Sam hated paperwork.

      “Whatever I did to deserve that, remind me to do it again tomorrow.”

      She laughed. “I just wanted you to think about something other than the thing we can’t stop thinking about.”

      “Mission accomplished. You completely fried my hard drive, and now all I can think about is sex. More sex. Lots and lots of sex.”

      “Oh crap. What’ve I done? How can you want more sex than you already have?”

      “Apparently, my desire for you is limitless.”

      “That’s more than fine with me.” Sam yawned and snuggled in closer to him.

      “I know you really don’t want me to say this, but I’m still sorry I brought all this additional insanity into our lives when we certainly had enough to begin with.”

      “I really don’t want you to say that. You have no reason to apologize to me or Scotty or anyone. You were asked to serve your country. No one can fault you for what’s happened since then.”

      “Still... I hate that it’s been so stressful for you and Scotty, even if neither of you says much about it.”

      Sam raised herself up on one elbow. “It’s only stressful for us because we can see what it’s doing to you.” She caressed his face, noting the dark circles and lines of exhaustion that were new in the last few months. His insomnia was always merciless but never more so than since he’d become vice president.

      “What do you say we agree to take this situation one minute at a time and not get too far ahead of ourselves with what might happen?” she asked.

      “I think that’s the only way we can do it.”

      “So, no more speculation or talk of vice presidents or conversations with the DNC or anything other than contending with whatever is happening in that very minute?”

      “I’ll put out the word that I don’t want to talk about it until or unless I absolutely have to.”

      “Excellent.” She dropped her head to his chest and put her arm across his midsection.

      “You should know, however, that it’s going to take a lot of distractions to keep my mind from wandering.”

      Even though he couldn’t see her face, she rolled her eyes. “Your subtlety still sucks.”

      “You just said I was getting better at it.” He moved quickly, taking her by surprise when he came down on top of her, perfectly positioned for further distraction.

      “Nice move,” Sam said, gazing up at the gorgeous hazel eyes that always looked at her with love and affection and desire and a million other emotions that couldn’t be easily summarized in mere words.

      “You liked that?”

      She nodded, loving that he seemed so pleased with himself. “I like all your moves.”

      “How about this one?” With one determined tug, he ripped the silk panties from her body and entered her in a single thrust that buried him to the hilt.

      “That was a good one too,” she said when she had caught her breath.

      He nuzzled her neck as he began to move. “Hold on to me, babe, and don’t let go. No matter what.”

      She wrapped her arms and legs around him, wanting him as close as she could get him. “I’ll never let go.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      THEY RETURNED TO the city on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend with a morose thirteen-year-old in full mourning for the end of summer vacation. “It’s so unfair,” Scotty said, “that vacation goes by so fast and the school year crawls.”

      “I used to feel the same way,” Sam said. “The end of vacation was like torture.”

      “It is torture!” Scotty agreed. “No more sleeping late or watching TV until midnight or going to the beach or baseball camp or anything fun for months.”

      “I feel you, buddy,” Sam said.

      “Samantha,” Nick said in the stern tone he saved for special occasions, “this might be a good opportunity to remind our son of the value of education and how important it is that he give eighth grade his full effort so he can use this year to prepare for high school.”

      Sam and Scotty exchanged glances. “Nah,” they said together, cracking up and high-fiving.

      “You two think you’re so funny,” Nick said.

      “We are funny,” Scotty said, “and you’re no help whatsoever in this situation. Do you think I want to hear about high school when I have a whole year of eighth grade algebra to suffer through first?”

      “He does make a good point,” Sam said, earning a glare from her husband. “One minute at a time, remember?”

      “Yeah, yeah,” Nick said, recognizing defeat when it stared him in the face.

      The Secret Service motorcade arrived at the Ninth Street checkpoint, where they were stopped for much longer than usual.

      “What’s

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