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Authors: Megan Morgan

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BOOK: The Burning City
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“I can just imagine the attention we’d get if we did. No thanks.” She stepped closer to him. “How come all your helpers are women, huh?”

He grabbed her around the waist, spread his legs, and pulled her against him. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

She huffed, draping her arms over his shoulders.

“My personal trainer was a man. So is my accountant.”

“Do you do anything for yourself, Daddy Warbucks?”

He titled his head. “Hmm…no. I mean, there was even that busty blond model who used to give me my baths.”

She pinched a nipple through his shirt. “Your sense of humor is coming back. That’s good.” He hadn’t been quite as snarky since Muse’s death.

“I’m not really into busty blondes.” He squeezed her ass. “I like tattooed, pierced, small-breasted women.”

“Which reminds me.” She bent her arms around behind her and struggled to undo the clasp on her bra. “I never wear these things. I don’t know how they work. I’m a useless female.”

“Allow me. I’m an expert.” He tugged the shoulders of her dress down.

Instead of undoing the bra through the dress or reaching under, he peeled the entire top of the dress down to her waist, revealing the black silk bra and all her ink, carefully hidden away lest it scandalize the public. He slid his arms around her and popped the clasp on the bra, his face close to hers, smiling.

“When is your assistant coming over?” she asked.

“Not for a few hours. She has to quit her job first.”

He pulled the bra down her arms, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know how gals like Cindy did it.

Sam tossed the bra on the floor and cupped her boobs. He wiggled the posts through her nipples, making her bite her lip.

She glanced at his phone on the counter. “Should we be doing this right now?” Surely he had a million more calls to make.

“There’s not a damn thing else to do in this house.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and getting to his feet, lifted her. She locked her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. This wasn’t the first time he’d picked her up like this, and each time it was a little less cheesy and a lot more hot.

He carried her to an adjacent room, a sunroom with a slanting glass roof and three windowed walls looking out on thick foliage. Dappled sunlight filled the room. He walked her over to a wooden-framed couch with mint green cushions and deposited her on it. The cushions were soft, but a cloud of dust billowed up.

June coughed, waving her hand.

“How romantic.” Sam waved his arm as well. “Am I impressing you yet?”

She didn’t care about the house. She was more impressed with other things. “You better go grab your bag.”

He left the room. While he was gone, she sat up and slapped the cushions, getting more dust out of them.

Sam returned with his duffel bag, dropped it next to the couch, and crawled on top of her. She undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

He wiggled the dress off over her hips. She was glad to get out of it too. She had black panties on underneath.

“Now you can get on birth control.” He tossed the dress on the floor. “Make this much easier.” He pressed his hand over the crotch of her panties.

She opened her thighs. “Probably could have before now, but I wasn’t asking Aaron to send a gynecologist over.”

He tugged her panties aside and stroked his fingers up her slit, watching her face. “My, aren’t we excited?”

She was.

She popped the button on his pants and gripped his firm cock through them. “Likewise. Maybe I like you in your natural environment.”

“I was hoping you would.”

He pushed a finger into her, and she clenched around it with a soft gasp. He gently massaged her piercing with his thumb. He was getting good at manipulating that thing. She’d taught him well.

He kissed her, and then ducked his head, bit gently at a nipple, and flicked the post through it with his tongue. He was getting good with those too.

She stared through the ceiling at the leaves, the sunlight glittering between them. Everything was so quiet, and his finger made sloppy wet sounds inside her. They hadn’t fooled around much lately, given the FBI were nearly constantly in the room with them.

Sam sat up and opened his pants, his cock pushing his underwear out. He then tugged her panties down and off.

“At last, I have you naked in my house.” He tossed the panties over his shoulder.

“And look at you, just sitting there with your clothes still on like a chump.”

He peeled his unbuttoned shirt off. She admired his broad chest, his thick biceps, the flat plane of his stomach, and that delicious hip V. He could get back to working out before he lost any of it.

He tossed his shirt aside but didn’t finish undressing. Instead, he pushed her knees back and buried his face between her legs.

She gripped a handful of his hair and pushed her hips up to the heat of his mouth, to the soft, wet probing of his tongue. He pushed two fingers into her this time and worked them harder and deeper. She dug her heels into his back, curling her toes.

“Oh, shit.” She gripped his hair tighter, pulling. “Sam, fuck.”

She craved more than his fingers inside her. They were nice, but she wanted to be fucked. After a minute, she pushed at the top of his head, her feet on his shoulders.

He lifted his head, his fingers still inside her, chin glistening. “Want me to stop? We’ve actually got plenty of time for foreplay, for once.”

“We do. But right now, all I want to do is bang. Grab a condom.”

He slipped his fingers out of her. “As my lady commands.” He practically fell off the couch reaching for his duffel bag.

“Not that I wasn’t enjoying that. You’re wonderful.”

“I know.”

He pulled a condom out of the duffel bag, stood, and worked his pants and underwear off. She admired the rest of his toned body, and of course, his magnificently thick, currently rock hard cock. She rolled over on her stomach.

“Oh, like that, huh?” The condom wrapper crinkled.

As Sam knelt behind her, she crawled forward and propped her arms on the wooden arm of the couch. She spread her legs, dipping her back, ass in the air. She looked over her shoulder, her hair coming out of the pins and sliding across her back.

“Yes,” she said, “like this.”

She caught the faint scent of latex. She’d had him bare a few times, at first, when they were too full of hormones and too dumb to wait for protection. She wanted to feel that again. Soon, their lives might be in some sort of order and she could.

He gripped her hips and she closed her eyes, tense with expectation.

“I like you like this,” he murmured. “All turned on and dirty.” He caressed her back. In his other hand, he gripped his cock and pressed it against her.

“Oh, yeah,” she gasped. “Put it in.”

He slid into her with one smooth stroke, filling her up, the pressure so good it bordered on pain. He settled in deep, bringing his hips flush against hers.

She moaned, loud and full-throated, dropping her head on her arms. She squeezed around his length, loving being crammed full of it.

“Better now?” He rubbed her quivering thigh.

“No.” She pushed back against him. “Fuck me.”

And bless his beautiful cock, he did. He thrust into her, rocking her on her knees and making her clutch the arm of the couch for support. She moaned—hell, she screamed. He smacked her ass, firm and stinging, and even though it was totally a porn move, she loved it.

He leaned over her back and tucked his hand beneath her. “That what you wanted?” His voice was husky and dark. He pressed his fingertips to her ring and rubbed.

“Oh my God, yes.” She reached down, dropping her head against the cushion, and slid her hand over his. “Sam, Sam…”

He fucked her deep and slow now. She tangled her fingers with his, helping him rub. She tightened around him, on the brink.

He rolled his hips, his muscles trembling and skin slick. He was close too. She ached to feel his release, to experience again when he filled her with it and it trickled down her thighs. So dirty and scandalous.

“I want you to come,” he said. “Right on my cock.”

She clenched her teeth, whining through them, eyes squeezed shut.

“Come on,” he urged. “You need to come. I can feel it.”

She almost wanted to draw the pleasure out, make it go on forever. But she couldn’t hold back, not with him thrusting so deep inside her, not with both their fingers working her. Not with those words rolling off his tongue.

She pressed her face into the cushion and shrieked as the orgasm rocked her. Her entire body convulsed. She clenched around him, nearly pushing him out with the force of her contractions.

“Jesus,” he groaned. “There you go.”

He thrust harder. She continued shuddering, still coming, his pistoning cock drawing it out. She clamped his hand against her, too sensitive for more rubbing. Their fingers were soaked.

He pounded faster. She screamed against the cushion. She couldn’t take much more, but he didn’t last long.

“Fuck!” He pulled his hand from between her legs and gripped her hips, his wet fingers slipping on her skin. He buried himself inside her and snarled.

His cock throbbed, jerking and twitching in her still-clenching passage. He massaged her hips and ass roughly, rocking against her as he emptied into the condom. Her head was spinning so much her ears rang. She bit the cushion.

She was sore and soaked and buzzing and wholly, wonderfully satisfied.

He pulled out of her, and for a few minutes they lay spooned, June facing the back of the couch. She couldn’t find words. She couldn’t even think words.

Eventually, she groaned and rolled her head back against his shoulder. “Oh, man. God. Thank you.”

He chuckled and patted her hip.

“Fuck, I’m starving.” She rubbed her face. “And dying of thirst.”

“We can actually order out now, you realize. I could have something delivered. Cindy gave me some cash earlier until I could get access to my bank account.”

June gripped his hand and pulled it to her mouth. She kissed his knuckles. His fingers tasted like her.

“Wonderful.” Her thighs were slick. Her insides throbbed. “I guess if your assistant doesn’t show up for a while, we’ll have to continue finding ways to pass the time.”

“Give me like a half hour,” he murmured against her neck. “I’ll keep you occupied.”

 

Chapter 6

 

By late afternoon, the silence of the house was shattered. The FBI security detail showed up first. Supposedly, they would be there only a few weeks until everything calmed down. June couldn’t imagine anything calming down ever, especially now that Sam had thrown his hat back in the political ring; indeed, when the detail arrived, they informed them reporters and onlookers were already out on the street.

“This is your fault,” June told Sam. “Why on earth would you want more publicity?”

“Publicity is my lifeblood. You’d better get used to it.”

“You’re lucky you’re good in bed.”

Sam’s assistant arrived next, a young, black woman named Natalie. She was beautiful and had long tightly wound braids. She clung to Sam, crying.

“I knew you were innocent,” she sobbed against his shoulder. “I never gave up hope.”

He patted her back. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

June sat at the counter, picking at the remnants of the salad she’d ordered, eyeing them.

Sam introduced them, but Natalie already knew who June was. She shook June’s hand in both of hers.

“It’s good to meet you,” June said. “I think Sam needs all the help he can get right now.”

“I’m so happy to be back,” Natalie said. “God, I hated that office job. I love your ink, by the way.” She rolled up the sleeve of her blouse to show off some intricate black artwork.

June had changed into a tank top and jeans. She held her arms out. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Natalie.”

Cindy arrived shortly after, while Sam and Natalie were sorting through bins.

“They took my gun at the gate, Sam!” She slammed grocery bags down on the counter. “I have a license for that. You go down there and tell them to give it back!”

Sam sighed. “I need to talk to them about who’s allowed in and with what. It’s on my to-do list, okay? Right after I get the fucking lights and water turned back on.”

June walked over to Cindy. “Is there more in the car? I’ll help you.”

Cindy placed a hand in the middle of June’s chest. “You stay here. I have a surprise for you.” She turned, her stormy expression replaced with delight. “Natalie! Oh my God, I haven’t seen you in forever.”

They embraced while June worried about her “surprise.”

Cindy returned to the car, and June waited in the living room on the couch. When Cindy came back, June gasped and jumped to her feet.

“Is that…who I think it is?”

Cindy plunked an animal carrier down on the floor. “You betcha!” She opened the door on it.

Dipity peeked out, wide-eyed.

June knelt and made grabby hands at her. “Dipster! It’s me. It’s June.”

Dipity gazed at her, slinking back. Then, she seemed to recognize June, though it had been months. The tortoiseshell cat streaked out of the carrier and over to her.

June scooped her up in her arms. She petted her, and the cat purred voraciously. June toppled over onto the rug in glee, and Dipity climbed on top of her and began kneading her stomach, purring like a jet engine.

Cindy laughed. “She remembers you.”

“She better remember me; she saved my life.”

“Oh, God.” Sam stood in the doorway. “You brought it over here.”

Dipity climbed all over June.

“June.” Cindy towered over her. “I know these past six months have been probably the hardest in your life. You deserve something good.”

Dipity walked through June’s hair, which was spread out on the carpet. Claiming every part of her.

“So”—Cindy took a deep breath—“as much as I’ll miss her, I think you have a much deeper connection with her. I think she’d like to come live with you.”

June gasped. “Really?”

“Whoa,” Sam yelped. “Wait a minute!”

Dipity walked over June’s chest and settled there in a vibrating loaf.

BOOK: The Burning City
6.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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