Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance (12 page)

“Fuck, Hunter-”

“How’s that memory working now?” He says darkly into my ear, making me shiver against him as his fingers work in slow circles over my panties. 

“It’s-”

“How about now?” 

I moan out loud as his fingers push my panties to the side and slide over my pussy. And then I’m yanking him down and into me, and whimpering as I feel his lips crush against my own. His hand comes up from my ass to cup my jaw as he pushes me hard against the statue behind us. Fingers push into my hair, pulling me tightly against his lips as he growls into my mouth and slides his tongue against mine. 

I moan again as his finger slides wetly against my opening and pushes inside,  shamelessly rocking my hips against him as it curls deep inside me. 

And I know how bad this is. I know how horribly off-limits this is and how past the line we’re moving. Not to mention what would happen if we got caught like this. 

Scandal on the highest level, a national affair that would
ruin
our lives. A dirty little secret that would be written about in fucking
history
books.

I don’t know what strings he pulled to get us here, but something tells me he’s past the line of what he should be doing by being in here
only
with me and not a whole group of agents. And that in itself just makes me think the chances of getting caught are even higher.

The danger is even more present, but for some reason, I’ve never been more wet and more turned on.

His finger curls against that sweet spot just inside, his thumb brushing over my clit and I moan into his mouth. I can feel his cock throbbing against me through his pants, and knowing he’s so hard and ready has my blood pounding in my chest.

I
want
him to
take me
, like he did before. I want him fuck me hard and rough. I want him to claim my body and make me melt into a puddle for him again. 

Here in the dark of the museum, I want him to tear this ridiculous pants suit off my body, bend me over the half-wrapped statue behind me, and
fuck
me the way he did in that sex club. 

The thought of it brings another whimper to my throat, and this time, he pulls away from my mouth with that grin on his face.

That
arrogant
fucking grin.

“I knew you’d beg for it,” he husks into my ear, making me furious despite the shiver slithering through me at the same time. 

The smug, egotistical look on his face has me fuming, but the finger stroking my pussy has me rolling my hips against him, doing everything I can to hold back the moan on the verge of  tumbling from my lips.

“Dream on,” I manage to gasp out, my eyes fluttering shut as his thumb rubs slow circles around my clit. 

“Oh fight it all you want, doll,” he whispers against my ear, making me moan. “But you’ll beg me to let you come.”

My eyes flutter shut again as he strokes my clit, whimpering at his hands and the coarse way he’s talking to me. 

“Not a fucking
chance
,” I mumble out, feeling my body melt against him.

And deep down, I know he’s right. Deep down, I know that no matter how hard I fight it or how much I lie through my teeth, if he keeps this up I’ll do and say anything for him to make me come. I want to deny it, and I hate my body for being so traitorous, but it’s true; I want him like I did that night.

And he damn well knows it. 

“You will.” His lips graze my ear again as he reaches up, takes my hand, and starts to bring it down. “And when you do,” I moan as he brings my hand down to the bulge at the front of his suit, letting me feel every thick inch of him. “It’ll be with every inch of my cock inside of you.”

Oh, fuck.

“Just tell me you want it, princess.”

I shake my head, feeling my body start to fall over the edge as his fingers stroke in and out of me and his thumb circles my clit. “Uh-uh, nope, not even a little bi-”

There’s the sudden burst of static from a radio from somewhere down the hallway, and we both freeze. 

“Roger that, checking the far hallway. B-team prepare for breech.”

Oh my God.

And then we’re both scrambling, jolted immediately into the now at the sound of the agent’s voice. I’m gasping as I rush to fix my pants and stuff my blouse back in.

I jump back from Hunter
just
as the sound of footsteps round the corner, and suddenly the lights are on and flooding the room, bathing the scene of the crime in light.

“Agent Ryan!” The man’s face is neutral but he does
not
sound pleased. He sets his jaw as he narrows his eyes at Hunter. “Agent,
where
is your-” His eyes land on the earpiece dangling from Hunter’s collar instead of in his ear where it should be, and suddenly he’s marching right over to us. “Jesus
Christ
, Ryan,” he mutters, his face suddenly livid as gets right in Hunter’s face as if I’m not standing right there.

Three other agents suddenly come around the corner and hang by the doorway giving muted directions on walkie-talkies as the first man glares at Hunter. 

“Do you have any idea how close I just came to shutting this whole Goddamn city down when you didn’t respond? What the
hell
were you doing back here? You’re supposed to be
watching
her-”

“He was, agent,” I say, quickly jutting in. “I was a little eager to see the Etruscan marble works, and I tripped on this one in the dark. Agent Ryan was just helping me up when you came in, and I must have knocked his earpiece out when I fell.” I smile as sweetly as I can, suddenly wondering if Secret Service agents are trained to know a lie when they see it.

Probably.

But I brush that thought away and hold his gaze, even ignoring Hunter when he grins at me over the man’s shoulder and gives an “O.K.” sign. 

“Agent Ryan didn’t even want me to come in here, but I was being stubborn, and I knew that the wing was closed off
anyways
so I didn’t think it’d be a problem.”

The older agent’s face is back to neutral as he stiffly holds my gaze. “You shouldn’t go off schedule and off a planned route like this, Ms. Adams.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

The man seems satisfied with my answer, but then he turns to Hunter and gets in his face again. 

“Just because the rest of the force hasn’t been made aware of your
impending situation
, don’t think for a second that I’d keep you on the force after a stunt like this if you weren’t as
connected
, shall we say, to the President.” He clears his throat as he turns to the other three by the door. “Let's get moving.” He turns back to Hunter. “Do your damn
job
, agent.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Oh my
God
, I can’t believe I’m talking to someone
inside
the White House!”

I grin and roll my eyes. “Oh, yeah, Jess, did I mention my mom was running for President? I thought maybe you’d seen something about it on local news or something.”

“Cute, very cute,” my friend says with a laugh over the phone. “So, how is it?”

“Big? White?” I shrug. “Boring, unexciting.” I hope the last part I say is convincing enough as I try to shove the memory of Hunter’s body pressed against mine and the wonderful and illicit thrill that rushed through me the other day in the secret hallway, or in the museum the day before.

“Oh, and bugged; this call is most likely being recorded, by the way.”

Yeah, my cell phone? Gone. Now I’ve got a special one that routes directly through some sort of internal server, so they can monitor it for threats or something. Remember how I said this was a place where it was impossible to keep secrets in? Big brother is very much watching.

Eww, phrasing
.

“
Ooo
, spooky,” Jessica says dramatically on the other end of the phone. “Hello, C.I.A.!” She says with a  laugh.

“Secret Service.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the Secret Service listening, well, potentially listening; not the C.I.A.”

“Oh I
see
,” Jess snorts. “And are they
servicing
you, miss White House?”

I can feel my cheeks get hot as my thoughts instantly go the day before at the museum, even though of course she’s just teasing me and isn’t actually insinuating anything. But of course, thinking of Hunter only gets me flustered.

No, wrong. Get that out of your head.
There’s a moment of gripping panic and fear, as if the phone tap can somehow read my terrible thoughts as well, even though I’m ninety-nine percent positive that’s not a thing.

It’s not, right?

I force the thought of Hunter’s wicked grin and smirking, blue eyes out of my head.

“Jess, you have a one-track mind, you know,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“So? It’s a good track, Mads, you should try it sometime.” She snorts. “
Actually
, I believe you
did
try it out after I finally got you to come with me that night. And if that freaking
glow
was any indication when I saw you later, I’d say you thought it was a pretty good track t-”

“
Jess!
” I hiss, panic shooting through me. “The phone? Other ears? Remember?”

“Right, right, sorry.” She snickers. “Wouldn’t want to excite those poor, hot, uniformed, Secret Service guys.”

Stop thinking about Hunter in uniform; just stop it.

“Hah, yeah, right.”

I can hear my friend sigh over the phone. “Okay, spill, what is it.”

“Hmm? What’s what?”

“Dude, I know you. You’re moping about something, so spill it.”

Busted
.

“It’s- it’s nothing, really. It’s just this place; being all cooped up here.”

“Well, get out there and have some fun!”

“Yeah, I
can’t
, that’s the problem. First daughter, national security risk, armed guard, watchful eyes; ringing any bells?”

“Well bite my head off, grumpy.”

“Sorry,” I mumble. “It’s just between the cabin fever of this place, and Hunter basically being my shadow all day, I’m just-”

“Um, let’s talk about this
Hunter
character.”

Let’s not and say we never did?

I can
hear
Jess lingering and hanging on for an answer on the other end. “
Well?
”

“Well nothing, he’s my Secret Service guy.”

“Oh
that
guy?” I freeze. “The tall dark and
sexy
standing behind you in those pictures from your mom's front-lawn gala night?”

“Um, maybe?”

Jessica sighs exasperatedly. “Dude, the guy dressed like a Secret Service agent with the earpiece thingy and everything with his hand on your back helping your through the crowd.”

“Oh,” I say quickly. “Yeah, I guess that was Hunter.”

She whistles. “
Daaaamn
, girl!
That’s
the guy you get to have following you around all the time?”

I frown. “
Yes
, Jess, that’s Hunter.”