They made it to Ash’s top floor condo in Mission Bay in record time.
Maybe he took the posted speed limit as mere suggestion. Maybe he took her demand to take her to bed as gospel. Either way, it worked for her.
His hand copping a feel over the ruched satin covering her breasts while his talented tongue slid against hers was working for her, too.
They weren’t two steps inside the door before he’d shoved her up against it, pressing the hard length of his body into hers and taking her mouth in a kiss so carnal, it set her skin on fire. Lips soft, mouth deliciously rough, the stroke of his tongue sent sparks through her, making her wet and weak with desire. Her unfamiliar response was so forceful, she couldn’t hold back the whimpers of need as she tugged on the hem of his T-shirt, eager for all he could give her, dying to give him the same.
Good Lord, the man could kiss. She could almost come from his tongue kiss alone.
And if the seams on her mermaid style gown weren’t so sturdy, she’d ride his muscled thigh and make it happen herself, lickety-split.
“I got you, darlin’.” The sandpaper scrape of his stubble against her skin made her dizzy. “I wanna feel you on my fingers. Taste you on my tongue.”
His hands went to the zipper on her dress, the taffeta sliding down to puddle around her feet. Forgoing a bra, she wore nothing but the muted glow from a table lamp, a drenched black lace thong, and the pointy-toe Louboutin pumps she’d scored on sale.
His sharp intake of breath was loud. “Jesus, look at you,” he murmured, with something close to awe.
Her excitement rose at the feel of his rough hands gliding across her skin and the obsessed way he cupped her breasts, weighing their fullness. His thumbs rasped over her taut nipples, the throb in her center increasing with each pluck.
And still, he kissed her, over and over, his hot mouth absorbing her breathy moans.
Olivia nearly had him hogtied in her effort to get his shirt off, needing his bare skin against hers, when he put a few inches between them and yanked it over his head.
“No,” he ordered, when she kicked her dress away and reached for her shoes. The desire in his eyes softened the command. “Leave ‘em on.”
The firm lash of his tongue across her nipple stopped any response.
Digging her nails into his corded back, she arched into him when he took the sensitive peak into his mouth, flicking the hard bead before sucking strongly. The groans she couldn’t filter might be embarrassing come morning, but when his fingers jerked her thong aside and slid through her wetness, zeroing in on her clit while worshiping her breasts, she let all inhibition go.
“Ash,” she gasped, as he sent her over the edge. “Holy… oh, my God.” The orgasm ripped through her, flooding his hand as she rode the intense wave of pleasure, mewling and moaning.
It was a sensational start to their seventy-two-hour sex fest.
Before she could catch her stalled breath, the warmth of his big body was gone. A strikingly handsome man, Ash stood there like her own personal love slave, gaze glued to her core as he licked the moisture off his fingers. Wincing, his other hand went to his fly, tearing open the denim placket and releasing the most impressive erection she’d ever seen.
No joke, it was big.
While she contemplated taking all that inside her, he dropped down, burying his face in her wet heat. She was shocked by the speed in which he’d moved, her thong ripped away and his gifted tongue lapping her clean before she could cry uncle.
The second orgasm hit without warning, not as strong as the first, but just as gratifying, sending tiny little pulses echoing against her inner walls.
They stayed that way for several seconds, Olivia propped against the front door, trying to remember her name. Ash still on his knees, trailing kisses along the curve of her hip, then resting his cheek against her flat stomach.
“Damn, where are my manners? I forgot to say, welcome to my home.” His gruff voice vibrated against her belly. “Sorry I ripped your panties in my haste to eat you out. I had a whole, lazy seduction scene planned in my mind, and it didn’t include attacking you a foot inside the door. I’ll give you the grand tour once I can fit my boner back inside my pants. In hindsight, it was a bad idea to let it out so soon. Has a mind of its own.”
“Mmm, thanks for your awesome hospitality,” she replied breezily, running her fingers through his hair, not needing a tour. What she saw of his condo could best be described in two words. Sparse luxury. “And I have plans for that boner, so don’t put it away.”
They laughed in the midst of a sexual haze, and Ash stood to his full height, not an inch between them. His erection was hot and heavy against her stomach. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine, water, beer?”
She nuzzled his throat. “Do you have anything with electrolytes in it? Lord almighty, I just burned a thousand calories trying to stay upright in these heels.” Then his words clicked. “You have wine?”
“Don’t judge,” he grumbled. “You want some? It’s a label you’ll recognize.”
“Thanks, but no. I’ve had enough wine tonight.” She wanted to drink him down instead. Literally. Straight from the tap.
“I wouldn’t think a woman who works at a vineyard could ever have too much wine.”
“Did you know,” she drawled, kissing along his collarbone, “it’s a medical fact that if a woman drinks two glasses of wine, it increases the chance of a stroke? If you let her have the whole bottle, she’ll probably suck it, too.”
He laughed, a sexy rumble that had her dropping to her knees without a single sip of vino. Palming him, she inhaled his musky scent and licked the wide tip.
Groaning, he lifted her off her feet and dropped her down on a gray sofa. “Oh, no. Hell no. The first time I come, it’s gonna be inside your sweet, tight pussy.”
She gasped, unaccustomed to such graphic sex talk. She liked it. A lot. “How do you know my mouth isn’t sweet and tight?”
He growled, peeling off his jeans, revealing a nude body worthy of an art gallery. Caging her within his arms, he nibbled at her mouth, his dog tags nestled between her breasts.
“I know your mouth is dirty and sarcastic and fucking delicious.” He kissed her chastely, their lips clinging as his body settled over hers. “I know it’s warm and magical and makes my head spin.” Tracing the seam with his tongue, he teased her with the taste of her own essence. “I know I can’t wait to feel my cock slide inside it.” He kneed her legs apart, his erection seeking her opening. “But first, I have to fuck you. I have to, Livvy, or I’m gonna lose my mind from wanting you so bad.”
His hips surged, but she reached down, blocking his entrance. “Wait. You need to take care of something first.”
“Pretty sure you came already, darlin’. Twice, if my math’s correct. I’m not selfish, but I think I’ve earned a turn.”
Faking outrage, she tweaked his flat nipple, stopping short of a full-on titty twister. “That’s not what I mean, you horny bastard.” Twirling a finger toward his hard-on, her voice was firm. “Wrap it up.”
“Do we need it? You’re not on anything?”
“Um, you’re looking at a girl whose first form of birth control was prayer. So yeah, you might wanna be in charge of that.”
“Good thing I was a Boy Scout or we’d be relying on the man upstairs.” Hefting himself up, he headed for the bedroom. “And I don’t wanna hear about your old boyfriends.”
“If it makes you feel better, you’re already beating them, two orgasms to zero.” A drawer slammed shut, and he reappeared, tearing a foil packet from a long strip. “Sweet baby Jesus,” she added, awestruck, “you’ve got a few inches on them, too.”
The room was cast in dark shadow, but you didn’t need a spotlight to see what he was packing. He looked up with a cocky grin and froze.
“Don’t move.” His rough whisper sent a shiver down her spine as heated blue eyes swept over her. “I wanna stare at you for a minute. Maybe an hour.”
Suddenly self-conscience, she tried not to squirm as she took inventory of herself.
Sprawled on the sofa, naked except for her heavy, ornate necklace, black stilettos with red soles, and a delicious beard burn across her breasts, she looked camera ready for a nudie magazine. The low light didn’t hide a thin scar from an appendectomy when she was thirteen, but the glint off the tiny emerald nestled in her belly button drew his attention instead.
That and, when she spread her legs a little wider, what was directly south of the jewel.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.” Fighting the urge to cover herself, she groaned in awkward embarrassment. “No, you are. You deserve candlelight and flowers. Music and poetry. All I’ve got is a box of condoms and seventy-two hours.” He glanced at the black Rolex still on his thick wrist. “Make that sixty-four.”
“That’s not all you’ve got.” Licking her lips, she enjoyed her own fantasy centerfold come to life, nodding at the erection jutting toward her. “Screw cheesy romance and fake promises of forever, I’ll have some of that, please.”
Not smiling as she’d intended, he grew more serious instead. “You’re gonna marry me, Liv. Bet your bottom dollar.”
She rolled her eyes. “What did I just say about fake promises? Now get over here before I tackle you to the floor and sexually assault you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Eyes dancing, he grabbed her ankles and pulled hard, yanking her flat on the sofa. “Bossy women turn me on.”
She yelped in delight as his body covered hers, cradling him between her thighs.
With one hard surge of his hips, he sank fully into her and she cried out, the breadth of him more substantial than anticipated. So was the sheer pleasure of holding him inside her.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she dug her heels into the small of his back, lifting herself to him. Needing him to move, to thrust, preferably hard and fast.
There were times in a woman’s life when she just needed to be pounded. This was one of those times.
“Ash.” She squeezed her inner muscles, lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Move.”
“Can’t.” He groaned when she clamped down again, his face buried in her neck. “I’m reciting the alphabet song. Give me a minute to get through ‘Old MacDonald Had a Farm’ or the best sex of my life will be over in three pumps.”
Running a finger down the line of his spine, Olivia gave him five seconds.
“Okay, listen up, soldier. Either switch positions with me so I can fuck you while you sing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ or move those hips. Now.”
With an agonized laugh, he pushed himself up, showing off an impressive set of guns before sliding out of her body. Sliding out completely bare.
“Sorry,” he said, ripping open a foil packet and rolling it on while she stared, mouth agape. Only he didn’t seem all that sorry.
There’d been a pearly bead of essence on the tip of his erection when they’d sized each other up. And now, as he slid the protection on, there was nothing but the slick shine of her wetness coating him.
“Shit.” It was the only thing she could think to say.
He grinned, hooking an arm under her knee and spreading her wide, the head of his cock nudging her opening. “Start praying, darlin’.”
Ramming into her in one delicious thrust, he filled her to the hilt. Closing her eyes, she moaned at the sharp rush of pleasure as he slid out and shoved back in again. And again and again, hard then harder, not caring that he was just short of rough about it.
“Oh, God,” she cried out in ecstasy, oblivious to her choice of words as she chanted them, a heavenly plea that he keep going or she’d simply die.
The danger Asher Coleson presented, to both her life and livelihood, faded away. Her world was reduced to Ash, the magnificent man she was currently wrapped around. The ragged sound of their satisfied moans mingled, the throb in her core gaining momentum with every thrust, every kiss, every lash of his tongue. His chiseled body enveloped her, hard muscle against soft curves, molding them like two pieces of the same imperfect puzzle.
“More,” she ordered, gasping as she felt a third, unprecedented and impossibly awesome orgasm build. “Just like that… exactly like that…. don’t even blink differently… just do more of that.”
Her whimpers of passion and greed blended with his whispers of hunger and reverence, fueling her desire.
“Anything you want, darlin’. I’m at your service.” He nipped her bottom lip, showing no signs of stopping. “I could keep this up all night… all weekend… all my life.”
And when he shifted his angle ever so slightly, reaching deeper, rubbing against her clit with every wet slide, it was even better. The best.
Olivia had died and gone to multiple-orgasm heaven.
“Jesus, Ash.” Her eyes shot open at the wondrous sensation, locking onto his. “You’re really good at this.”
“No, we’re good at this,” he corrected, groaning when her nails dug into his ass. “Together. Better than there’s ever been.”
He was right. The keening pleasure was unlike any she’d ever experienced. It thrilled her. Liberated her. Scared the hell out of her.
“I’m close, darlin’.” His breathing hitched, coming in rapid pants. “Come for me, Liv. Show me you love this as much as I do. Let me feel you go off around me.”
And when he reached down, still thrusting at that deliciously deep angle, and circled her with skilled fingers, Olivia had her first ever orgasm with a man buried inside her. Ever.
Pulsing around him, her body squeezed and gripped and held tight, sensing this man was her mate for life.
The word amazing seemed wholly inadequate.
Ash dropped his forehead to hers, riding out his own orgasm with shuttering spasms and a long, rumbling groan, and she experienced another first.
A crazy insane first. An utterly impossible first, if you’d asked her a day ago.
It may have only been a quick slip and a tiny drop, but for the first time ever, Olivia prayed for the one thing she wanted most in life. Pregnancy.
“That was something.” Winded and sweaty from her wild morning ride, Liv collapsed across his broad chest, wondering when she’d become a sex maniac.
It was sometime during the last sixty-four hours.
“That was everything,” Ash replied, slipping out of her body and rolling so they lay face to face. He brushed damp strands of hair from her face. “This whole weekend has been everything.”
An epic understatement. They’d not left the condo at all, spending every minute wrapped up in each other, pushing the limits on her inhibition and his stamina.
Mixed in with their weekend of marathon sex were several bottles of wine and Coors Light, takeout from any restaurant offering delivery, and conversation spanning silly to serious. He’d thrown in some pretty spectacular assumptions about their future, too.
Only breathing fresh air when they snuggled on a padded chaise on the balcony, they’d stare at the starry night sky, Ash pointing out constellations until she became preoccupied with how much of him she could fit into her mouth before he lost control and came, and they’d return to the privacy of enclosed walls.
The Rolex on the nightstand, along with the cell phone next to it, were the only items other than Olivia that held his regular attention. She’d see him check the time every now and then, a harsh reminder they were on the clock. Occasionally the cell phone would glow, silently advising of a call or notification. He’d casually reach for it, but only when he didn’t think she was paying much attention, scrolling through the screens and tapping a message before shutting the phone off, the glow fading to black.
It lit up now, just as he placed a soft, sweet kiss on her lips.
“Should I be worried you have a wife or a girlfriend trying to reach you? You seem to be in high demand.”
He laughed off her question, not bothering to check the caller or the message. “I need to clean up or this is gonna get messy.” Pointing down, he carefully sat up and disappeared into the bathroom.
There’d also been no more unprotected sex this weekend, either.
Hating herself, Olivia reached for the phone, shocked to see it wasn’t password protected. A quick look at the log showed only outgoing calls to restaurants, with a few incoming from contacts saved as Sammy and Mike. The text scroll showed the most activity, with an ongoing, hours-long conversation between him and someone named Tin Man. She read a partial section of text.
Tin Man: Shit’s going down. Need your expertise. Where are you? Bat phone goes unanswered.
AC: Stateside.
Tin Man: WTF? Aren’t you team leader on desert terrain extractions gone FUBAR? I’m knee-deep right now. Random fire. Bodies left and right. You want in on the fun? Fair warning, I’m way the fuck outside the wire.
AC: When are you not outside the wire?
Tin Man: That’d be never. You got a team deployed yet? ETA? It’s hairy as all hell here. Good thing you’re not scared of blood and guts.
AC: Damn, you’re chatty for a sitting duck.
Tin Man: *Update. The intestines are animal, not human, but the bad guys with the sniper rifles on the rooftop next to me don’t know that. I’ll let them think it’s my dinner. Freak them out. I am kinda hungry.
AC: No chance I’ll be rescuing your Cinderella ass from the Terrorist Ball. Play your cards right, you might be crowned homecoming queen by a bunch of goat fuckers. Perks of being a pretty boy.
Tin Man: Too far, man, too far. Really, where are you?
AC: RR for nineteen more hours.
Tin Man: Let me guess. Balls deep right now? Screw you.
AC: Duck when you see a chaser, Jason. Keep that ugly mug attached.
Tin Man: Will do, Coleson. Enjoy your lady friend. ISIS says hello.
“Find anything interesting?”
Olivia screeched, dropping the phone at the sound of Ash’s voice right behind her.
“Jesus!” Letting out a laugh, she covered her pounding heart. Tried covering her tracks, too. “Jesus, how does a man your size move so freaking quietly?” Scooping up the phone and setting it where she found it, she scrambled into one of his huge T-shirts. It was her only source of clothing other than a wrinkled party dress. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
He scowled when the cotton slid down her body, the hem hitting her knees. “It looked like you were checking up on me. Got any other plausible options?”
“No,” she whispered, biting her lip. “What can I say? You busted me. Do you want me to leave?” She pointed to the phone like it was a snake. “I’ll need to borrow that to call a ride. My cell’s been dead since last night.”
Her car was still at the vineyard, no doubt drawing all sorts of speculation.
He laughed. “Not a chance in hell.”
Padding into the kitchen, naked as the day he was born, he leaned into the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. Twisting the cap off one, he handed it to her.
“First of all, I don’t want you to leave, Liv. I never want you to leave. Second, I have no wife, girlfriend, fuck buddy, baby mama, or side piece. I have you. And I will never cheat on you. You copy?”
Nodding, she swallowed, her mouth dry as dust.
“Third, I have two cell phones, one for work and one for play. That one,” he said, pointing toward the open bedroom door and the nightstand beyond, “is for play.” Grabbing a phone she’d not noticed before, he held it up. “Work. And you couldn’t access this if you hired the best hacker in the free world. When it rings, beeps, lights up, or makes any hint of a fucking sound, I leave. Immediately. I do not pass go, I do not collect two hundred dollars, and I do not say a long goodbye. I leave, Liv. It’s my job.”
“Okay.” Her voice was small.
“You can look at my play phone anytime you want. I have nothing to hide. You cannot look at my work phone. You’re just gonna have to refer to my second point and trust me. Have a little faith in me.” His narrowed gaze told her this was the crux of his conversation. “Can you do that? Can you trust me? Because if the answer is not a definite, unequivocal yes, then we don’t need to go beyond this point.”
She looked at his work phone, imagining a world of women in the contacts. “You won’t cheat on me? Ever? I mean, I know you’re gonna say no, even if the answer is yes, and I’ll never really know for sure if you are or you aren’t, but—”
“Livvy,” he interrupted, tilting her chin up with his index finger. “You can trust me. I will never cheat on you. I promise.”
She believed him. Call her crazy, unrealistic, or naive, but in that moment, Olivia believed him. And in that moment, she gave her trust—and her heart—to a man she’d only known for two short, sex-filled days.
“Mmm, what time is it?” Rolling toward the man next to her, she slowly came awake. The drapes were closed, cocooning the bedroom in darkness. “I slept for too long.”
It was Sunday afternoon. Time was winding down.
“Fifteen forty-five,” he replied lazily, running his fingertips along the arch of her back.
“Fifteen forty-five?” Confusion filled her voice. “Twelve, thirteen, fourteen,” she mouthed, ticking the numbers off in her head, picturing the face of a clock. “This is why I could never be in the military. I’d have no idea what time it was. I’d literally show up late for a war.”
“It’s quarter to four, and this body is way too gorgeous for fatigues.” He touched the emerald stud piercing her navel. “This was a sexy surprise. I didn’t peg you as a girl who’d go for body modification.”
“I don’t.” Olivia mirrored his movements, sliding her hand over his hard body. “Macy and I got a little tipsy at the food court in the mall last Christmas. Let’s just say, fresh pretzels with cheese dip, Heineken on tap, and a piercing station at the top of an escalator make for a bad combination. We hit the trifecta of poor decision making. Macy pierced her nose.”
He made a face.
“Yeah, I know, but trust me, the nose was the lesser of two evils. She would’ve done her labia, had the Piercing Pagoda been willing to break company policy and strict health code laws. She was dating a tattooed biker at the time. The biker got the boot by April and the nose ring went with him, thank God. It was disgusting.”
“Never get a labia piercing, Liv.” He cupped her heat. “And nobody touches this but me.”
She scoffed at his possessiveness, gripping his rising erection with a firm hand. “Then nobody touches this but me.”
The sheet slid away as she straddled him, done wasting daylight.
Kissing his defined pec muscle, she nibbled her way south. “No tattoos?”
His body might be nicked with random scrapes and scars, signs of the physical rigors of his chosen career, but his skin was surprisingly clean of ink.
“No. The Unit frowns upon them.”
“Why?” Nuzzling along the ridges of his ripped abdomen, she paused to look up. “They own the skin you’re in?”
“Essentially, yeah, they do.” Lacing his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes, the picture of warrior perfection chilling while his body was worshiped. “No identifying marks. Don’t wanna make it easy for the bad guys to, well, identify me. Blending in with the scenery is the goal if I don’t want a real thorough manicure.”
“Jesus.” She blinked as the implications of that statement sunk in. “Holy shit. What—” She swallowed, remembering his work phone. “What is it that you do exactly?”
With a carefree lift of his shoulder, he continued to doze. “Earn a paycheck.”
“Yeah, doing what, though? Like, where do you go, and what do you do there?”
Barely lifting his head, he cracked an eye open and stared at her, his expression shuttered. Almost intolerant.
He’d closed himself off as quickly as the slam of a door.
“You can’t even throw me a bone?” That got her zip in return. “What, are they gonna put you in jail if you tell me where you were last Tuesday? Or what you ate for lunch?”
Mute, his head dropped back to the pillow. Either unable or unwilling to disclose the slightest detail. She didn’t know which one was worse.
“Wh-what happens if I wanna call you? O-or come see you? What if you run out of Coors Light? How will I know wh-where to bring you some?” Hot sugar, was she crying? Yes. Yes, she was. Not full-on bawling, thank God, but just a teary-eyed, mini-breakdown. It was mortifying. “I’ve always wanted to visit Afghanistan in autumn, you know.”
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. “Don’t ever leave this country without me by your side. It has nothing to do with trying to control you or me being an overbearing asshole. There are places not safe for women traveling alone.”
“I’m not going to Afghanistan, you knucklehead. I’m joking.”
“I’m not. And I can’t tell you, Liv. I can’t tell you anything, not even what stale sandwich or shitty soup I may or may not have eaten for lunch last Tuesday. And if you need to reach me, you call my play phone. I already plugged the number into your cell. I may not answer.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Shit, there’s no may. I won’t answer. But I’ll call you back as soon as I can. It may be hours. It may be days. Hell, it may be weeks. But I will call you back, I promise.” Dragging her up his body, he hugged her close, his forehead against hers. “This is the part where you trust me, okay?”
His body tensed when she didn’t respond.
This was going to be hard. The not knowing. The never knowing. Sending him off to God only knew where, as if there was a guarantee he’d return by dinnertime. As if there was a guarantee he’d return at all. But her brain no longer had a choice in the matter.
Old logic gave way to new love. Her heart already decided.
“Okay.”
“Say it, Livvy.”
“I trust you.”
He relaxed, the tension leaving his body. “How’s Hope? She doing okay?”
The rapid change in subject was welcome.
“She’s a pretty teenage girl,” Olivia replied, with a knowing laugh. “She’s navigating her way through life, one boy at a time.”
“Great. Now I have to track down and kill a few punks before I head out.”
“Oh, stop with the badass soldier act. She can take care of herself. She’s just rebelling against Marshall. Haven’t you ever rebelled against your dad?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He indicated their naked bodies. “I’m doing it right now. And it’s no act. There were times when she needed me to protect her. Her mom wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Did some things any judge in family court would consider felony child abuse.”
“Really? Oh, that poor thing.” Hope’s mother was a taboo topic around the vineyard, but Olivia couldn’t imagine anyone hurting the sweet girl. “That’s terrible. Was she arrested? Did they punish her?”
The blank look in his eyes told her nothing.
The sudden rigidity in his body told her something.
The fist he made, a completely subconscious gesture, told her everything.
“No. She was punished, though. Hope deserved to have her wrongs righted, and I was more than happy to do it. Inez never hurt her again.”
He left it at that, pushing her to her back and kneeing her legs apart, reaching for a condom as he sealed his mouth over hers.
Minutes later, when a thin sheen of sweat covered their bodies and she was ever so close to another wonderful orgasm, he stopped, pinning her with a smoldering stare that could turn a nun into a whore.
“What?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
Did the condom slip off? Did he leave the oven on? Did a meteor just hit the condo and his huge ramming manhood kept her from noticing?
“I love you.” His eyes were so blue they looked Photoshopped. “I love you, Liv.”
It was the first time love had been served up, and she was stunned Ash had taken the first bite. After a single weekend together, no less.
“I don’t have a goddamn clue how the hell that happened, but it did, and I thought you should know.” He kissed her, their lips clinging as if sealing a deal. Then he slapped her ass. “Now back to business.”
“No, wait. Stop—” Her laugh turned to a gasp as he hit a particularly good spot. Then hit it again. Clutching his ears, she steered his face to hers. “Ash, wait. I—” She’d never said this to a man in her life. “I think I love you, too.”
It had never been true until now.
“Like I love you?” It was a remarkably serious question amid hot, sweaty sex.
“How do you love me?”
“Not half-assed. Not just for now.” His lips brushed her temple. “All the way.”
She swallowed, knowing she might be kissing her career goodbye. “Then yes, like you love me. All the way.”
In the coming months, Olivia would tell Ash she fell in love with him the moment she had an orgasm with him inside her. And honestly, there was a kernel of truth to that.
But in reality, it was when, in a sparse condo in Mission Bay, he unknowingly outed himself as the protector of a little girl turned rebellious teenager. As the executioner of a barbaric population of extreme terrorists. As the defender of freedom and liberty in its most humanizing sense.
And as the incredibly accomplished man who could have any woman in the world, but instead, loved a smart-mouthed girl from the poor side of Savannah, Georgia.
And he didn’t just love her, he loved her all the way.
Which is why, only a few months later while on his two-week leave, Olivia Quinn stood in front of a minister in the rose garden at Coleson Creek Winery, wearing white lace and pure happiness, and married Asher Coleson. With only Macy, Hope, Rosa, Benny, and a curiously subdued Marshall Coleson in attendance, they pledged their undying love to each other, promising to forsake all others until death did them part.
It was a beautiful wedding and an equally beautiful sentiment to begin their life together, and the new Mr. and Mrs. Asher Coleson believed it with every beat of their intertwined hearts.
And then someone died. And somebody broke a promise.