Thief: A Bad Boy Romance (41 page)

W
ithout 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.

But she might.

* * *

“
Y
ou’re jealous
, aren’t you?

Maddie gasps as she jerks her head up to see me crouched on the edge of the pool, where she’s just come up from her lap. Yeah, like I said, the White House has a pool in the basement.

“
What?
” She sputters, pushing her hair back and wiping the water from her eyes.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s kind of adorable how mad you got, but that
is
it, right?”

She shakes her head, “Get over yourself, I am no such thing.”

She reaches for the handrail to the ladder and starts to pull herself out of the pool.

“Sure you are, it’s obvious.”

She steps up the ladder and out of the pool, and my jaw drops just little bit. She’s dripping wet, and she’s wearing this hot, black bikini.

Jesus, talk about a scandal:
“President’s Sexy as Sin Hot Daughter Caught Giving Heart Attacks In World’s Skimpiest Bikini: Hottest Thing To Ever Happen At The White House?”

I’m aching my brow at her, freely letting my eyes roam over her body as she goes red and rolls her eyes before she snatches the towel out of my hand.

“What do you
want
, Hunter?”

“Oh, me?” I grin, “Nothing, I just wanted to let you know I’d figured out your little possessive jealousy problem.”

“You are
such
an ass,” she mutters, pushing past me as she wraps the towel around her body. She shoves the door to the women’s changing room open and waltzes inside. I start to follow before she jerks her head around and glares at me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not done talking with you.”

She sighs heavily. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Not anymore, remember?”

She rolls her eyes, “How about a
fiancé
to attend to?”

I grin broadly. “And here I was thinking you weren’t jealous.”

“I’m not
jealous,
you ass, I’m just allergic to douchebags.” She marches into the locker room, and I follow.

“I’m going into the steam room, so fuck off, okay?” She says, storming away from me once we’re inside. She’s heading for the glass door of the sauna. I shrug and start to unbutton my shirt and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh my God, you’re incorrigible.”

I strip all the way down to my briefs, fully aware that little miss wants-nothing-to-do-with-me is standing there watching me the whole time. I look up and wink at her as I start to pull on my boxer briefs just to get a rise out of her. Which of course, works; she makes this
huffing
sound and whirls to the sauna.

I follow.

It’s hot, and the air is thick as we sit on the wooden benches inside. “So, that’s it then?”

“What are you talking about?” She spits out, sitting on the far side of the bench away from me, which is almost a cute gesture considering the whole room is hardly bigger than a bathroom.

“I’m talking about you being jealous.”

“Hunter,” she says, leveling her eyes at me, “I am
not
.”

“She’s an ex.”

“
I don’t care
. I’m not jealous.”

I grin as I start to slide towards her on the bench, seeing her stiffen and tug the towel tighter around herself.

“Sure you aren’t,” I say, moving closer. “The idea of me fucking someone else doesn’t get you…” I trail off as I see the spark in her smoldering green eyes. I grin widely, “I like you mad.”

“I’m
not
mad,” she hisses out.

“It’s sexy.”

“I am
not
mad!”

Yeah, she’s mad.
I can see it rippling there beneath the surface, see it flaring up in her eyes as she glares at me, and see it in the way her chest flushes pink and how she grips the towel tight across her wet, practically naked body.

I move even closer, “I like you fired up.”

“I’m n—”

“Right. Not mad,” I say lowly, cutting her off as I reach up to push a strand of wet hair behind her ear. I let my other hand rest on her bare knee, and I watch her eyes flutter for a moment as she sharply takes in a breath of air. I let my hand trail higher to the edge of her towel, and she
whimpers
.

“I’m not
fired up
,” she gasps in a whisper.

I push my hand right under her towel, and she’s subtly opening her legs, letting my fingers wander all the way up until I find the soaking wet heat of her pussy through her bikini bottoms. I growl as I stroke my fingers across her, seeing her body shudder with a halted breath as the flush spreads across her chest and face.

“I beg to differ,” I say, pushing her suit to the side and letting two fingers spread her open as I trail a third across her opening. “You’re so wet for me.”