After Her Flower Petals: A Second Chance Romantic Comedy (The Svensson Brothers Book 7)

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After Her Flower Petals: A Second Chance Romantic Comedy (The Svensson Brothers Book 7) Page 21

by Alina Jacobs


  “There’s nothing wrong with low-impact development in the greenbelt,” I insisted. “We’ll build trails.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “And when I’m mayor,” Meg said, “I will sit there and listen to the whole spiel because that will of course be what I’m paid to do. However, I will not let them ram anything through.”

  Ram…

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Svensson,” the moderator interjected. “Did you say you and your brothers are trying to build in the greenbelt?”

  Greg was murderous.

  I tried to backtrack, to save the situation, but Meg was balancing on one foot, her other bare foot rubbing her ankle. It was an intimate gesture I had seen her do before when she had been in my condo in Manhattan right after I had fucked her senseless, and she was about to step into the shower to wash off, but then I joined her and…

  “Rest assured, we are not building anything in the greenbelt,” Greg said, standing up to quell the crowd that was starting to murmur angrily. “We are merely trying to help look for solutions to house Harrogate’s growing population.”

  “So are you running for mayor, or is Hunter?” the moderator asked, eyebrow raised.

  Greg sat back down, stewing at me.

  I tried to gather my thoughts.

  Meg was adjusting the wide belt right below her tits.

  “Next question for the deputy mayor,” the moderator said. “Harrogate is home to a number of burgeoning artisans, making everything from Christmas ornaments to jam to sex toys.”

  Sex…

  “How do you plan on supporting local artisans?”

  Meg said something about festivals and grants. My brain was still stuck on sex. If I couldn’t have her and soon, I was going to self-combust and probably do something extremely stupid like take Karen’s offer of release.

  “Mr. Svensson?”

  Meg smirked over at me, that shock of red lipstick drawing my focus to her mouth.

  “I… uh… yeah, I think that sounds good. Festivals are always good.”

  “So you think the answer to increasing the quality of our public schools is festivals?”

  “Sure, it teaches kids work ethic and, uh, gets them outside…”

  The rest of the debate didn’t go much better. I was able to rally near the end because I forced myself to focus solely on the mural of the battle of Harrogate at the back of the atrium.

  “You looked like you just had a lobotomy,” Greg said after it was finally over. Meg had been swept up in a crowd of people, finally releasing me from my misery.

  “The whole thing was televised,” Mace said with a frown. “You weren’t even looking at the camera. You looked like you were about to drop unconscious on the floor at any moment. Your eyes were practically rolling back in your head.”

  “You’re not high, are you?” Archer demanded, peering into my eyes.

  “No. Get off me.” I swatted him away.

  “The important thing,” Remy told me, “is that you tried your best.”

  Greg was livid. “He didn’t try his best. He barely was able to string two sentences together. Also, he completely ruined our condo idea. Seriously, Hunter, what the fuck?”

  “It’s Meg,” Archer said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “She’s like those spiders that do a little jig and lure the male spiders in their web so they can eat them.”

  “He’ll have a better showing at the bake-off in a couple of days,” Weston said confidently. “Just rub one out right before, then you’ll have clarity of mind. Plus, everyone likes it when a good-looking guy is a bumbling idiot in the kitchen.”

  “At least he doesn’t have to fake that part,” Parker said.

  I gathered my things; I couldn’t take any more of Greg’s complaining.

  “We have that lunch with the state senators tomorrow,” Greg reminded me as I was leaving. “Don’t just go to your office and stare at the wall. You need to prepare and make yourself look more competent than you did tonight.” He shook his head. “Maybe I’ll tell people you had food poisoning.”

  “No, tell them he’s lovesick.” Weston cackled. “Or sex sick.”

  “He has a terrible case of blue balls!” Archer added with a laugh.

  Fuck my brothers. And fuck Meg. Or not. That was the problem.

  My phone buzzed when I arrived back at my campaign office. It was a link to the debate.

  Greg: Terrible performance. Get it together.

  I hit Play and winced. I did not look good. But Meg did. Her tits looked amazing in that dress. She had the perfect hourglass figure.

  Maybe I will just rub one out. Maybe that’s what I need.

  I undid my pants, easing my hand in. Meg was on the video talking about how she would address healthy food in Harrogate. I imagined those red lips on my cock as my thumb slid over the tip.

  Then the door opened.

  49

  Meghan

  “You were amazing!” Kate said happily. “This was a perfect plan!” She rubbed her hands together. “Hunter was a big dumb, drooly idiot. You’re for sure winning this election.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at the office,” my friend said, waving to me. I had parked at the campaign office and walked down to city hall earlier for the debate. The night was slightly warmer, which was good. The walk wasn’t that far, and I was high on my win at the debate.

  “Maybe I’ll be mayor after all!” I said giddily, imagining the bigger office and, of course, the bigger paycheck.

  Most importantly, I would stop the Svenssons from building condos in the green space.

  “I can’t believe them,” I muttered. “Of course they were trying to railroad through a shady development. Not on my watch!”

  As I passed by Hunter’s campaign office, I half expected the Svenssons to be in there strategizing. But it was dark. Or actually, it wasn’t. I peered through the window. Someone was there—Hunter.

  I was high on my win, and I wanted to gloat. I wanted him to feel like he had made me feel yesterday. This time I had the upper hand.

  Hunter stood up abruptly as the door opened, hastily buttoning up his pants.

  I laughed, my voice echoing through the dark, empty office. “I guess you’re not as immune to me as you want to think,” I teased, sauntering over to him. I set my bag down on a nearby desk. “Mr. I’m-in-Control, Mr. I’m-Going-to-Wait-Because-of-My-Ironclad-Will.” I was in front of him now. His eyes were bright in the dark.

  “Frankly, I’m offended you were going to sit there and jack off instead of fucking me.” I walked two fingers up his chest. His jacket was off. I slowly undid his tie. His eyelashes fluttered.

  “I’ll fuck you now.” God, that deep voice. Maybe, on another night, I would be whimpering and pleading in front of him, but not now. He was mine, and I was going to enjoy it.

  “See, unfortunately for you, that was a one-time thing,” I told him. His head tipped forward slightly as I threw his tie on the ground then unbuttoned his collar, pressing my tongue to the flash of skin. He hissed a curse.

  Hunter reached for me, but I slapped his hand away. Under his intense gaze, I slipped my panties off from under my skirt.

  “Meg,” he groaned.

  I sat back on the desk, spreading my legs, my fingers slipping down between my thighs to touch my pussy. Hunter rocked back on his heels like he had been gut punched. I let my lips curl up into a slow, seductive smile.

  “Do you like what you see?” I asked, deliberately teasing myself. My fingers started a slow, leisurely sweep up and down over my clit. I widened my legs, tipping back my head and letting out a long, exaggerated groan. Just for him.

  “You know I do.” His voice was as rough as if he had swallowed glass. I knew he must be achingly hard already—I could see the bulge his cock made against the front of his pants. The thought of finally feeling him inside me was enough to make my mouth water.

  My inner walls clenched in sympathy, and despite myself, I picked up t
he pace to tease my clit with more effort. Warmth spread through my body. I was hungry for him. But it wasn’t time. Not yet.

  “Do you need a hand?” Hunter stepped forward, but I knocked his reaching fingers away.

  I clucked my tongue. “Uh-uh. Since you didn’t feel like fucking me last night…” I trailed off, hooking one heel on the edge of a desk drawer to open up and let him see the whole show—how pink and flushed I was for him. “You can just watch.”

  His eyes flashed with anger and frustrated lust. “You don’t want me to make you come?”

  I pouted, pretending to think about it as my hand slowly picked up the pace. My hips rocked up in time with my movements, and I had to force myself to be still. It was exciting to have him standing before me, frustrated, while I got myself off. “You can fuck me,” I said slowly, drawing out the word, “if you make me come first.”

  “Deal.” He sank to his knees, pushing my thighs apart in one quick movement. I barely had time to pull my hand from myself and grab the back of his head before his mouth was on me.

  “Oh shit!” The gasp slipped out before I thought to clamp my mouth shut.

  Hunter’s tongue teased my pussy and pointedly swept over my clit in one long lick. I shivered from head to toe. My thighs wanted to clamp around his head and just ride him for all he was worth. Hunter licked me like he was trying to find the center of a Tootsie Pop, not giving me any time to catch my breath. He shifted slightly, his fingers coming up to tap lightly at my opening. He slid two fingers in at once—the stretch felt amazing and lit up a new wave of nerves through me.

  I cried out, legs trembling, and he licked me again at the same time his fingers hit the perfect spot inside me…

  I saw stars behind my closed eyes.

  Hunter wove me through the waves of orgasm. Just as I came down completely, he pulled back.

  I stared at him, dazed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.

  “It’s like you were just wishing I would wander into your office and beg for your cock,” I joked.

  “Good thing you did, or I was going to yours and fucking your tight little pussy.”

  I was immediately wet again. I grabbed for Hunter’s pants, reaching in and pulling out his cock. It was as thick as I wanted, and I swear my mouth started to water. My pussy ached, and even though I had just come, I felt empty inside.

  “Turn around. Bend over the desk,” he ordered as he rolled on the condom.

  I scrambled to do what he wanted, but I couldn’t let him think he could order me around without a little sass. “I like this desk, so you better make this good.”

  His answer was to press up from behind me—the ridged length of him nudging under my bottom. Hunter’s hands came around me to cup my breasts, and he nosed at my neck. I closed my eyes, relishing in the sensation, and when he pushed me down to lean against the desk, I went gladly.

  He pushed in, taking me from behind. I arched my back, grabbing onto the edge of the desk for leverage, because I could feel how frustrated I had been, and I wanted—expected—him to take it out on me.

  Oh boy, did he.

  Hunter entered me in short, brutal thrusts. I let out a low groan, tipping my head down and clenching around him just to feel the fullness of his shaft.

  It didn’t take long for him to fully seat himself inside me. He stayed there for a moment as if savoring it himself. Then he pulled out and shoved back with one smooth glide that seemed to warm me from the inside out.

  He fucked me deep and hard, and if this wasn’t such a heavy desk, it might have moved across the floor. I had to stuff the side of my hand into my mouth to keep from crying out. Hunter seemed to know exactly the perfect angle. Once he found my G-spot, he hit it again and again, showing no mercy. This man wanted me to come and come hard. Bent over the desk and taking it, I had no other option but to comply.

  I gave a muffled cry as I reached my peak, and still, he fucked me through it. Then, to my surprise, I felt myself building again. I slammed my free hand against the flat of the desk, clawing at the wood as he wrung a third orgasm out of me.

  That seemed to tip Hunter over the edge as well. He came with a muffled sort of growl—his thrusts messy and uncoordinated as he chased his own pleasure. Then finally he slowed, leaning over me as he caught his breath.

  “Damn,” Hunter said against my neck. He pressed an almost chaste kiss against my throat. Then he hauled me upright. He spun me around, giving me one last, rough kiss. “Next time,” he told me, “I’m fucking you in a bed.”

  “Except there’s not going to be another time,” I told him, rubbing some of my lipstick off his chin with my thumb. “That was it, your last shot.”

  Hunter reacted like I had brained him with a two-by-four.

  “I—not—”

  I blew him a kiss as I left. After I was in my car, though, I started to have serious regrets. Maybe I was too hasty.

  I rubbed my trembling legs. It had been so good and so powerful. There was no way that was going to be the last time I was fucked by Hunter. I wouldn’t survive; I would melt into a pile of sex-starved goo.

  But if Hunter found out that I craved him, then he would have the upper hand.

  50

  Hunter

  That is not going to be the last time I fuck her. I knew that with total certainty. The post-orgasm clarity had focused me. Even if I don’t fuck her until after the election, I promised myself as I tucked in my shirt, this was what I needed. Now I can focus on the election.

  I made notes on my talking points for the meeting with the New York Chamber of Commerce, sent out several well-composed emails, and reviewed several real estate proforma analyses for Svensson Investment.

  Meg might have thought she was still fucking with my head. But fucking her, coming in her, had been exactly what I had needed.

  “He’s a new man!” Weston announced when I arrived home later that evening.

  “You didn’t sleep with Karen, did you?” Garrett asked, nose turned up.

  “Of course not,” I said, grinning.

  Remy shook his head. “You can’t keep using women for sex. This is why you have all those problems with Meg.”

  “She used me for sex.” My grin grew broader. “And now I’m back to peak performance. I should have fucked her before the debate. Oh, well, lesson learned.”

  “You should have waited until she actually accepted your apology,” Mace said. “You’re in a toxic feedback pattern. You need to make some changes in your life.”

  Normally I would have jumped down my younger brother’s throat for that comment, but I had just gotten laid, and I was riding high. Instead, I messed up his hair, which I knew he hated.

  “I have killer talking points for the chamber tomorrow,” I assured Greg. “Now I’m going to eat a steak and finally get eight hours of sleep.”

  As if by magic, my littlest brothers all seemed to appear in the dining room.

  “You have food?” they clamored.

  I held my takeout container above my head while they jumped around me like puppies.

  “I made a very nice chicken stir-fry,” Mace told me. “You could at least try it.”

  No, Parker mouthed. It’s poison.

  “It’s not that bad,” Mace snapped.

  “It was pretty bad,” Garrett added.

  The kids were still begging for some of my food.

  “You already ate,” I reminded them.

  “Not steak!” they pleaded.

  “Holy smokes.”

  “You better give them some before they drool all over your pants,” Blade said.

  In the end, I ate about two small slivers of steak, a quarter of a brussels sprout, and one forkful of garlic parmesan mashed potatoes. My brothers wolfed down the rest of the meal.

  “Is there any more?” Justin asked.

  “It’s all gone,” I told him, which set off a full-blown tantrum.

  “That’s why,” Garrett said, over the screaming, “if you bring ba
ck food, you need to order enough to share.”

  My stomach grumbled. Mace silently handed me a plate of lukewarm chicken and vegetables.

  “You shouldn’t be eating all that rich food at your age anyway,” Parker added.

  Jeez, my fucking brothers.

  I didn’t even get as much sleep as I wanted. Though, for once, Meg didn’t haunt my dreams, I couldn’t escape my family.

  Blaaaarrrrrrr!

  The alarm system I’d had Blade and Weston secretly install went off in the middle of the night. The screeching siren woke up all my little brothers, and they streamed out into the hallway.

  “Fire! Fire!” several of them screamed, running around in circles.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Greg demanded, running out of his room, ears covered.

  “Turn it off,” I ordered Weston.

  “I don’t know how. Blade set it up, and he’s at Avery’s,” Weston said.

  Remy came inside with two of the teenagers.

  “So, you thought that because I came home in a good mood that you were just going to sneak out?” I demanded.

  “You’re ruining my social life!” Isaac complained.

  “Don’t worry, you and Calvin are going to have a lot of social time cleaning windows,” I said with a smile. “Now back to bed.”

  The next morning, at the New York Chamber of Commerce meeting, I wasn’t as on game as I had felt last night. The high of being inside Meg had worn off, and the desire to have her again and again and again had come back full force.

  “You have this,” I told myself. “Just do the meeting, crush it, then go find Meg.”

  But my brain had decided that maybe Meg had been serious after all. The alarm had been pulled, and my libido was in full panic mode. Last night could not be the last time I was with her. It just couldn’t.

  Greg shot me a dangerous look as we waited in the lobby for the secretary to tell us to go back to the conference room.

 

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