Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance (29 page)

“Um, so can we
talk
about your new stepbrother now?”

Can we not?

Jessica whistles on the other end of the line, a line that’s much clearer than the last time we talked now that she’s back in L.A. “Girl, he is sex on a
platter
.”

I roll my eyes. “He is
not
.”

“Oh please, it’s not like he’s your real brother, you can admit it he’s hot, Mads.”

“He’s…” I trail off. “He’s a jerk.”

“Jerks are hot, Mads.”

“
Not
this one.
Particularly
not this one,” I add, feeling the rage building inside me and picturing Anya’s stupid
stupid
face. “He’s so
cocky
and domineering, and a
total
manwhore. And he thinks just because he’s got a big dick that he’s God’s gift to women.”

Shit. Oops.

“
Giirrrrl!
” 

I cringe at Jessica’s squeal, burying my head in my hand.

“Okay,
what
do you know about his dick?!” 

“Nothing!”

“Well what was that supposed to mean then!?” she says, giggling. 

I feel my face burn hot, “It’s nothing! I just heard it was big, okay? Some stupid White House rumor.”

Jess snorts. “Well, that’s a way better rumor than I thought went on in that place.”

I swallow thickly. “Yeah, my PA mentioned it, I think.” 

My PA who was fooling around with someone I still haven’t identified, I might add.

“Okay, so let’s just recap then. Not your real brother, hot, sexy as fuck, war veteran, cocky, domineering and likes to fuck? Oh, and he’s hung?” Jess laughs into the phone. “Maddie,
what
is the problem with any of that?”

“
Um,
national scandal? Embarrassment? Ruin of reputation?” I’m ticking them off on my fingers as I spit them into the phone, as if I’m keeping tally myself.

“So, you
have
thought about it.”

I groan. “Oh my God,
no
.”

“Fine, then when I’m
finally
allowed to come visit you, I’m
certainly
jumping on that.” Jess snorts. “Literally.”

For a second, I see
red
. The very
idea
of Jessica with Hunter like that gets me suddenly furious, but I stuff it deep down inside. But that little piece of rage is enough to have me sitting there on the edge of my bed thinking of him and his ex, and that gets me even madder.

Oh, excuse me, “Anya”, the apparently very much NOT ex.

Anya, who I want to hate, but I know I may have played a part in her being cheated on. The first daughter, and the second girl.

Ugh.

And then I start thinking of Harry back at school, and how fucking
shitty
it felt to be in those shoes, and I squeeze my eyes shut and drop back onto the bed, somehow feeling even worse.

“Jess I have to go, something’s come up.”

“Is it Hunter’s big cock?”

I snort and grin in spite of myself. “Good
bye
, Jess.”

“Put in a good word for me, okay?”

I laugh as I hang up and then slump back onto the bed, letting the myriad of thoughts in my head flood over me. 

Because if Hunter is nothing, and just this ‘thing’, then why does the thought of him with anyone else in the world get me so mad that I see red?

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Without the job, and now without the distraction of fucking around with Maddie, there’s one word for days spent at the White House:
boring
.

I’m
bored
; bored out of my fucking mind, even with the crazy amount of distractions this place has. I mean there’s a movie theatre, and a pool, and a gym; shit, there’s even a damn shooting range in the sub-basement of the place. 

Except
none
of those things can possibly get my mind out of the funk of kicking around this place with her avoiding me like she is. And I’m still not even really sure
why
.

I’m lost in thought when I duck into one of the random study rooms somewhere in the south-east corner of the house. Dexter suddenly comes tumbling out of the door hidden behind a floor-to-ceiling portrait of Washington. He’s grinning and out of breath, but he freezes and quickly shuts the painting behind him as he nods his chin at me. 

“Whats up?”

I frown; he looks guilty as
fuck
. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing, man.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Dude, this isn’t private school. If you get busted with weed in
this place
, it’s going to be some serious shit.

Like I’m not guilty of worse
.

Dexter gives me a look. “I’m not an idiot, Hunt.”

I raise my brow at him.

“Oh c’mon, give me
some
credit.” 

I sigh. “Just don’t be an idiot, okay?”

“Says
you
.”

I furrow my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I growl out, feeling a cold chill run up my back.

Dex rolls his eyes and grins at me, “Hunt, I’m not fucking retarded.” 

I bristle, and he steps towards me, his hands up. 

“Hey, I’m not saying shit, man, I’m just saying I’m not fucking blind.” He arches a brow at me, “You’re my brother, and I
know
you.” 

“Look, whatever you think—” 

“Hey, like I said, it’s not my business and I’m not saying shit.” He punches me in the arm, “I’m just looking out for you, bro.”

“Hey, you take care of
you
, okay? I’m watching out for both of us.”

Dexter shrugs and pull his fucking cigarettes out of his pants and puts one in his mouth.

I yank it away.

“Hunt—”

“You know mom hated those fucking things.”

I narrow my gaze at him, as if daring him to say something sharp back with mom involved, but he just sighs and nods. 

“Yeah, I know.” He grins, “I think she’d be happy with all this, you know,” he chuckles. 

“I think she’d be laughing her ass off that dad’s going to be the
first
First Husband.”

I snort, “Yeah, she’d probably get a kick out of that.”

Dex grins again. “Big bad Major Alec Ryan hosting a charity luncheon, huh?”

I crack up. “Book drives, for sure.”

“Maybe he’ll start an elementary school exercise program.” Dexter starts scowling comically and strikes a wide-stanced pose. “Drop and give me twenty, you fucking second grade pussies!”

And then we both lose it completely, holding our sides, and I’m actually wiping a tear away by the time we’re finished.

“This is going to be a good thing man, I think,” my brother says with a shrug. “It’s going to be different, but good.”

I nod, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He grins and start to turn for the door when my eye catches something and I grin. 

“Hey, Dex?”

“Yeah?”

“On the subject of watching out for each other,” I clear my throat, grinning at him. “You got some lipstick on your pants there, buddy.”

His face goes a little red, but he just shrugs and grins at me, “Thanks. Oh, and on the same subject, that thing I don’t know about and have zero possible notion, clue, or hunch about?”

I clench my jaw and he holds his hands up again. 

“Hey, just thought you should know that she met Anya.”

My jaw drops, “Fucking
what?
”

Dex grimaces, “Yeah, Eleanor fucking had her come to the White House or some shit.”

I groan and feel my fists tighten at my side.

“I don’t
exactly
think she and that thing I don’t know shit about are going to be pals anytime soon.” He shrugs, “Just thought you should know,” he’s says, before he ducks out of the room.

I drop into the chair behind the desk, one that’s far smaller and far less important than the Resolute desk in the Oval Office.

I also haven’t fucked Maddie on this one.

Fuck
. So that’s where all this shit came from; fucking
Anya.
Anya the attention-whore, Anya who doesn’t actually love me, or even particularly
like
me. I’m sure she has some sort of angle here, pretending we’re an item again. 

Some sort of angle like my new stepmom: the President.

So that explains the sudden frost from Maddie. Honestly, it’s almost funny though, in a way. I mean, is she actually
jealous
of my ex? The thought is almost adorable, and not altogether
un
sexy. Actually, I think with a grin as I lean back in the chair, it’s sort of hot to think of her being that possessive of me. 

We’re not even a thing. 

I mean to boil it down to brass tacks, we’ve had sex twice. Okay, sure, incredibly hot, mind-blowing, fucking
insane
sex, but that the idea of another woman with me gets her that jealous is actually sort of cool. And that’s obviously what it is.

I shake my head at how silly it is, except when I think of
her
with another
guy
, it suddenly clicks. 

It clicks as I see a flash of red rage across my mind. The
idea
of any other man on the planet touching her has my blood boiling and the fury welling up inside. Because she’s
mine
. 

I’m fully aware of how weirdly and crazy possessive that sounds, and how backwards it is. It makes me sound like I’m some sort of ancient lord or whatever, claiming my right.

But
claiming
is what I want to do with Madison Adams. I want every part of her; I want to consume her. I want to make her
mine
; every part of her.

I growl as I take that to its fullest extent in my mind, and it gets me hard as a rock.
Every
part of her;
all
of her. I feel my cock swell in my pants as I wonder briefly if she’s ever…

Yeah, no, of course she hasn’t.