Nick followed Sam into the room that was tricked out in Red Sox and superhero decorations and smelled like the Hatchet cologne he’d recently begun wearing much to their dismay. Sam had tried to tell him that no girl—ever—would be attracted to a guy who smelled like that stuff. She’d bought him some Lacoste cologne for Christmas, and they were hoping he’d take to it—soon.

Sam leaned over the bed, brushed dark hair from Scotty’s forehead and kissed him. Nick followed suit, running his fingers through the hair that was so much like his he might’ve been the boy’s biological father. But he wasn’t. Some other guy had fathered him, and they were making the required effort to find him so they could finalize the adoption. Nick might actually sleep at night once that was done.

He shared a smile with Sam, then followed her from the room.

“Good night,” they said to Darcy.

“Good night. Sleep well.”

In their room, Nick closed the door and locked it. None of the agents would dare step foot in there unless the house were on fire or the country under attack, but Nick always locked the door anyway, needing the assurance that for these few hours anyway, they’d be completely alone. If Scotty needed them, he would knock on the door.

He stripped off his tie and shirt, tossing them over a chair in his haste to be free of the dress clothes he spent far too much time in these days. Watching Sam’s contorted effort to reach the zipper of her dress had him crossing the room to assist.

“Oh, please,” he said. “Allow me.” Moving her hair to the side, he punctuated his words with kisses to the back of her neck that had her sighing and leaning against him. “I can’t get to the zipper with you snuggled up against me.” He slid his arms around her.

“I needed this first.”

“Anytime.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“It was entirely my pleasure, as is any time I get to spend with you.” He peppered her neck with kisses, making her moan when he latched on to her earlobe. “Let me get that zipper for you. I want to see what’s under this number.”

“There wasn’t room for much, so don’t get too excited.”

He pressed his erection into the cleft between her buttocks. “Too late.” Her girlish giggle, the one she saved only for him, was music to his ears. He released her only enough to access the zipper. With it unfastened, she shimmied out of the dress, sending his arousal into the red zone as he watched her hips slide from side to side. “Could I get that on video sometime?”

“In your dreams.”

“That was so hot, babe.”

“What was? All I did was take off my dress.”

He took hold of her hand and pressed it against his erection. “And look what happened when you did.”

“Mmm, that feels pretty serious. We should do something about that.” She turned to him, her breasts barely contained by a sheer strapless bra. His gaze wandered down to the scrap of thong that covered her.

He licked lips that had gone dry with lust. “And you said I shouldn’t get too excited. Look at you.”

She pulled his T-shirt up and over his head and then went to work on his belt and pants. “I’d so much rather look at you.” When he sprang free of his boxers, she took him in hand and then dropped to her knees before him.

Oh, Christ. “Sam, I don’t know if I can take that tonight.”

“Since when are you good for only once? It’s a holiday. We’ve got all night, and we even get to sleep in.” As she spoke, she let her lips vibrate against his shaft as she stroked him. The combination was overwhelming, and she’d barely touched him. Then she opened her mouth and drew him in, sucking and licking her way down his length.

“God, Samantha.” When his legs began to tremble, she cupped his balls, sliding her fingers back and forth until he could no longer control the need to pump his hips.

She took most of him, letting him slide into her throat and then swallowing, which finished him right off.

Fisting her hair, he let go of all his thoughts and cares and worries, giving everything he had to her in wave after wave of pleasure. She brought him down slowly, gently licking and touching him until he nearly had to beg for mercy. She kissed her way up to his belly and then to his chest, tonguing his nipples and then his lips.

“Come with me.” She grabbed the comforter and two pillows off the bed and brought them to the floor in front of the gas fireplace, which she lit with the press of a button. “Remember last year?”

“I remember.” He joined her on the floor, wrapping his arms around her as she arranged the comforter over them. “The first night we spent in this house.” Behind her back, he unhooked her bra and moved it out of the way, loving the feel of her breasts against his chest. Then he pushed the thong down her legs, and slid his leg between hers.

“In case I never told you,” she said, “I really love this house. I love that it’s right near my dad’s. I love that you live here and that Scotty lives here now and that we got to stay here after your promotion.”

Laughing, he said, “Is that what we’re calling the mess I’ve made of our lives?”

“Uh-huh. I love that I got a whole room for a closet, and you know how much I love our loft.”

“The loft is a personal favorite of mine too.” As he kissed her, he moved so he was on top, poised between her legs while gazing down at her. “But having you here with me is the best part. You and Scotty. You guys are all I need to be happy.”

Based on the fact that he hadn’t heard a word from his new boss or the new boss’s staff since the day he was sworn in, Nick had a sneaking suspicion that Nelson had used him to boost sagging approval ratings. The president had been reelected by one of the narrowest margins in history, and the Democrats had lost control of the House. The president’s second term promised to be contentious and polarizing, so a popular vice president wouldn’t hurt anything.

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked him.

He realized that he’d punched out on her, which he never did when she was naked beneath him. “How good you feel.” More than anything, Nick hated having to hide his worries from Sam, who’d been so supportive and understanding as the Secret Service invaded their lives and their home.

“You know how you can make me really happy right now?” she asked with the coy smile he adored.

“How?”

She took him in hand, stroked him until he was harder than he’d been before she made him come, and guided him home.

As he slid into her, his mind cleared of anything that didn’t involve her. Encased in her tight heat, he had no choice but to give her his full attention. As long as he had this, as long as he had her, he’d be okay. That was all he knew for sure. Then she wrapped her arms and legs around him, and his heart overflowed with love for her. She gave him everything, even things she didn’t know he needed.

“Samantha.” His lips found hers in a hungry, devouring kiss. He was still kissing her when he felt her tighten around him, a sign that she was close. She who’d had trouble achieving climax in past relationships came every time with him, which was another thing to love about what they had together. He gave it to her hard and fast, which always triggered her release. This time was no different.

He kissed her again, to smother the sound of her cries, and went with her, surging into her until they were both depleted and breathing hard. “Love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too. Happy New Year.”

“Same to you, baby.” Though he expected the New Year to be lousy on many fronts, he’d do everything he could to make sure it was a happy year for her and Scotty. Their happiness and safety were the only things that truly mattered to him.

* * *

A ringing phone woke them early the next morning. Sam groaned when she realized it was hers. She checked the caller ID and saw it was Dispatch. “Motherfucker.”