Thief: A Bad Boy Romance (29 page)

“It was nothing special.”

“Sure it wasn’t.” I press against her, knowing she can feel how hard I am. I’m dying to feel how wet she is, because I
know
she is because of that flush in her cheeks and that catch in her breath. The way her eyes are so wide as they stare into mine in the dim of the room. We’re a breath apart, her soft mouth so close I could claim it with my own in a millisecond. “I’m willing to bet it was so good that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, actually.”

“I’ve forgotten about it entirely, actually,” she says softly.

“Uh-huh, I doubt that.”

“Doubt all you want, I can’t even remember it.”

“I could jog your memory if you want me to,” I growl, watching her gasp. I press harder against her, my hands gripping her ass and feeling the way her hips undulate towards me; the way she presses hotly into the thick bulge in my pants.

She might be in this conservative fucking pants suit, but I know I can feel the heat there between her legs on my thigh. I lean forward again into her neck, my lips barely grazing over the skin of her collarbone as one of my hands slides up from her ass and starts to slide around, pulling the scoop-neck shirt out of her pants.

“What are you-”

“Making you remember,” I growl into her ear, before I take the lobe between my lips and suck.

And
there’s
the moan I’ve been dying to hear.

She
melts
against me as I nip her ear, her hands clutching me tightly against her, her hips rocking ever so slightly against me, as if urging me on. I’m in the Secret fucking Service, and I’m sworn to
protect
those under my watch, not
dry-hump
them in dark museums. I briefly wonder if doing this constitutes treason, and besides that, there’s the
lingering
fact that this is my soon-to-be stepsister.

Yeah, I might be fucking up
hard
here, but there’s no Goddamn way I’m stopping right now; not with that moan echoing in my brain.

I
feel
my heart pounding inside my breast, the blood roaring hot in my face. It’s like I can’t speak as I find myself staring wide-eyed up into those sharp blue eyes, somehow piercing even in the darkness of the room. Of course, even if I could, I don’t even know what I
would
say.

And so I say nothing when I feel his hand slide over my hip and across the waist of my pants, tugging at my shirt. I bite my lip, if only to hold back the moan in my throat when his fingers find the button at the front and deftly pop it open. And when he slips his hand under the material, and traces over the edge of my panties, all I can do is let myself fall into him.

His hand slides over the front of my panties, and I moan. His fingers find me soaking wet through the fabric as he teases my lips, and I whimper as he starts to rub me, my hands clutching at his suit and my mouth hanging open as I cling to him.

“Fuck, Hunter-”

“How’s that memory working now?” He says darkly into my ear, making me shiver against him as his fingers work in slow circles over my panties.

“It’s-”

“How about now?”

I moan out loud as his fingers push my panties to the side and slide over my pussy. And then I’m yanking him down and into me, and whimpering as I feel his lips crush against my own. His hand comes up from my ass to cup my jaw as he pushes me hard against the statue behind us. Fingers push into my hair, pulling me tightly against his lips as he growls into my mouth and slides his tongue against mine.

I moan again as his finger slides wetly against my opening and pushes inside,  shamelessly rocking my hips against him as it curls deep inside me.

And I know how bad this is. I know how horribly off-limits this is and how past the line we’re moving. Not to mention what would happen if we got caught like this.

Scandal on the highest level, a national affair that would
ruin
our lives. A dirty little secret that would be written about in fucking
history
books.

I don’t know what strings he pulled to get us here, but something tells me he’s past the line of what he should be doing by being in here
only
with me and not a whole group of agents. And that in itself just makes me think the chances of getting caught are even higher.

The danger is even more present, but for some reason, I’ve never been more wet and more turned on.

His finger curls against that sweet spot just inside, his thumb brushing over my clit and I moan into his mouth. I can feel his cock throbbing against me through his pants, and knowing he’s so hard and ready has my blood pounding in my chest.

I
want
him to
take me
, like he did before. I want him fuck me hard and rough. I want him to claim my body and make me melt into a puddle for him again.

Here in the dark of the museum, I want him to tear this ridiculous pants suit off my body, bend me over the half-wrapped statue behind me, and
fuck
me the way he did in that sex club.

The thought of it brings another whimper to my throat, and this time, he pulls away from my mouth with that grin on his face.

That
arrogant
fucking grin.

“I knew you’d beg for it,” he husks into my ear, making me furious despite the shiver slithering through me at the same time.

The smug, egotistical look on his face has me fuming, but the finger stroking my pussy has me rolling my hips against him, doing everything I can to hold back the moan on the verge of  tumbling from my lips.

“Dream on,” I manage to gasp out, my eyes fluttering shut as his thumb rubs slow circles around my clit.

“Oh fight it all you want, doll,” he whispers against my ear, making me moan. “But you’ll beg me to let you come.”

My eyes flutter shut again as he strokes my clit, whimpering at his hands and the coarse way he’s talking to me.

“Not a fucking
chance
,” I mumble out, feeling my body melt against him.

And deep down, I know he’s right. Deep down, I know that no matter how hard I fight it or how much I lie through my teeth, if he keeps this up I’ll do and say anything for him to make me come. I want to deny it, and I hate my body for being so traitorous, but it’s true; I want him like I did that night.

And he damn well knows it.

“You will.” His lips graze my ear again as he reaches up, takes my hand, and starts to bring it down. “And when you do,” I moan as he brings my hand down to the bulge at the front of his suit, letting me feel every thick inch of him. “It’ll be with every inch of my cock inside of you.”

Oh, fuck.

“Just tell me you want it, princess.”

I shake my head, feeling my body start to fall over the edge as his fingers stroke in and out of me and his thumb circles my clit. “Uh-uh, nope, not even a little bi-”

There’s the sudden burst of static from a radio from somewhere down the hallway, and we both freeze.

“Roger that, checking the far hallway. B-team prepare for breech.”

Oh my God.

And then we’re both scrambling, jolted immediately into the now at the sound of the agent’s voice. I’m gasping as I rush to fix my pants and stuff my blouse back in.

I jump back from Hunter
just
as the sound of footsteps round the corner, and suddenly the lights are on and flooding the room, bathing the scene of the crime in light.

“Agent Ryan!” The man’s face is neutral but he does
not
sound pleased. He sets his jaw as he narrows his eyes at Hunter. “Agent,
where
is your-” His eyes land on the earpiece dangling from Hunter’s collar instead of in his ear where it should be, and suddenly he’s marching right over to us. “Jesus
Christ
, Ryan,” he mutters, his face suddenly livid as gets right in Hunter’s face as if I’m not standing right there.

Three other agents suddenly come around the corner and hang by the doorway giving muted directions on walkie-talkies as the first man glares at Hunter.

“Do you have any idea how close I just came to shutting this whole Goddamn city down when you didn’t respond? What the
hell
were you doing back here? You’re supposed to be
watching
her-”

“He was, agent,” I say, quickly jutting in. “I was a little eager to see the Etruscan marble works, and I tripped on this one in the dark. Agent Ryan was just helping me up when you came in, and I must have knocked his earpiece out when I fell.” I smile as sweetly as I can, suddenly wondering if Secret Service agents are trained to know a lie when they see it.

Probably.

But I brush that thought away and hold his gaze, even ignoring Hunter when he grins at me over the man’s shoulder and gives an “O.K.” sign.

“Agent Ryan didn’t even want me to come in here, but I was being stubborn, and I knew that the wing was closed off
anyways
so I didn’t think it’d be a problem.”

The older agent’s face is back to neutral as he stiffly holds my gaze. “You shouldn’t go off schedule and off a planned route like this, Ms. Adams.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

The man seems satisfied with my answer, but then he turns to Hunter and gets in his face again.

“Just because the rest of the force hasn’t been made aware of your
impending situation
, don’t think for a second that I’d keep you on the force after a stunt like this if you weren’t as
connected
, shall we say, to the President.” He clears his throat as he turns to the other three by the door. “Let's get moving.” He turns back to Hunter. “Do your damn
job
, agent.”

“
O
h my
God
, I can’t believe I’m talking to someone
inside
the White House!”

I grin and roll my eyes. “Oh, yeah, Jess, did I mention my mom was running for President? I thought maybe you’d seen something about it on local news or something.”

“Cute, very cute,” my friend says with a laugh over the phone. “So, how is it?”

“Big? White?” I shrug. “Boring, unexciting.” I hope the last part I say is convincing enough as I try to shove the memory of Hunter’s body pressed against mine and the wonderful and illicit thrill that rushed through me the other day in the secret hallway, or in the museum the day before.

“Oh, and bugged; this call is most likely being recorded, by the way.”

Yeah, my cell phone? Gone. Now I’ve got a special one that routes directly through some sort of internal server, so they can monitor it for threats or something. Remember how I said this was a place where it was impossible to keep secrets in? Big brother is very much watching.

Eww, phrasing
.

“
Ooo
, spooky,” Jessica says dramatically on the other end of the phone. “Hello, C.I.A.!” She says with a  laugh.

“Secret Service.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the Secret Service listening, well, potentially listening; not the C.I.A.”

“Oh I
see
,” Jess snorts. “And are they
servicing
you, miss White House?”

I can feel my cheeks get hot as my thoughts instantly go the day before at the museum, even though of course she’s just teasing me and isn’t actually insinuating anything. But of course, thinking of Hunter only gets me flustered.

No, wrong. Get that out of your head.
There’s a moment of gripping panic and fear, as if the phone tap can somehow read my terrible thoughts as well, even though I’m ninety-nine percent positive that’s not a thing.

It’s not, right?

I force the thought of Hunter’s wicked grin and smirking, blue eyes out of my head.

“Jess, you have a one-track mind, you know,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“So? It’s a good track, Mads, you should try it sometime.” She snorts. “
Actually
, I believe you
did
try it out after I finally got you to come with me that night. And if that freaking
glow
was any indication when I saw you later, I’d say you thought it was a pretty good track t-”

“
Jess!
” I hiss, panic shooting through me. “The phone? Other ears? Remember?”

“Right, right, sorry.” She snickers. “Wouldn’t want to excite those poor, hot, uniformed, Secret Service guys.”

Stop thinking about Hunter in uniform; just stop it.

“Hah, yeah, right.”

I can hear my friend sigh over the phone. “Okay, spill, what is it.”

“Hmm? What’s what?”

“Dude, I know you. You’re moping about something, so spill it.”

Busted
.

“It’s- it’s nothing, really. It’s just this place; being all cooped up here.”

“Well, get out there and have some fun!”

“Yeah, I
can’t
, that’s the problem. First daughter, national security risk, armed guard, watchful eyes; ringing any bells?”

“Well bite my head off, grumpy.”

“Sorry,” I mumble. “It’s just between the cabin fever of this place, and Hunter basically being my shadow all day, I’m just-”

“Um, let’s talk about this
Hunter
character.”

Let’s not and say we never did?

I can
hear
Jess lingering and hanging on for an answer on the other end. “
Well?
”

“Well nothing, he’s my Secret Service guy.”

“Oh
that
guy?” I freeze. “The tall dark and
sexy
standing behind you in those pictures from your mom's front-lawn gala night?”

“Um, maybe?”

Jessica sighs exasperatedly. “Dude, the guy dressed like a Secret Service agent with the earpiece thingy and everything with his hand on your back helping your through the crowd.”

“Oh,” I say quickly. “Yeah, I guess that was Hunter.”

She whistles. “
Daaaamn
, girl!
That’s
the guy you get to have following you around all the time?”

I frown. “
Yes
, Jess, that’s Hunter.”

“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.

* * *

“
S
o 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.