“You need to go to college. You aren’t getting married.”
And that was why I decided my dream about marrying Meg might just be that—a dream.Once she finds out you were planning on screwing her over, she was going to dump you anyway. This always had an end date.
But maybe not…
I still clung to the shred of hope that after all this time—all the waiting, the fighting—was just part of our epic love story.
After all, we still hadn’t heard anything from Remy or Crawford and maybe never would. If Crawford had rescued our sisters, he would be gloating about it to Greg. Not that I didn’t want my sisters rescued, but if Crawford failed, we would find another way, and I would still have Meg.
* * *
She was working alonein her campaign office when I walked up later that evening.
“Here to make my dreams a reality?” she quipped, standing up when I appeared in the doorway. I wrapped my arms around her, sinking into the smell of her, the soft feel of holding her.
“You’re already my dream,” I told her honestly. “Being with you is all I ever wanted—that and to fuck you in your campaign office.”
“We can’t do it here!” she said, sounding horrified, though I could see by her slightly dilated eyes and breathy tone that a part of her was secretly turned on.
“It’s late,” I reminded her, kissing her neck. “No one’s around.” I switched off the light. “Just you and me.” I pressed kisses along the back of her neck. I could feel her resolve crumble. It was all in the way she arched back against me, the little sounds she made. “Someone can come into the office at any time.”
That was a token protest if I had ever heard one before. I reached up to cup her breasts in my hands, massaging them in slow circles. “We would hear someone coming,” I promised. Then I turned her to the window. The lights were off, but I could still see the reflection of our shadows there. “We’ll keep a lookout, see?”
“This is such a bad idea,” she moaned. Which meant that she was an inch from giving in.
I slipped my hand up her shirt and bra. She arched back against me, her bottom rubbing seductively against my growing erection.
“It’s a great idea. I’m full of them.”
She huffed a laugh. “That’s a lie if I ever heard one.”
“You want me to fuck you over this desk.”
She laughed again. “I thought you would never ask.”
“Turn around,” I said roughly, and when she did, I slipped my hand out of her shirt and fell to my knees in front of her. I felt like a damn supplicant in front of a goddess. And to judge by her suddenly wicked grin, my goddess was pleased.
She wanted quick, but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn who saw us. All I cared about was this woman—making her come. Making her mine.
Her suit came off easily, and within a few moments, she was leaning back, hitched up on the edge of the desk, and I was opening her thighs.
Her pussy, already wet, made my dick sit up and take notice. Something funny happened in my heart, too, but I chose to ignore it. Instead, I pressed kisses to the inside of her thigh, parted her slick pink slit, and pressed a kiss inside there too.
“Hunter…” she gasped, leaning back to give me more angle to work with. Her free hand came to rest in my hair, pushing me forward. I went, gladly.
I had always enjoyed eating a woman out, and Meghan was no exception. She was deliciously responsive, with her gasps and little moans, and when I flattened my tongue across her clit, it was like music to my ears. Then, using the end of my tongue, I teased over and around the nub.
Her moans echoed in the shipping container office. If no one could see us, they might actually hear us. That was fine by me.
Her clit was swollen, close. With my free hand, I plunged my finger into her opening, crooking upward to rub her from the inside.
Meghan practically pushed my face inward. I sucked on her clit as she rode out her climax, thighs trembling slightly.
When I pulled off her at last, she looked down at me, breathless, and said, “Don’t tell me you’re done yet.”
I grinned at her. “Miss me?”
“Just your cock.”
