Epilogue
“When do I get my surprise?” Nick asked when they were on the plane heading for ten days alone together in Bora Bora. They were curled up together on the sofa in his private cabin, away from the prying eyes of his detail and the flight crew.
“What surprise?” Sam asked, intentionally playing dumb while tingling with anticipation. She knew exactly what he was talking about and had endured the epic humiliation of bikini waxing to make it happen. She’d be having nightmares for years about the entire thing.
“Don’t pull that crap, Samantha. You and your sisters have had my imagination working overtime for a week now, and the fact that I haven’t been allowed to touch you for two whole days hasn’t helped.”
“I’ll give you your surprise as soon as we get there,” she said, intentionally squirming so her back side pressed against his erection.
Groaning, he said, “Fine, if you’re going to be that way about it.”
“Patience, my love.”
He took hold of her hand and ran his lips over her knuckles. “I’m out of patience because I’m so excited to have ten days alone with you.”
“You think Scotty will be okay while we’re gone?”
“He’ll be fine. He’ll get tons of attention from Shelby and your dad and Celia and Tracy and Angela. They told us not to worry. He told us not to worry. So we should relax and enjoy every minute.”
“I feel kind of guilty going somewhere without him.”
“I think that’s called parenthood, babe.” He leaned in close enough to nuzzle her neck. “Just think… ten days with no one telling us to quit kissing so much.”
“Mmm, that will be nice.”
“Let’s get some sleep so we can fully enjoy every minute in paradise.”
Sam took the hand he offered and let him help her up. They took turns in the tiny bathroom and then crawled into bed. “It’s kinda funny how different everything is this time than it was last year when we had to fly commercial like regular people do.”
“Some things are exactly the same as they were then,” he said with a meaningful smile.
“The most important things.”
She rested her hand flat against his bare chest, feeling his strong heartbeat beneath her palm. “I’m not afraid to fly when I’m with you.”
“Then I guess you shouldn’t have to fly without me ever again.”
“We both know that’s not always going to be possible.”
“I’ll go whenever I can,” he said, sounding sleepy.
Because he had such issues with sleep, Sam closed her eyes and tried to settle in, hoping he would get some much-needed rest.
The next thing she knew they were being awakened by an announcement from the cockpit, letting them know they’d be landing in forty-five minutes.
“I can’t believe I slept on an airplane—again,” she said.
“You might be getting over your fear of flying.”
Her meltdown on the flight to Knoxville was evidence to the contrary, but she didn’t feel like talking about that today. Not when paradise awaited.
With their usual efficiency, the Secret Service got them off the plane and into SUVs for the ride to the resort.
“Where will they be while we’re here?” she asked of the detail that included Melinda, much to her dismay.
“In villas on either side of us.”
“So they’ll be spying on us?”
“No, they won’t be spying,” he said, laughing. “They’ll be close by if we need them, but mostly out of sight.”
“What does this mean for my need to skinny dip?”
“It puts a damper on that, but everything else involving nudity is welcomed and allowed.”
They were given a VIP welcome at the resort and shown to the same villa they’d occupied last year. After Nick had a brief conversation with Brant, the agent left and Nick locked the door behind him.
“Alone at last,” he said.
“Whatever shall we do?”
“I can’t think of a thing I want to do.”
“God, one year of marriage and we’re already so bored. What does that mean for the other seventy years you’re going to be stuck with me?”
“It means,” he said as he put his hands on her hips to draw her into his embrace, “I’m the luckiest bastard in the universe.”
“We’re both lucky. So lucky.” With her hand curled around his neck she drew him into a kiss. “You want that surprise now?”
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything. Ever.”
“That’s a whole lot of want.”
“You have no idea.”
“If you undress me, you’ll find it.”
The dress she’d bought for the trip flew over her head. Her bra came off next and then he was on his knees before her, sliding panties down her legs and gasping at the sight before him. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Good surprise?”
“I won’t know for sure until I get a closer look.”
He lifted her right off her feet and carried her to the huge bed they’d all but lived in last year. Something told her this year was going to be more of the same, and that was fine with her.
“Samantha…” He licked and worshiped her, making her tremble from the sensations that were a thousand times more intense than usual.
Angela had forgotten to tell her to expect that.
“Just when I think you can’t possibly get any sexier than you already are, you blow my fucking mind.” He sucked hard on her clit, and she came instantly, crying out with the abandon that came from being completely alone with him and not having to worry about making too much noise.
His body came down on hers, hot and hard and heavy. Grasping her hips, he pushed into her, the tight squeeze triggering another release for her.
“So you like my surprise?”
“I fucking love it, and I love you, so much.”
She ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you, too. You, this, us… it’s everything.”
“Mmm, yes, it is.”
Sam had no idea how much time passed before they wore themselves out. The bright sunshine had given way to twilight that shimmered over the surface of the bluest water she’d ever seen. “As amazing as our loft is, there’s no substitute for the real thing.”
“I want to come here every year until we’re old and gray and too decrepit for anything more than a peck on the lips.”
Sam laughed at the picture he painted. “You will never be that decrepit.”
“Will you still love me if I am?”
“I’ll always love you.”
“You want your present?”
“Hell yes I want my present.”
As he got out of bed and walked out of the room, Sam enjoyed the view of his spectacular ass. He returned with a cardboard box. “Did you know the first anniversary is paper?”
“My sisters told me that.” She reached for the package she’d stashed next to the bed when they first arrived. “Which is why I got you this.”
“And here I thought you’d gone with wax over paper.”
She snorted with laughter. “I did both.”
“You first.”
Sam tore into the box and found a smaller box on top of a layer of tissue paper. Inside she found a gorgeous platinum bracelet on which he’d had the words “The first of many” engraved. “It’s so beautiful! I love it.” She put it on and held up her arm for him to see.
“There’s more, and in case you’re wondering, the tissue paper is my contribution to tradition.”
Under the layer of bright red paper were a treasure trove of intimate goodies, including massage oil, lubricant, a vibrator and a couple of odd-shaped objects she couldn’t immediately identify.
Her body flushed with heat and desire, but before she could indulge the desire, she had questions.
“How in the world does the vice president of the United States make a purchase like this and get away with it?”
“Carefully,” he said with a chuckle. “I had it shipped to Shelby’s.”
“So she knows about this?”
“She has no idea what was in the box, just that I needed to have it sent to her so you wouldn’t know. I made a joke about being married to a detective.”
“Wow, I’m impressed and intrigued. Now open yours.”
He tore the paper off the framed collage she’d made at Angela’s suggestion of her favorite pictures from their first year of marriage, including their wedding, honeymoon, Scotty’s adoption, the inauguration and group shots with the people they loved best.
“This is fantastic, Sam.”
“It’s not as exciting as a dildo, but—”
“It’s amazing. What a year this has been. I love it, thank you.” He put down the frame and moved the box to the floor so he could hold her. “What do you suppose our second year will be like?”
Resting her head on her favorite chest, she said, “Probably a lot like the first—chaotic and busy and crazy and absolutely incredible.”
“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for every minute of it.”
Smiling, she kissed him, lingering over the sweet taste of his lips. “As a very wise boy once said, bring it on.”
Fatal Identity: After the Epilogue
By: Marie Force
Sam
I can’t believe I let Angela talk me into this.
After listening to her “wax poetic”—haha—about the marital benefits of the Brazilian, I find myself stretched out on a table in my bedroom, naked from the waist down, covered by a scrap of towel, about to be brutalized by a woman named Joanna, who Angela assures me is “the best.”
Joanna is petite, with enviable biceps that were visible under the formfitting tank she was wearing under her parka when she arrived, putting me immediately at ease with her friendly disposition.
To her credit, she took only a quick look at our home, didn’t ask to meet the vice president and got right down to business by asking me where I wanted to set up.
I’d chosen the bedroom because it’s one of the few places in our home completely off limits to the Secret Service.
I chose this particular evening because Nick is out at a fundraising dinner with our son, Scotty, who wanted to go with him, and because it’s three days before Nick and I leave for Bora Bora to celebrate our first anniversary.
I wanted some time to recover from this sure to be hellish experience before I’m expected to perform.
Staring up at the ceiling, I laugh to myself over the word “perform,” because once my devoted husband gets a look at this, I have no doubt I’ll be performing—over and over and over again.