Secret Service

by Tal Bauer

Brennan Walker had my heart in his hands from the moment I first walked into his Oval Office. There is a key to a part of my soul I never knew existed, and he holds that key inside himself.

There are people who should not come together in this world. Reality quakes too strongly beneath the force of their love. I am no one. I am no titan, no giant walking this planet, but if my love for this man was ever tested—if ever the world tried to take him from me—I would rip the sky from the edges of this earth. This love I feel terrifies me, and it’s terrified me from the moment our gazes first locked, when the distance between our souls seemed like an impossible, unknowable divide. Human beings are not meant to carry nuclear reactors within their hearts.

We should never have met, because there’s nothing I won’t do for Brennan, and that kind of love—burn the world down, fly the black flag, you are my forever for always—is too dangerous. We are dangerous together.

Brennan Walker’s presence—restrained power, raw masculinity—fills the office, as thick as the ocean is with salt.

He kisses me like the sun kisses the earth when it rises. Slow, an unfolding of warmth, of playful light and hints of heat. And then, all at once, bright and hot and burning away all doubt. We come together like this is fate, like I was always meant to kiss him and he was always meant to kiss me.

“I want to marry you.” His voice is less than a whisper. Less than sound. I feel his words more than I hear them. It feels like I’m marrying him now. “I’m yours, Brennan. And I’ll always be yours.”