Gus melted as Roman’s mouth found her own. It was wrong. She knew it even as she felt the electric heat burn through her system. She should tell him to fuck off. She should tell him that she wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.

Her brain tried to convince her to refuse him. But it was no longer in control. Her body was, and it knew what it wanted.

Roman Calder.

His mouth covered hers, destroying her resistance and ramping up her need in a way no other man ever could. Or ever had. She wasn’t a petite thing, but Roman made her feel that way. His big, muscular body blanketed hers, and she loved the way he crushed her to his chest, as though he was afraid to even let her breathe in case she slipped through his fingers. He made her feel feminine and soft against him.

“So long. Too damn long,” he whispered against her mouth before running his tongue over her bottom lip, demanding she let him inside.

Gus did what came naturally with Roman. She softened and gave in. Instantly, he devoured her with his kiss again. She began to unravel.

The danger this man posed to her was real. When they were close, she couldn’t think about anything except how it felt to be wrapped up in his embrace, how good it was to be the center of all that ruthless attention.

His arms banded more tightly around her. One hand gently grasped the back of her neck, guiding her to move with him as he plundered her mouth. His tongue dominated, the silky glide igniting sparks through her system.

His other hand slid to the curve of her ass and hauled her closer, pressing her against him. There. She felt his cock already stiff and ready and rubbing against her in need.

“Feel that? I hope you do because I haven’t in months, baby. No women. No sex. Because all I can think about is you,” he muttered thickly against her lips. “Even when I slept with other women in the past, it took forever to get me half as hot as you make me simply by walking in a room. I told myself I was getting older, that this jolt of pure lust was only the hormone high of youth. Then I caught sight of you again. And I knew I’d been lying to myself.”

Months? He’d been celibate for months? She knew he’d dated because he and Zack had been out on the town with actresses and models galore. But he wanted her instead?

She sank into his kiss, his mouth enveloping hers utterly. He had the most gorgeous lips for a man. Lush and sensual. There had been a time when her whole world had turned on whether those lips were smiling or scowling or flipped up in that half smirk that let her know he was thinking about sex. “Don’t lie to me, Roman. I know who you’ve been dating.”

He sank his fingers into her hair, twisting lightly until her scalp tingled. “I’m not lying to you. All of those women are for show. This…this is fucking real.”

He slammed his mouth down on hers once more, tongue delving deep. Heat flashed through her.

Could he be telling the truth? Gus hated to admit that it had been a long time for her, too. Her sex drive had been healthy since adolescence, but after Mad died, grief had pressed down on her. Her world had felt shriveled and smaller than before. Coupled with Roman’s daily presence in her life, she hadn’t been able to think about climbing into bed with anyone.

She needed what Roman offered her now. She needed to feel like herself again. Maybe she hadn’t felt like herself for years because only one man could truly make her feel this alive.

Gus clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel his hot, hair-roughened skin against hers. All thoughts of fighting him, of wondering whether this was right and if she’d regret it tomorrow, were gone. She surrendered.

Roman turned her, flipping her around so her back pressed against his chest. He’d done it easily, using those beefy arms of his to maneuver her. He held her close. The heat of his breath blew against her ear. “No. Not yet. I’ve been waiting forever and I want to fucking touch you. Savor you. I won’t let you rush me.”

“But I want to touch you, too.” She had to admit this was something about Roman that had always gotten her hot and bothered. He didn’t play in the bedroom. He might compromise on pizza toppings or a movie selection, but when it came to sex he didn’t budge. He simply took control.

“You’ll touch me after I get what I want. I intend to relearn every inch of your body. I want to run my hands over every curve and valley. I want to use my fingers and my tongue.” He licked around the shell of her ear, making her shiver. “And I want to kiss and taste every fucking inch of you.”

This was what she’d been missing for thirteen damn years. Sex with other men had been nice. She’d enjoyed herself, but nothing had shaken the foundation of her soul. Nothing had come close to the times she’d let Roman deep into her body and heart.

It was hard to call what they’d done years ago mere sex because when Roman had maneuvered her beneath him and demanded she yield everything to him with a touch, the sensations had encompassed so much more than her body. Then—like now—she could feel how much he wanted her. As if no other woman in the world could satisfy him.

He caressed his way up her torso until he cupped her breasts. “God, I’ve missed these. You have the most gorgeous breasts. I dream about them at night.”

She couldn’t help but breathe with him, into him. Her hard nipples pressed against the silk of her dress. Even that almost created too much sensation, but the needy woman in her wished his hands covered her bare, aching tips instead. “Take my dress off.”

His teeth scraped over her sensitive earlobe as he dragged the sleeves of her dress and bra down. As usual, Roman did what he wanted, freeing only her breasts. The fabric also pinned her arms to her sides. Cool air hit her peaks, followed by pure heat as his greedy hands enveloped them, fingers working them. She shivered, writhed, caught up completely, unable to shove him away. She knew damn well he would respect any refusal she voiced.

But she had no intention of speaking one.

“Tell me you didn’t miss this,” he growled in her ear as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

She couldn’t help but rub her ass against him. His cock was right there, long and thick and hard as hell. Still, she couldn’t make this easy for him. She didn’t want to risk too much of her heart. “I didn’t.”

He pinched down, making her groan. “Bullshit. I can tell. What would happen if I pulled your skirt up and ran my hand up your thigh? If I found your pussy, would it be wet and ready for me? That was one of the things that always drove me crazy, Gus. You responded so readily to me. All I had to do was touch you and you went wild.”

She felt wild. For the first time in years, pure lust thrummed through her blood. This wasn’t some itch any man could scratch. Only Roman could make her this hungry, then slake her need to sighing satisfaction. Only Roman and his rough, dirty mouth could take her to these heights.

“Maybe I go wild for everyone.” She couldn’t give in without a fight. She couldn’t give him everything. She couldn’t let him know how terribly he was unraveling her with every touch. She especially couldn’t admit after all these years that she still dreamed of him, too. She was constantly haunted by what they could have had, by what she’d lost that terrible day.

She stiffened. Damn it. She wasn’t going there. She couldn’t.

“No, you don’t.” His voice was softer now and she felt his mouth on the curve of her throat. “Maybe I’m fooling myself, but in my mind I will always be the man for you. I’m convinced you’re like me, desperate to feel young and wild, the way I did when the world was still wide open to me. That’s what I feel when I think of you.”

Youthful and carefree and brimming with possibilities. That’s what he sought. No wonder they’d been doomed. All she’d wanted during her year with Roman was him. “Don’t talk or I’ll walk away. I want this. Hell, I might even need this, but I can’t play these games with you again.”

He growled in her ear and she found herself being hauled into his arms, against his chest. As if she weighed nothing. As if she was some tiny waif he could play with at will.

He crossed the room to the couch that had played host to several presidents and world leaders over the years. Roman dropped her on the antique and moved between her legs, like a general consolidating a victory.

With his hands on her knees, he slowly pushed her thighs apart, watching as her skirt slid up. “It’s not a game. No games this time.”

But everything was a game with Roman. Even when he didn’t know he was playing, there were always possibilities to dissect, moves to be considered and made. Even knowing that, she couldn’t turn him away, not when he was so close. Not when the last few months had been so devoid of joy or pleasure. She’d lost Mad, and now she had so many questions about Zack. She would have to interrogate him, subtly of course.

At some point, she’d have to interrogate Roman about his best friend, too. But not tonight. Now she wanted to believe that it was all a hideous mistake and Roman was exactly the noble—if complicated—man she’d always believed him to be. That he was strong and ruthless but damn loyal. The kind of man who would never hurt his country…or one of his childhood friends.

“I told you I don’t want to talk.” Otherwise, she couldn’t pretend. If they kept talking, she would have to remember why she was in London. And she would have to walk away from this brief moment of heaven.

“Then I’ll have to do something else to keep my mouth occupied, won’t I?” As he gave her a crooked smile, his hands slid farther up her thighs, making her shiver.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He stared at her breasts. His jawline tightened and his eyes went pitch black with desire. Gus could feel her heart thudding against her chest. Every inch of her skin had come alive as he moved with slow, purposeful grace.

She couldn’t look away, could barely breathe. She was half naked in front of the only man she’d ever loved and he was so, so close to touching her where she needed him most.

“You’ll have to tell me what to do, Augustine. If you don’t want me to talk, how can I possibly occupy my mouth?”

She hated her full name. It made her sound like some fainting Victorian heroine. And yet when Roman caressed the syllables with his deep-as-sin voice, she loved it. He made her name sound like sex and need and pure woman.

“You know what I want.” She wanted his mouth on her needy flesh, licking her, sucking her. Making her forget about everything except this man and the pleasure they could share.

“I can do that.” He leaned over and kissed her knee with a soft brush of his lips. “Here?”

Bastard. “No.”

“So you’re going to be picky, are you? I should have known. I can think of a place to put my mouth.” He leaned closer, bracing his hands on either side of her and lifting more of his body over her own.

Then he sucked her nipple into his mouth, and Gus nearly screamed. His tongue rolled around her sensitive peak as he pressed her against the sofa cushions. The hard edge of his teeth nipped her. She gasped, her body flashing hot in an instant. God, she was getting ripe and wet, as though there was a direct line from her nipple straight to her pussy. Each suck and lick and swipe of his tongue made her swell with need.

“This is a good occupation for my mouth.” He kissed his way to her other breast, giving it the same lavish attention. “I’m sure we can find something to do with my hands, too. Tell me where I should touch you, Augustine.”

She lifted her hips to him, moaning as she searched for the relief only he could provide. “Touch my pussy, Roman. Suck my nipples while you fuck me with your fingers.”

“God, you have the filthiest mouth.” For a moment, he tilted up so he could cover her lips with his. His kiss told her that he loved everything about her mouth, including how dirty it could be.

He caressed her with his tongue. She parried back, drowning in the sensation while he shifted to one side and slid his hand between her legs. Gently, he bit her bottom lip, sucking it behind his teeth as his fingers eased under the edge of her barely there thong.

Gus couldn’t move. Roman pinned her legs open with his big body. He’d trapped her arms with the sleeves of her dress. He’d tied her up as neatly as if he’d had a rope. “I want to touch you.”

“You are,” he whispered. “Your lips are touching mine. Give me your tongue again.”

She opened her mouth and drank him in. It wasn’t enough. “I want to touch you with my hands. I want to touch you the way you’re touching me.”

He slipped the pad of one finger over her clit. “Later. If you touch me now, I might come in your hand, and that’s not how I see this evening ending. Tell me you don’t want this.”

He rubbed her, his fingers moving easily over her sensitive button because she was wetter than she’d been in forever. He sank one finger inside her, teasing her inner walls while his thumb on her clit did terrible, destructive things to her self-control.

“You know I do.” She couldn’t lie about that. Later, she could make up some excuse about not having sex in forever, but right now she couldn’t turn him away. “Are you going to give it to me, Roman?”

She didn’t merely want it. She needed it, had to have it. If he pulled away now, she would freaking scream in frustration. She might lose her mind.

“Fuck, yes. I’m going to give it to you. Then you’re going to give me something.” He kissed her again, their mouths merging in a hot dance.

With perfect precision, he shifted his hand. He added another finger, fucking deep inside her and hooking up to find her sweet spot. He pressed down on her clitoris. Sensations clawed. Gus couldn’t catch her breath. God, she’d been waiting for this—for him—for half a lifetime. And when he rubbed her insistently, silently demanding she surrender her pleasure to him, she could do nothing but close her eyes, give in to him, and hurtle over the sharp, sweet edge.

Gus let the orgasm crash through her system. Her body pulsed. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as the release overtook her, wracking her, undoing her.

This was what she needed. Not simply the sex, but the overwhelming dominance Roman brought to the bedroom. She didn’t have to think, just follow his lead. No one else in the world gave her that. In everyone else’s bed, she’d always been the leader. In their work lives, Gus would never even think about giving in to Roman, but in his arms? Here she could just let go and take the pleasure he gave her. All she had to do in return was give him everything he wanted.

She was beyond ready.

“Fuck, Augustine. Oh, you feel so good. You’re so damn hot. Gorgeous. Look at you,” he whispered. “Give me more. Give me what I want. Scream for me all night.”

She was too far gone to reply, much less argue. She wasn’t going to send him to bed alone, not when she could be with him. His fingers had provided relief, but she knew that climax would be nothing compared to the heights his glorious cock could take her. She ached to spend the rest of the night underneath him, his body working over hers, connecting them in a way they hadn’t been for too many years. “I will, Roman. You know I can.”

“Good,” he said slowly, his hand still gently working over all her tingling spots, creating pleasurable aftershocks. “Don’t talk to that Secret Service agent again. Tell me you’ll stay away from him entirely and you’ll keep Liz out of trouble.”

His soft words washed over her like a bucket of freezing water. She turned them over again in her head. Had he just used her desire against her to get something he wanted out of bed? “What?”

He nuzzled her neck, his tone still low and seductive. “That’s all I want. You and Liz safe and out of trouble. You don’t need to hang out with Kemp. Keep your distance from him and I’ll take care of you whenever you need something.”

When she needed sex.

Damn it. She’d been naive to assume that Roman could—or would—put aside his scheming simply to be with her. Bitterness welled. She knew the sort of man he was, but the minute he’d touched her, her brain had flown out the door. She’d let herself become his pawn.

Stupid.

“Get off me.” What had felt like a decadent, wonderful miracle moments ago had become a chilling reminder of all the ways Roman could exploit her—if she let him. She struggled to wriggle her arms free from her sleeves so she could push the bastard away.

Roman’s head lifted, his stare zeroing in on her. “Come on, Augustine. I’m not asking for much. Stay away from that asshole and watch over Liz. How does that make me the bad guy?”

She struggled harder. She heard the dress tear, but it didn’t matter. At least she now could put her hands on his shoulders and force some distance between them. “I forgot that everything is transactional with you, Mr. Calder. I thought our exchange here was mere pleasure, but you’re far too cold for that, aren’t you?”

His jaw formed a stubborn line, his eyes hardening. “You think I’m not hot right now? What the hell do you call this?”

He ground his hips against her thigh, letting her feel just how hard his cock was.

Two minutes before that was all she’d wanted from him. She’d wanted to end the evening with him buried deep inside her, but now she realized his entire come-on had been bullshit. He wanted to give her just enough to persuade her away from another man. The old I-don’t-want-you-but-no-one-else-can-have-you crap. And why? Because he needed to be in control? Or something deeper?

Tears threatened. She felt exposed, raw. Everyone believed she was a strong, independent woman. And she was…but not when it came to Roman Calder. He made her feel young and dumb and heedless again, so hopeful that if she gave him enough of herself, he would love her back.

Ridiculous.

“I call that something you likely get when there’s a stiff breeze in the room. Get off me.” She gave him another shove.

His expression changed as though he’d realized her rebuff wasn’t some coy ploy to heighten his anticipation and amp up the sex. “What are you talking about? I told you how it’s been for me. Augustine, why are you so angry?”

He knew the answer. “I’m going to scream if you don’t get off me right this second. Don’t think I won’t. We all know how much you don’t want to get caught fucking the office slut, so you should move quickly or this scandal will go front page.”

He practically leapt off her. “I never said that. Never fucking once, and I have a real problem with you calling yourself that. Did someone else say it? Because I’ll take off his fucking head.”

Gus had to hand it to Roman. He was so damn good she almost believed his indignant reply. Maybe he’d missed his calling and should have been an actor, instead of the White House chief of staff.

She rose quickly, shoving her skirt down and pulling the bodice of her dress up until she was covered. Yet somehow, standing in front of Roman, she still felt undressed. “You’ve got better things to do with your time than try to defend my honor, especially when you’ve always thought mine was questionable.”

He shoved a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged lion. “What’s wrong? Come on. Tonight does not have to end like this. It shouldn’t.”

“You ended this the minute you thought you could exchange sex for a ‘favor.’ Maybe you’ve decided sex is a good way to control me, but you’re wrong. I won’t let you, Roman. No matter how good you feel. I learned my lesson with you a long time ago. All I could ever get out of you is a good time in bed. You’re not built for anything else. And now the price is too high.”

“Is it so hard for you to understand that I would be jealous about you with another guy? Do you have to have us all on your string? How many men do you need at once? That was all I was asking for. As long as you’re in my bed, you’re only with me.”

“And I suppose you’ll be breaking off your date with Darcy tomorrow night?”

“That’s not the same.”

She laughed. “Of course. When you see someone else, it’s all for your job. When I do, it’s cheating. Your moral relativism is showing, Roman.” She’d worked with him for a few years now, and only when she’d shown interest in Matthew Kemp had he decided to crawl back between her legs. If she didn’t know Roman and Zack and the rest of the Perfect Gentlemen were keeping secrets, she might have been fooled. But she did. He was trying to keep her from investigating whatever the hell was going on.

What did Roman know about Mad’s death? She didn’t want to believe for an instant that he could have something to do with it, but why else would he insist that she leave another man alone? He might claim jealousy, but it seemed thin and convenient. He only seemed to care who she might be fucking when she showed interest in the very man who’d been at the airport the day of Mad’s death. Gus doubted that was a coincidence.

He took a deep breath and anchored himself in front of her, then reached out as though he meant to take her by the shoulders. When she jerked away from him, he stepped back. “Damn it, Gus. Is that what you want? I’ll call Darcy, end the whole thing. Hell, Zack basically told me to do it.”

She gave him what she hoped was a chilly smile. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering in your social life, Roman. After all, you have a job to do.”

And so did she. It was time she remembered that. The evening had gotten her closer to Matthew Kemp. They’d had a couple of drinks, shared some flirtation. Tomorrow, she would find a way into his room. Then she would damn sure discover whatever he might know about the reason Mad was killed. No forbidden, middle-of-the-night thrill with the best lover she’d ever had was going to derail her from solving Mad’s murder.

Because a thrill was all Roman would ever give her. He would take her so high she’d swear she was floating on clouds and singing with the angels. But the minute the sex ended, he’d let her crash back to earth and she would end up in the dirt, feeling battered and bruised and forgotten.

“Please. I don’t want to fight. I should have chosen my words more carefully,” Roman began. “Sit with me. Let’s talk. Nothing but talk, I swear. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

But now she knew his game. It would not work again. Talking would lead right back to his hands all over her and him trying to manipulate her to get what he wanted, which wasn’t really sex. It was her willing silence.

“Goodnight, Roman. Have fun on your date.” She grabbed her purse and turned to go.

He reached out, gripped her elbow, and for a second she was falling down those stairs again. Her knees knocked against the wood and jarred her entire body. Her world had gone off-kilter and tumbled. Ended.

She couldn’t forget how she’d lost her baby.

Gus whirled around without thinking. One minute she was walking out the door and the next she was thrashing against Roman. Fighting. Hitting. “Don’t touch me!”

He caught her in his arms. “Baby? Baby, what’s wrong? You’re crying. Oh, my god. Please tell me why you’re crying.”

“Let her go, Roman.”

She went completely still at the sound of Connor’s voice. What had happened? She didn’t cry. She especially didn’t let anyone see her tears. Yet she could feel them now running down her cheeks.

“Let her go.” Connor stepped into the room.

Roman released her, dropping his arms to his sides with a curse. He’d gone stark white as he turned to answer Connor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her.”

The former CIA operative’s voice went low. “I’m sorry but I was walking back to my room and you two didn’t close the door. I thought I should make sure no one walked in. Gus, let me walk you back to your room. Roman, go to bed. Don’t make me assign someone to guard her door.”

“What the hell do you think I would do to her?” Roman gaped, then turned her way. “Baby, I’m sorry. I screwed everything up. Please, just talk to me. Tell me what happened, because a moment ago you weren’t here with me. You were somewhere else bad.”

Yes, she’d gone back to that night. She’d thought she was over the hurt and pain of her loss, but tonight had proven that Roman could bring it all back. Without another word, she turned and walked out, trying to pull familiar numbness over her heart like a blanket. Hopefully by tomorrow she’d have her defenses shored up and emotions under control again.

She knew Connor was following her, but it didn’t matter. She managed to nod his way when she made it to her room.

“Gus, whatever happened in there, he didn’t mean to hurt you,” Connor said.

Yes, she’d heard that over and over again. “He never does, I’m sure.”

Connor put a hand on the wall, as though he was too tired to entirely hold himself up. “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure. You do that.”

“Gus, Dax isn’t here. If he hurt you, I’ll deal with him. He might be one of my best friends, but you are the closest thing I have to a sister. Don’t think I’ll let him take advantage of you.”

Clearly, she hadn’t managed numb yet, because all the feelings she tried to quiet screamed just under the surface, scraped her raw. Damn it, she was not going to cry again. “I’m fine, Connor.”

“Do you want to talk? Because it really did look like you mentally disappeared somewhere else. Do you know what PTSD is?”

“Of course. I’m fine. It was a momentary thing. I honestly thought I was over the past. I guess Roman brings out the worst in me. Thank you for being there. I promise I’m going to stay away from him. You won’t have to save me again.”

“If you need me for anything, all you have to do is call.” Connor reached up and wiped his thumb over her cheek, brushing away the tears she hadn’t known were falling again. “I know you used to talk to Mad, but he’s gone. So if you need someone, you can open up to me. I’ll be on your side,” he vowed. “Goodnight, Gus.”

“I’m fine, but thanks. Goodnight.”

She said the words, but when the door closed, she couldn’t hold back another torrent of scalding tears a second longer.