Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance (68 page)

BOOK: Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance
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P R E S E N T

 

“Oh my God, you’re
terrible!
” I grin as she squirms in my arms, fighting but not
really
fighting me as I kiss up the side of her neck.

 


Hudson!
” She hisses, before a low moan escapes her lips and she closes her eyes as I nibble at her earlobe; “I’m on stage for the speech in like ten minutes!” She moans again, her hands running up my arms and clutching at my shoulders; “We should
really
start timing these shenanigans for when I’m not about to walk in front of a bunch of TV cameras looking like I just rolled around bed with someone.”

 

In fairness, we do this
other
than when she’s about to walk out for a speech or a debate or something too; all the fucking
time
in fact. But the fact that I want her
all
the time, and the fact that neither of us can keep our hands off each other means that here we are in situations just like this with my hand creeping up under her blouse, and her hand stroking my cock through my pants. 

 

“Yeah, but you
love
our shenanigans.” I growl into her ear, making her giggle before my fingers on her nipple makes her gasp.

 

“Well,
yeah
, but - oh
fuck
, right there.” I grin as my lips center around that magic switch of a spot I’ve found at the base of her neck, right where it slopes into her collarbone. Her hand starts to fumble at my belt-buckle, and then she’s pushing her hand inside and wrapping her fingers around my cock.

 

“Hell of a protest you’re putting on here, Red.” I groan into her neck, letting my own hand slip down to her skirt. I slide my hand up under it, and suddenly pull away to stare at her with shocked amusement; “Is little Miss Reagan Archer
not
wearing panties?”

 

She blushes, but it’s more of a hungry look than anything embarrassed; “I want you in the car ride home, after,” She purrs quietly in a way that makes my cock throb in her hand; “I thought I’d make that easier.”

 

“Jesus who
are
you, woman, and what have you done with sweet little Reagan?” I grin, moving down to kiss her as I slide my fingers into her wetness. 

 

“I think it’s what
you
do to sweet little Reagan,” she husks sexily into my mouth, and I growl.

 

I push her back against the desk, sliding her up onto it and pushing between her thighs. She’s moaning and pulling my cock out of my fly, and I’m teasing against her opening. We’re kissing and gasping, and so into the moment that neither of us hear the door to her prep-room open, and it’s not until we hear it slam and Donald’s bellowing yell that we spring apart like we’ve just been shocked with a current. Reagan’s sliding off the desk and smoothing her skirt, her face bright red, and I’m stuffing my cock into my pants as I look at fucking
Donald
over my shoulder.

 

“Oh now
this
is fucking
perfect
isn’t it!” His face is bright red and puffing mad, and as I turn around to face him, he narrows his eyes at me; “Yeah, we’ve got
big
trouble now,
Hudson.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

 

P R E S E N T

 

There’s a ringing in my ears as I look around the room in slow-motion; like in the movies after some kind of explosions. But I suppose you could say a bomb has just gone off
here
too. Donald is sputtering something, and slowly, as the pulsing ring in my ears dies away, his shrieking words hit me.

 

“Oh now
this
is fucking perfect now isn’t it?” His face is contorted as he shakes his head, wagging his finger at me like I’m some misbehaving child; “
First
you go off script, and then you’re back here slumming it with this piece of trash! You’re going to
ruin
this whole thing for me,
Reagan!

 

I narrow my eyes at him; “For
you
, Donald? I’m sorry, remind me who’s campaign-”

 

“Oh,
save it
, honey. Do you know how many hands of trust fund brats I’ve held through first round elections? You think you’re special just because you’re playing kissy-face with this washout?” Hudson’s face goes dark, but Donald barrels right along; “I set things up with
Chet
, who tests
very
well with our voter base, and you’re going to
ruin that
with this schmuck! Jesus Christ, Reagan, why can’t you just follow the plans I fucking tell you to follow?!”

 

“Maybe because
you
work for
her
, and maybe because your plans
suck
, that’s why.” Hudson growls, taking a step towards him. 

 

Donald fumes as he whirls on Hudson; “
You
stay the hell out of this! I don’t need one of William Archer’s stupid little fucking pet projects stepping on my toes here. He should have left you in whatever third world pocket he found you in and let you rot; hell, he should have stayed there himself
.”

 

I can feel the rage explode out of me; “You do
not
talk about
him
OR my father like that, asshole!”

 

Donald whirls on me, his face red and puffing as he shoves a piece of paper into my hands; “We’re going to fix this right now. Read
this
when you go out there, and say
only
this. I swear to God, you are
not
going to ruin this for me you spoiled little
bitch
!”

 

Hudson’s fist is already drawn back when he steps forward, but before he even gets close, I
slap
Donald
hard
across the face. 

 

He gasps and sputters, holding the red mark on his cheek and gaping at me; “Oh,
now
you’re going to regret that! I’m calling my attorney!”

 

“Be my guest,” I spit out; “Oh and, Donald, I think it might go without saying, but you’re fired.”

 

He sneers at me; “Read my contract,
babe
; you
can’t
fire me mid-run.”

 

Fuck
.

 

Hudson does step forward then, right in Donald’s face, and he glowering down on the smaller man; “And if the campaign can’t pay you?”

 

“Excuse me?” Donald huffs, taking a wary step back from Hudson.

 

“I said what if they can’t pay you. If the campaign goes broke, are you prepared to work for free?”

 

He sputters; “What? No, of
course
not! It’s
ridiculous
to think that I’d be willing to stick around this spoiled little brat without-”

 

“Excellent.” Hudson nods curtly, cutting him off. He takes his cell phone out and begins to type something before he turns to me. “Ms. Archer?” He winks at me with a big shit-eating grin on his face; “Romantic fraternization between political and private enterprise is unfortunately grounds for contractual liquidation under your agreement with our company.” His back is to Donald, and only I can see as he winks again and sticks his tongue out at me; “So, on behalf of Archer Holdings, I regret to inform you that we’ll be revoking your campaign funding, effective immediately.” He turns back to Donald; “I’d recommend
not
cashing your check this week; it’s going to bounce.”

 

Donald’s face goes a bright shade of crimson, and he opens his mouth as if to say something though words seem to fail him in that moment. He sputters something unintelligible out his piggy mouth before he whirls around and stomps out of the room.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

 

P R E S E N T

 

“You know as soon as he quits, I’m making sure the funds hit your campaign again, right?”

 

Reagan’s cheeks are flushed when she looks up at me; “Holy
shit
, I mean; wow.” She laughs nervously and then with more feeling, like she’s just shrugged a weight off her shoulders; “I should
not
have done that. I mean I
really
should not have done that! He’s probably going to try and sue you know.”

 

I grin; “I’m willing to bet he doesn’t know that quitting before his contract finishes voids it entirely, so fuck him; I’ll have your father’s lawyers eat him
alive
.”

 

She’s staring at me with stars in her eyes and her whole face smiling, and I can’t help but smile right back; that’s just the effect she has on me; “Hudson, I l-”

 

The door bursts open and a harried and winded looking campaign intern with a clipboard barges into the room; “Ms. Archer! You need to follow me
right
now; you’re on stage in three minutes!”

 

Well shit, hows that for perfect timing, 

 

She nods at the kid but whirls back to me; “Will you watch it?”

 

“Oh, what is it we’re here for? Some sort of telethon? Are you raising money for PBS?” I grin at her as she makes a face at me; “I was actually thinking about heading across the street to that bar and catching the rest of the game or something.”

 

She rolls her eyes; “Hudson, you are the most infuriati-”

 

“Reagan,” I grab her hand and squeeze it. There’s so much I want to tell her; so much I
need
to tell her. But she’s about to go on fucking television for this speech, so instead I just wink at her; “Of course I’ll watch it.”

 

And I do, and it’s
incredible
;
she’s
incredible.

 

There’s none of Donald’s bullshit middle of the road crap this time; she speaks the truth and she speaks from the heart. She talks about corruption and government kickbacks, and the lack of oversight. She names names, and calls people out
right there
on television, and it’s fucking amazing. She’s bold and she’s fearless, and once they pull their jaws off the ground, the people there go fucking
nuts
.

 

“Ms. Archer!” A woman with a microphone calls out from the crowd of screaming reporters as Reagan prepares to take questions; “You really just came out swinging in that speech, which isn’t quite a side of you we’ve seen yet. You’re already ahead in the polls; what brought this on?”

 

Reagan smiles and nods her head; “Because a dear friend recently taught me that the things you care about are the things worth fighting to be heard about.”

 

There are a million more questions, but one guy towards the front is screaming louder than the rest; “Ms. Archer! Ms. Archer! We’re hearing reports from your very own campaign manager about some sort of alleged illicit relationship between yourself and an
employee
of Archer Holdings, your primary campaign financier. Some sort of ex-Army guy?”

 

The screaming crowd of journalists actually goes quiet, hanging on the silence as Reagan’s face freezes, and I feel my whole heart skip a beat. But then she’s turning to look right at me in the wings off-stage, and she’s grinning that perfect smile that just slays me every time. She nods at me, her eyes sparkling, and then she’s beckoning to me, and waving me on stage. I give her a quizzical look, but she rolls her eyes and beckons me again before turning back to the gathered reporters again with a smirk on her face; “He’s a Marine, actually, and I wouldn’t exactly call being in love an ‘illicit affair’.”

 

I’m staring at her like we’re both crazy as I walk on the stage, right into the limelight and the camera flashes and the screaming questions. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Archer?” I murmur as the crowd of reporters begin to scream and hurl questions at us.

 

She grins; “Which part?”

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