Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance (13 page)

“Well then
what
is your problem? If I were you, I’d be going around
looking
for trouble just so I could watch him come save me.”

I roll my eyes.
My problem is I’ve SLEPT with him, and now his dad is about to marry my mom.

But of course, Jess doesn’t know that. I love my my friend, but let's just say when someone like
my
mother tells you, “Hey, I’m getting married soon but no one knows yet because it could disrupt national politics, so don’t tell anyone”, well, Jessica Baron is probably the last person on Earth you tell, friend or not. Suffice to say, she doesn’t need to know the finer details.

“Well listen mopey, I’m done shooting in L.A. on Friday, you know. I could be in D.C. and getting you into some trouble by midnight.”

I grin. “Sounds like we’d make the evening news.”

“Oh, weekend edition for sure. ‘Wayward first daughter Adams arrested for indecent exposure in a moving vehicle along with fabulous and hot new fashion model best friend Jessica Baron.”

I snort.

“You
know
, in all honesty,” I can hear Jess’s grin through the phone as she clears her throat. “I could probably get us another invite, to another, uh,
party
like last time.”

“Jess!” My face goes bright red as I hiss into the phone.

“Oh,
what
, I just said ‘party’, nothing scandalous for your tall dark and handsome security detail to get all hot and bothered about. Honestly though-”

Yeah, ‘honestly though’, that damn party is what got me into this whole mess in the first place
, I want to yell into the phone.

“Jess, I don’t think the First Daughter is getting into one of those now,” I say, rolling my eyes as I stretch out across my bed. “That was risky before, but I think it’d be beyond scandalous now.”

“Okay
fine
. But you do need to get out and have some fun, you know.”

“No shit.”

“So how
is
it living in that place?”

“Like jail, but better decor.” I blush and grin. “Hotter security.”

Jessica hoots. 

I
want
to tell her, but I can’t. I can’t even tell her half truths about Hunter, even if I leave out the juicy parts because the
whole thing
is a big secret. The whole thing is one big dirty little secret.  

He’s
my dirty little secret, in every regard.

*****

“So what’s up with you, grumpy?”

I jerk my head around at the name to stare at Hunter, there in the back seat of the black Escalade.

He raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re the second person to say that today is all.”

He snickers. “There’s a lesson there for you, grumps.”

I smile sweetly at him. “Yeah, that I fucking
hate
being called ‘grumps’.”

He rolls his eyes as he shakes his head. “Relax; don’t get your panties in a twist, doll.”

“Kindly refrain from thinking of me
or
my panties.”

His lips pull back in a wicked grin. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m already thinking of you without them.”

I feel my face go bright red as I turn away from him and look out the tinted, bomb-proof window of the car. He chuckles behind me, and I scowl, hoping the false annoyance forces the
other
thoughts of him from my head as the city of D.C. rushes past.

We have “an agenda” today; today being one of those days where I can’t sulk around the White House and I actually have to play my First Daughter role. We’re on a media tour circuit today, something to do with my mother’s new clean energy initiative, which is why I find myself in the back of the the Escalade with the divider up, alone with Hunter Ryan.

And everything Jess said, everything she joked, or insinuated about me being pent up and needing to “get on her track” or whatever, is playing over and over again in my head as I sit there trying to be pissy at Hunter. 

I want to ignore him. I want to ignore the thoughts of the other day in the dark of that hallway, with the heat of him so close, bringing back every dirty, wicked memory of
that
night. I want to pretend I’ve put that night out of my head; that I’ve come to an agreement in my head about that being a one-time mistake. I’m telling myself that it was all a mistake; that it was
wrong
. And that it’s still  wrong for me to keep thinking of his hands, or his mouth, or,
God
, his
cock.
But I
can’t stop
.

If it’s so wrong, why do I keep thinking about it until I’m  squirming in my seat and biting my lip at the way the memories of him tug at something primal inside of me?

And why is it when I turn and see him looking at me — looking at me
like that
— that all I want to do is throw every notion and sense I have right out the window? Why is it that him looking at me like that, in that scandalous, dirty,
hungry
way, makes me want to pull up this formal skirt and let him have me right there, just like that look on his face says he wants to.

Just like
I
want him to.

He cocks an eyebrow at me as he grins. “What?”

I quickly look away, “Nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” He grins at me.

Goddamnit
, how does he
do
that? How does he always
know?

“You wear it on your face.”

I dart my eyes back to his. “Excuse me?”

Hunter moves towards me across the bench seat of the SUV, and I take a sharp breath as I scoot back against my door, but he’s right there, right in front of me. 

“When you’re thinking something dirty,” he says in a dark tone. “You wear it on your face.”

“I was
not
.”

“Liar. Your cheeks get all pink and you bite your lip in a way that I’ve gotta say, is much more tempting than maybe you want it to be.”

My pulse skips and I feel a breath catch in my throat at the directness of him; at the way he just cuts through the B.S. and makes me
feel
.

“So what were you thinking about.”

“I
told
you,
nothing.
”

“And I told you,
liar
. C’mon, tell me.”

I’m still chewing on my lip as I quickly dart my eyes towards the divider between us and the driver. 

Hunter grins, “Nope, just me listening.”

I shrug, like it’s nothing. “Doesn’t matter, I’m still not going to tell you.”

His grin cracks across his tanned jaw. “So you
were
thinking something naughty.”

Ugh, damn him.

“No, I mean —  I — ”

And suddenly he’s moving right against me, his arm sliding around the black leather headrest behind me, his other arm  pressing against the window next to me. My breath catches as he leans in close, his lips inches from my own, his eyes
searing
right into mine.

And I
want him
. I want him like I wanted the masked stranger, before we knew who we were. I
want
to give in to him right here. I want to kiss those lips, feel those big, masculine hands on my body, and feel him
take me
— dominant and demanding — like he did before.

“You were thinking something dirty, princess, and I’m willing to bet if I reached up under this skirt right now—” I gasp as I feel his hand on my knee, and when he slides it higher, his fingers
just
sliding under the hem of my skirt, I let out a small whimper.

“I’m betting I’d find you
soaking wet
for me, wouldn’t I,” he growls into my ear, and it takes everything I have to stifle the moan that threatens to tumble from my lips.

“Mm-mm, nope,” I whisper out, quickly shaking my head.

It’s a lie; a
damn
big one. I am, in fact,
dripping
wet for him, my body yearning and craving his touch. Hunter’s hand moves higher; he’s pushing my knees apart in the backseat of the Presidential SUV as his hand slides higher, higher towards my molten heat.

And when his fingers graze the front of my panties, I
do
moan; I moan at the feel of his fingers stroking my pussy through the soaking wet fabric, but also at the look of
triumph
on his face as he grins. 

“Liar, liar,” he growls, and I moan again as his deft fingers push my panties to the side and stroke a digit across my naked lips.

“So, you going to tell me exactly what you were thinking about or am I going to have to coax it out of you?” 

I gasp as he presses a finger against my opening, and when he slides it easily inside, I’m whimpering as my fingers clutch at the sleeve of his suit jacket. 

Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m in the backseat of a
Presidential
motorcade car, about twenty feet behind the identical one carrying the President of the United States — my
mother
— and I’m here moaning, willingly opening my legs for my cocky, domineering bodyguard. 

My stepbrother.

How the fuck did I let things get back to this place? How come I can’t say no to him?

Hunter curls his finger up against that sweet spot inside, and I moan — much louder than I should — as he draws me back out of myself and into the here and now. 

“We— This— I mean—” I whimper out, knowing I’m not making any sense whatsoever.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He growls, chuckling into my ear, sliding his finger deep into my clenching pussy as mewling sounds drip from my lips and I clutch at his sleeve. 

He pulls back from my ear and I’m gasping as his lips sear across my own, hard enough to bruise, but I just don’t care. And then it’s
Hunter
that has my tongue, his sliding between my lips to wrestle with my own as I moan into his mouth.

His finger is working magic between my legs, and when his thumb begins to lazily circle my clit, I can already feel myself start to shatter to pieces. I’m close; so close to
coming
in the backseat of the damned SUV.

“So is
this
how you touched yourself the other night?” he says darkly, curling his fingers for emphasis as he pulls back from my lips.

I suck in a breath of air and shake my head side to side, denying it to the bitter end.

He
smirks
, the look both cocky and arrogant, and also toe-curlingly sexy at the same time.  Literally, my toes are curling right then in my modest nude pumps while I very
immodestly
spread my legs and let him push me right to the edge of climax. 

“Well, by all means, I’d love to see how
you
do it, doll.”

It’s useless to deny it; he
knows
. Somehow, the cocky prick
knows
anyways, and he’s teasing me for it.

And it’s
maddening.

I’m
so close
, so close to biting my hand between my teeth and exploding under his fingers; I’m so close to coming for him.

And that’s when the car jerks to a stop.

Hunter grins a
knowing
little smirk at me as he suddenly withdraws his fingers from between my lips. I’m gasping for breath,
just
shy of being pushed over that edge. I watch him wide-eyed as he casually
licks
his fingers.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait until you can show me how
you
do it, princess,” he says with that damned wicked little grin on his face.

Damn him.
It’s like he knew exactly where we were on the drive and timed it all
exactly
so that he’d leave me like this — clawing at the edges of sanity with my body practically trembling for release. The hell with that, he probably
did
know exactly where we were, the little shit.

I’m still gasping for air, my face bright red and my hair wild while I just
stare
daggers at him when the car shuts off.

Hunter grins and he takes one more lick of his finger. “Better cover up, sweet-stuff.”

“You
fucking asshole
,” I’m hissing at him as I snap out of my daze and quickly yank my skirt down and into place
just
as another agent comes to the door and opens it for me. And then I’m taking a deep breath, and praying to
God
the man can’t fucking
smell
what just happened in the back of that SUV as I step out and into the flash of news cameras and screaming reporters.

I glance back to see Hunter wagging his eyebrows and just
grinning away
at me as he blows me an air-kiss. 

“We’re not fucking done, you prick,” I hiss as he joins me outside the car and starts to lead me towards the door to the media expo with his hand at the small of my back.

“Oh, believe me, princess,” he growls into my ear as he leans forward under the pretense of opening the glass door for me. “We’re certainly not done.”