Page 53 of It’s Always Been You (Always #1)

Four months later

“Um, I can see the curve of my butt.”

“Well, if you bend a little, yes, but that’s the whole point.”

Caitlin was eyeing her tiny silver-champagne dress in the mirror. It was her second girls’ night out with Beatrice. The redhead told her not to bother dressing up at home for she had the perfect dress waiting for her.

“A little peek-a-boo?” Caitlin muttered. “Luckily, I wore a nice pair of panties and not my grandma undies.”

“From all the sun you’ve gotten from your honeymoon, you need to show off your long shapely legs,” Beatrice added.

“Says the woman who’s five-eight.”

“Seriously, Cat, wear these three-inch heels and you look like your legs could go on forever. I wish I had the shape of your gams.”

Caitlin turned around so she could see the right side of her body.

The scar that ran the length of her leg from the top of her knee to the middle of her calf didn’t bother her any longer.

She wore it proudly like the battle scar it was.

The thin white line set against her tan did stand out, but she was so secure in Travis’s love that none of her blemishes mattered, including the new one on her back.

They had gotten married again three weeks ago in a simple ceremony.

She was officially Caitlin Blake. Two weeks in Fiji, wearing nothing but a tiny bikini almost the entire time with not a care in the world—it was liberating, exhilarating.

And the best part was she had Travis. She sighed.

“Okay, quit daydreaming about your man,” Beatrice groused.

“I’m not,” Caitlin protested, heat creeping up her cheeks.

“Deny all you want. You’ve got that dreamy-eyed look on your face, and that sigh was a dead giveaway. Sheesh, it’s like you just didn’t see him this morning, not to mention having spent an entire two weeks with him on a deserted island.”

“It wasn’t deserted.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. Caitlin grinned.

They had become great friends, especially after everything that went down with the plutonium cache.

This was ironic, because Travis had not spoken to Admiral Porter in all that time, refusing to take his calls.

Caitlin knew he was hurting, and this discord between him and the admiral was the only wrinkle in their happiness.

Caitlin had tried to talk to her husband about it, but he’d always shut it down, saying he wasn’t ready to trust the man again.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“It’s an exclusive club, not that you need a membership, but you have to look good so you can get in.”

“A club for beautiful people?” Caitlin frowned. “Not sure I want to go to one of those dance clubs with skinny models and shallow people.”

Beatrice giggled, “No. People who exude power.”

This piqued Caitlin’s interest. She narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Are we going there for work or pleasure?”

The redhead smiled sheepishly. “Both. Most of the foreign dignitaries go there to relax, so it’s a very strange mix of people. There’s a back room where interesting stuff goes on that requires a password.” Her expression turned smug. “And I, my dear, have the password for tonight.”

“What kind of interesting things?” Caitlin asked dubiously. “If it’s having sex in public, you can forget about it. I’ll stick to the dance floor.”

Beatrice pouted at her. “Oh, come on, don’t you want to get riled up before you go home to your man? I’m sure Travis would love that.”

“You clearly don’t know Travis.” Caitlin tugged the hem of her dress as if doing so would make it longer. “He’ll strangle me if he finds out I’m wearing this dress.”

“Ooooh, I didn’t know you guys were into that kind of kink.”

Before Caitlin could retort, the doorbell buzzed.

“That’s Emily. Seriously, Travis is a slave driver; it’s almost ten p.m. It’s Friday night for heaven’s sake,” Beatrice said.

Caitlin held her tongue because the project they were working on was Beatrice’s client. So if they didn’t get the security detail squared tight, it was the redhead’s reputation on the line.

Travis’s diminutive assistant walked in, dressed to the nines in a little black dress, and come-fuck-me spiked heels.

Emily eyed Caitlin’s dress and grinned. “Travis will love your dress.”

The sarcasm was not lost on her.

Travis summoned all his willpower to concentrate on the building schematics laid out in front of him as Ed Shephard outlined his strategy for protecting the senatorial contingent planning a visit to the countries of Eastern Europe.

“We have the suites on the top floor reserved for the senators so we won’t have to worry about other hotel guests on that level,” Ed said. “We’ll have a team go in and do a sweep right before the senators check in.”

“Senators Kennedy and Spencer are bringing their families. I just got that bit of information tonight,” Travis informed them.

“Shit.” This from Nate. His friend checked his tablet for team rotations. “We’ve got a team coming off detail in the next week that should be fit for nanny duty.”

Travis chuckled, “I’ll have you inform Danielle yourself. You have a way with the ladies.”

Nate groaned, “I guess. Hell, I don’t know why she’d complain. She gets to go sightseeing with the senators’ wives.”

“We know she doesn’t give a damn about sightseeing, which makes her the best agent for this job. She blends well. I swear that woman has eyes on the back of her head,” Ed said.

Nate grinned. “You know I’m just kidding, right, guys? I recruited Dani.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost midnight. Should we pick this up on Monday? We’ve pretty much gone through every hotel and venue on their itinerary.” He got up and made for the door.

Travis and Ed exchanged glances. Travis gave his team lead the chin lift. Nate had the door halfway open when Ed stepped in front of him, laid his palm on the door, and pushed it closed.

“Not so fast, Reece,” Shephard said smoothly. “You know where our women are tonight, right? Now is the time to ‘fess up.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “After the fiasco of the last girls’ night out, I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

Nate was referring to the night Caitlin had first gone out with Beatrice and Emily.

Nate went along with Travis and Ed after the two men promised to remain at a discreet table in the crowded dance club/bar.

However, when a couple of men started harassing the women, they stepped in.

Travis smacked a guy down right in the middle of the dance floor, and they were all thrown out and banned from returning for a year.

Beatrice was royally pissed because the place was one of her favorite haunts and maintained that the girls had everything under control.

Nate concurred, however Ed and Travis thought otherwise.

He and Caitlin got into a big fight that night as well with no one clearly getting their point across because they ended up having angry sex and then by morning, the whole incident was ignored. And here they were again.

“Her phone is showing to be at Beatrice’s condo,” Travis said. “And we know at this time of the night, or rather . . . morning, that’s not likely.” His wife was going to get a spanking. She knew better than to leave her phone behind even if it was to avoid him tracking her.

“Em’s phone is at Beatrice’s as well,” Ed said.

“Why can’t you guys chill?” Nate mumbled.

“We can have our own night out. After all the work we’ve done this week, we could go to Rooster Bar and raid their top-shelf Scotch.

My treat?” Nate eyed them hopefully. “How about a strip club? You know the girls won’t mind as long as it’s hands off, right?

” Nate met Travis’s eyes, which were unwavering.

His friend’s shoulders slumped. “You guys are going to get me into trouble.”

Travis and Ed crossed their arms on their chest. Ed was leaning heavily on the door.

Nate sighed, “I’m not going to get outta here alive unless I spill, am I?”

Both men nodded.

Caitlin was getting dizzy; she couldn’t even finish the one drink she’d been nursing all night.

The music was too loud and the club was getting too packed.

Packed with all kinds of people. Some were just too beautiful to look at.

Some were too scary—like they were right out of a gangster movie.

This evening’s theme was “Speakeasy,” which explained why Beatrice dressed her in a vintage flapper dress that skimmed her butt and the abundance of Al Capone-attired male clientele.

It was already half past midnight; the three of them were in line to this room Beatrice couldn’t wait to enter.

“So what exactly is in there?” Emily asked, words slurring. Travis’s assistant just finished her third drink.

“BDSM-lite,” Beatrice quipped.

“Tell me you’re joking.” Caitlin made a move to get out of the line, but Beatrice yanked her back to the front. “I don’t think I’m up for watching someone flogged in front of an audience. Are you?”

“I could be a domme,” Beatrice whispered to both of them. “I’m just trying to see if it works for me.”

“So all this talk about foreign dignitaries was all you blowing smoke up our asses so we’d come with you?” Emily asked.

The smug smile that Beatrice flashed them affirmed her deception. Damn, she may not have fallen far from the apple tree after all.

“Password,” The big bouncer guarding the door asked Beatrice. The redhead whispered into the bouncer’s ear. He nodded and let the three of them through.

A welcome blast of cold air hit Caitlin’s overheated skin.

The room was dark, and all she could see were dark silhouettes at first until she moved further into the room where tiny pin lights cast a mysterious purple glow over the audience.

The spotlight was on the stage. She couldn’t see anything at this point, but she heard the crack of a whip and someone shouting.

“Three!”

There was a low voice; Caitlin couldn’t understand the words.