Epilogue

Epilogue

The second the door shut behind them, Cal let out a whoosh of air when June practically tackled him. She pushed him against the wall, then used her hands to desperately shove his T-shirt up his chest.

It had been a long, frustrating two months for both of them since she’d been shot, and they’d just gotten back from the doctor. He’d finally given June the go-ahead to return to all normal activities. Work, exercise—and sex.

Cal had planned a romantic evening, with a nice dinner, a massage, and maybe a bath, then slow, tender lovemaking. But it looked like his wife had other ideas.

He chuckled as she growled when he didn’t move fast enough for her liking, but the laugh was cut off when she got his shirt off, then went to her knees and fumbled with his belt.

“Easy, princess,” he murmured.

“I want you, Cal. And you’ve been so stubborn,” she complained. “I told you over and over that I was fine, that you wouldn’t hurt me, but you wouldn’t let me do anything.”

A groan left his mouth as she got his jeans undone and shoved them down his hips, along with his boxers, and practically swallowed him whole.

He fisted her hair and watched as she sucked his cock deep into her mouth. She made a satisfied noise in the back of her throat when he immediately began to harden. The humming sound only stimulated him more. Cal had jacked off in the shower more in the last month than he had in his entire life. Holding back from his wife had been torture, but he’d refused to do anything that might hinder her recovery.

June’s head bobbed up and down on his cock as she slurped and sucked him. Her gaze moved upward, and he couldn’t take his eyes from hers as she gave him the best blow job he’d ever had.

“I want all of you,” she said, taking her mouth off him long enough to speak. Her hand continued stroking him, keeping him primed as he leaned against the wall for support.

“Yes,” he breathed.

The satisfied smile on her face was worth every penny he had in the bank. She lowered her head again and went to work bringing him pleasure. Even though he’d masturbated just that morning, Cal found himself on the edge way too soon. He couldn’t hold back, not with the sight of her lips stretched over him and the way she caressed his bollocks as she took him deep into her mouth.

“I’m going to come!” he warned. This was the first time he’d ever let her finish him like this. But from here on out, anything his wife wanted, she’d get. Besides, coming now would hopefully make him last longer later, so he could worship her well into the night without worrying about coming prematurely.

In response, she sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing as she did so. Kneeling at his feet, fully dressed, so needy for him that she couldn’t even wait for them to get to their bed . . . it was all so carnal, so erotic, Cal couldn’t wait any longer.

A burst of come left his cock, and then he let go fully. He came so hard and so long that June couldn’t take all of him. She swallowed twice, then pulled her head back as he continued to shoot ropes of come from his dick. His essence splashed onto her neck and chin, and he watched, entranced, as she used her hand to squeeze out every last drop.

When she looked up at him with such pride and lust, it was all Cal could do not to push her onto her back right there in the foyer and take her. He reached out and wiped some of his come off her cheek, then held his hand to her mouth. She opened for him, sucking his finger in deep, running her tongue around the digit as if it was a mini cock.

That was it. Cal was done. He toed off his shoes, chucked his pants and underwear, then, naked as the day he was born and not for one second feeling self-conscious about his scars, he reached down and hauled June to her feet. He swung her into his arms and headed for the stairs.

June latched onto his neck, licking and sucking, marking him as she went. He dropped her feet when they arrived next to their bed. “Clothes. Off,” he ordered gruffly.

With a huge smile, June complied, and was soon just as naked as he was.

Cal pushed her onto the bed and immediately settled over her once she was on her back. He ran a finger over the long scar on her chest, where the surgeon had opened her up to save her life.

“You’re so beautiful.” He looked into her eyes. “It took me a long time, but I finally understand.”

“Understand what?” June asked, holding onto his arms tightly as he hovered over her.

“That scars aren’t ugly. They’re just a road map to our past. They tell others what we’ve survived. And we’re both survivors, you and I,” he told her. “We’ve been to hell and back, but nothing could keep us from finding each other.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you,” he returned.

“Will you shut up and make love to your wife already?” she pleaded.

Cal smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing,” she said with a sly grin.

“I thought you wanted me to shut up and get on with it,” he teased.

“I asked the doc something while you were getting the car.”

When she didn’t continue, Cal raised a brow in question.

“I wanted to make sure it was okay if I got pregnant. That our baby wouldn’t be in danger or anything. That I could deliver naturally without any problems from the surgery.”

Cal froze. “And?”

“He said yes. That I was completely healed, and he didn’t think there would be any complications whatsoever. And you know that I haven’t been taking my pill for a while now, so . . .” She grinned again as her words faded.

Cal couldn’t think. He was dumbstruck. Of course, he knew she hadn’t been taking precautions against pregnancy while she was healing, but for some reason, he hadn’t given thought to what that meant once she was cleared for normal activities.

“I want your baby, Cal,” she whispered. “Today. Right now.”

He’d intended to go down on her. To worship every inch of her body. To show her how much he loved her. How he couldn’t live without her. But now, all he could think about was getting inside her and filling her with his come, over and over again, until he knocked her up.

His cock hardened almost painfully, and he grunted like an animal as he moved into position, pushing her thighs apart and notching the head of his cock to her opening.

It wasn’t until he’d bottomed out, until he could feel her pubic hair meshing with his own, until he felt her contract around him that he realized what he’d done. He hadn’t even made sure she was ready for him.

“Feck!” he swore.

June giggled, and he felt it on his cock.

“Someone likes the idea of making a baby,” she teased.

He didn’t like it—he loved it. June would be even more beautiful pregnant than she was right now. And he couldn’t wait to meet their baby. To watch her breastfeed, to see her holding their son or daughter. He wanted to experience it all. The crying, the rocking, the diaper changing. It was almost ridiculous how ready he was to be a dad.

“I love you,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much.”

“Of course, I do,” she retorted. “I cheated death, twice, to get back to you.”

She wasn’t wrong.

She’d finally told him about the second near-death experience she’d had on the operating table, and the thought of them having two little girls was enough to bring him to his knees. Cal was positive her mom was trying to tell June that their daughters would cure cancer or be the first female president of the United States or achieve some other hugely important accomplishment. But even if they never left Newton and became servers at Granny’s Burgers, he knew they’d be the best waitresses anyone had ever known.

He began to move in and out of her slowly, showing her without words how much he revered her, how important she was to him, how much he loved her. Their gazes remained locked on each other as they moved, and Cal wasn’t the least bit surprised when they came together. He rolled until she was lying on top of him, his semihard cock still planted deep within her body.

“If you think you’re getting out of this bed anytime in the near future, you’re dreaming,” he informed her.

June lifted her head and smiled at him. “I can take whatever you dish out, Prince Charming.”

“My Cinderella,” he murmured, then rolled them again. He pulled out, reluctantly, and moved down her body. “I didn’t get a chance to do all the things I wanted to earlier.”

June spread her arms and legs with abandon and smiled up at the ceiling. “Do to me what you want, husband. I’m all yours.”

Yes, she certainly was.

Bob was bored. Again. He loved co-owning a business with his friends. He enjoyed the fresh air here in Newton and leading hikers on the AT. But deep down, he craved more excitement.

He’d loved being a Special Forces soldier. Lived for the adrenaline rushes that went with the missions. Thrived in busy places teeming with life. If he’d won that game of Rochambeau during their captivity, his choice of where they’d have moved when they got out of the Army was New York City.

He wasn’t upset that they’d ended up in Maine, but his restlessness had soon gotten the better of him . . . and after living there for just a year, he’d given in and contacted a man in the FBI whose name had been passed to him by a team of men who lived in Indianapolis.

Gregory Willis worked with former military members, sending them into situations around the globe to rescue people who needed the kind of help no one else could provide. Some were hostages, others were runaways, some found themselves in the sex trade. Still others were people who’d gotten in over their heads with foreign law agencies, with no way to get back to the States.

It was dangerous work but exciting. And fulfilling. It allowed Bob to not lose his mind from monotony.

Of course, his friends—his very best friends in all the world—had no idea. He knew they wouldn’t approve. It was JJ who’d been adamant that they not start a business that had anything to do with security.

And here he was, going behind their backs and doing just that.

How he’d managed to keep it a secret for two years was a mystery, but he’d gotten to a point now where it was almost impossible to come clean. They’d be hurt that he hadn’t told them sooner, that he was keeping such a huge secret from them, and upset that he was putting his life on the line without allowing them to watch his back.

When his phone rang, Bob jerked. He chuckled a little and shook his head. He shouldn’t be so jumpy, and yet with what he’d been doing on the side, he wasn’t surprised. He’d made some enemies over the last two years, people who would love to end him, to make sure he didn’t stick his nose in their business ever again. But Bob wasn’t worried. He could take care of himself, had proved it time and time again.

“Evans,” he said into his phone.

“Got another job for you,” Willis said without preamble.

Adrenaline immediately shot through Bob’s veins. Yes! He needed to do something. It was closing in on midsummer, and while Jack’s Lumber was busy—as was their guide service on the Appalachian Trail—it wasn’t enough. He was itching for more excitement.

“I’m in,” he told his contact.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

It didn’t really matter to Bob, but he said yes anyway.

“Thailand. A woman found herself incarcerated on a drug charge. Her brother claims it’s bogus. But since she’s not a celebrity or anyone notable, the press hasn’t paid much attention.”

Bob scowled. That part of the world wasn’t his favorite place to attempt to infiltrate. First, he didn’t exactly blend in with the locals. Second, the weather sucked. Hot and humid wasn’t his favorite atmosphere for a mission. And third, the justice system, like many of the police officers, was totally corrupt. “What’s the plan?”

“Depends on what you want. Do you want stealthy or expedient?”

“Expedient,” Bob said without hesitation. So far, lying to his friends by saying his elderly aunt needed assistance—an aunt he didn’t have—and that he was helping to take care of her since they didn’t have any other family had worked as an excuse for leaving town every now and then for a week or two. Anything longer and Bob knew they’d start getting more suspicious . . . if they weren’t already.

Bob listened, shaking his head as Willis gave him intel about his target and outlined the plan. There was so much wrong with what Willis had put together, it wasn’t even funny. But dealing with the Thai police and government didn’t leave them with a lot of options. “When am I leaving?” he asked.

“Day after tomorrow,” his contact said. “You’ll fly from Bangor to Chicago to Los Angeles to Beijing to Bangkok. We’ve got an inside source, and he’ll meet you at the airport.”

Bob took a deep breath. This mission was happening extremely fast. But he was glad. He hoped to get there, find this Marlowe woman, and get the hell out. The stress and excitement of such a crazy mission should be enough to tide him over for months.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll send the info packet tonight, and you’ll get a package in the mail tomorrow. I’m working on setting up the underground network to get you and Marlowe out, but it’ll be tricky. You’ll have to cross into Cambodia . . . creatively.”

Bob knew what that meant. They wouldn’t be waltzing across any of the official checkpoints. They’d probably have to cross at a remote, out-of-the-way location, which upped the chances they could get caught. “Understood.”

“Payment will be made once the mission is complete, as always. If you have any questions, you know how to get me. Good luck.”

Bob let out a snort when Gregory Willis hung up without giving him a chance to speak again. He clicked off the phone and stared into space for a moment, then got up off the couch. He had some preparations to make, an info packet to read, and lies he had to perfect so his friends didn’t worry about him.

Guilt made him frown, but Bob pushed the feeling aside.

The last thing he wanted to do was let down JJ, Chappy, and Cal, but his friends were otherwise occupied with their women. Even though JJ and April weren’t officially a couple, Bob had no doubt they soon would be. The chemistry between the two sent sparks flying every time they were together. It was simply a matter of time before they broke down and did something about it.

He was thrilled for his friends, but he wasn’t ready to settle down. And now he had someone else he could help with the skills he’d perfected over the years.

He’d rescue Marlowe Kennedy so she could get on with her life, and his restless soul would be appeased once more . . . at least for a while.

Determination settled around him as Bob headed to his room to pack.

Marlowe Kennedy huddled over the sewing machine she’d been assigned, sighing heavily. She’d been in this hellhole for almost a month, with the first two weeks in solitary confinement to make sure she didn’t have any viruses that could spread to the other inmates. The prison was overcrowded, and the air of misery and dejection was overwhelming.

She shared a “room” with two hundred other prisoners. She slept on a thin mat with women touching her on either side. The food was awful, and Marlowe knew she’d already lost too much weight.

When she’d been arrested, she’d begged and pleaded with the police. Told them she had no idea how the pills they’d found in her bag had gotten there. But it hadn’t done any good. She’d been forced to sign a document that she couldn’t even read, driven to this prison, and locked away without a second glance.

She’d been “interrogated” for hours—which simply meant she was screamed at in a language she didn’t speak—but hadn’t been given a chance to tell her side of the story. She was allowed no phone calls or legal counsel. She’d been in Thailand working on an archaeological dig, minding her own business, and the next thing she knew, her tent was being searched, and drugs—that were not hers—were found.

She’d cried for days, but now, no more tears would come. She’d been thrown away, forgotten.

She didn’t understand what anyone was saying, and the trustees—prisoners who’d been there long enough to be given responsibilities over their fellow inmates—didn’t like her simply because she was American.

Thinking about her brother was the only thing that kept Marlowe from completely breaking down. She’d begged the site boss to call him when she was being dragged away, knowing her brother would do what he could to help. He was five years older and had always been protective of her, even more so after their parents had been killed in a hit-and-run accident when she was fourteen.

Tony would figure out what happened, how to get her out. He had the connections to help her, thanks to working in politics for years. He wouldn’t stop until he got the charges against her overturned and she was released.

Yet, despite that conviction, with each day that passed, her faith and confidence took another small hit. Every single day felt like it lasted a week, and it was difficult to maintain her belief that she’d get out of here one day soon.

She was pretty sure she knew who had set her up, but it wasn’t as if she could do anything about it while stuck in this place. She desperately needed her brother.

“I need you, Tony,” she whispered out loud. “Please get me out.”

But, of course, her words disappeared into the noise of the large, overly hot room. No one magically appeared to apologize and tell her the arrest had been a huge misunderstanding.

Marlowe closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t famous . . . wasn’t a star athlete or a politician or an actress. She was a nobody. And it was that fact that made her fear she’d die in this dark, dank prison, with no one other than her brother to care.

If by some miracle she got out of here, she was going to make changes in her life. Was going to try to be more outgoing. Was going to get married. Maybe have kids—she wasn’t sure about that part yet. Be a better aunt to Tony’s kids, definitely. Stop taking such dangerous assignments.

And she’d be forever grateful to whoever managed to get her out of here. A lawyer, a negotiator, some badass mercenary—she didn’t care. Hell, she’d marry the person and devote her entire life to them . . . if only they could provide her a second chance.

Sighing again, Marlowe took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She was required to finish a certain number of blouses each day, and if she didn’t get them done, she’d be punished by the trustees.

In her scant free time, she made sure to exercise. She had to keep up her strength. Just in case she somehow managed to get out, she wanted to be ready for anything. To run, climb, swim, hike hundreds of miles to the border . . . whatever it took, she was going to be in the best shape she could, weight loss be damned.

“Please, Tony,” she said out loud again as she hunched over the material on her table. “Please help me.”