“Because I’ve never heard you say it.” Come on, Little Bird, say it. Take me. That’s all I need to hear.
She went absolutely still and locked eyes with me in the mirror. Then she dragged her tongue across her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Just once,” she drawled. Who was really in control here? “Fuck me. Now.”
She was.
Holy. Fucking. Hot. My control snapped, and I thrust into her, then pulled out in a driving rhythm. Our eyes never lost contact as I slammed into her, each thrust better, deeper than the last. This was my heaven. Her breaths turned choppy, her keening cries short and high as she arched. “More!”
I ran my hand between her hips and the counter, pulling her even harder against me, then stroked across her clit, alternating rubbing with little flicks. Her legs started to shake, and I pressed down with two fingers. She flew apart in my hands, screaming my name and triggering my orgasm as she clenched down around me. My knees nearly gave out, but I kept us upright, breathing harshly against the skin of her neck. I found her mouth and kissed her gently. “I love you,” I told her as I slid out and lowered her feet to the ground. That was the biggest difference. No matter if it was soft, slow, hard, fast, or even a little dirty, I was still making love to her. I left a piece of my soul with her every single time.
She turned in my arms and returned the kiss. “I love you more.”
I stood there, grinning like a doofus as I cleaned up and tucked everything back in where it was supposed to be. She ran a brush over her hair and made sure her dress didn’t advertise what we’d just been doing. I didn’t need the dress to tell me. It was in the flush in her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes, her swollen lips.
We were twenty minutes late when we pulled into the country club parking lot. I tossed the keys to the valet and lifted her down from Lucy.
“Can you tell?” she whispered as we walked quickly through the marble foyer toward the dining hall.
She wavered, and I pulled her close, whispering in her ear. “Tell what? That I just bent you over my bathroom counter and fucked you senseless?”
She blushed and playfully smacked my chest with the back of her hand. “Jagger Bateman, you watch that mouth of yours. We’re in public.”
I grinned, considering what she’d just said to me in private. “You like that mouth of mine. On you. Even in public.” She wavered again, and I gripped her waist tighter. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, but her breath was shallow. “I’m really okay, I promise. I just need to sit.”
“Tell me if you want to get home and rest, okay?” She nodded, and I straightened to a respectful distance as we entered the dining room, keeping her hand tucked in mine. She spotted her parents and waved. The table was set for six. Three of them were already there. Of course he was here. “Hey, y’all,” she greeted them. “Sorry we’re late.”
I pulled her chair out for her, and then shook her dad’s hand. “General Donovan.” I smiled at her mom. “Mrs. Donovan.” And nodded to Carter. “Carter.”
I did my best to ignore the subtle dig, especially since I’d been inside Paisley twenty-two minutes ago. I win. I even sat next to him.
“Will, it’s nice to see you,” Paisley said with a tight smile.
“We have an important guest coming that I wanted to introduce you both to,” her dad answered. “Ah, there he is!”
Her dad left the table to greet the guest, who’d entered behind me, but I was too focused on Carter’s dropped jaw to turn and look. “See a ghost, Carter?” I joked.
“Holy shit, that’s Senator Mansfield,” he said, like he was in the presence of God.
“Ah, so good to see you, Donovan!” The voice ripped through every defense I’d built in seven years. It was impossible. Not here. Not with Paisley. Not when she didn’t know.
“Jagger, are you okay?” she whispered.
I looked at her and brushed my lips against hers one last time as Jagger Bateman. “Paisley, I’m so sorry.”
“What? Why?” she asked softly, brushing her hand along my jaw. I leaned into her touch for a moment and then leaned back, scrambling to put up the walls that might save me.
He stood across from me, the look in his eyes familiar and calculated as he assessed me. His suit was impeccable as always, his blond hair flecked with enough silver to give him a carefully cultivated mix of youth and experience.
“I’d like to introduce you both to Senator Johnathon Mansfield, the ranking member of the Senate Armed Services Committee,” General Donovan introduced him.
“Ranking for now.” He laughed. “Remember, it’s an election year, and who knows, I might be out of a job come November.”
That’s why he was here—locating the weakest spot in his armor. Me.
“I’ve seen the polls. There’s nothing to worry about there, Senator. Let me introduce you to two promising young men.” He gestured toward Carter first.
Carter stood and shook his hand like he was meeting a celebrity. “I’m Lieutenant Carter, sir. I saw you speak at the academy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Paisley’s eyes flickered to me, undoubtedly wondering why I hadn’t stood up, or so much as acknowledged him.
General Donovan cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at me. When I didn’t move, he spoke, “Senator, this is another new lieutenant, my daughter’s boyfriend—”