"Fuck. You feel so damn good."
One final surge into my heat and I erupt like a fucking volcano. I shriek with pleasure. I'm panting as I ride the aftershocks of my orgasm. My limbs convulse.
Before I can gain complete control over my limbs again, another wave of ecstasy hits me, causing me to shudder from the enjoyment. God. I thought it was going to be good. But I never could have imagined that it would feel this good.
"Damn, baby. You got me so close," he growls.
I turn my head and look back at him in all his glory. He looks like a fucking Greek god. His brown hair glistens black with the dampness of sweat. The same sweat makes his Adonis-like body glisten, arousing me even more. As if this man needed to get any sexier.
He keeps his pace, not letting up. As my muscles contract around him, gripping onto his cock tighter and tighter, he sucks in a sharp breath. And with one final thrust, I feel him climax inside me. His cock twitches as it partakes in his aftershocks. Aaron collapses on top of me, both of us panting. Through our gasping breaths, he whispers into my ear, "You never cease to challenge me." He brushes a strand of hair out of my face and gently tucks it behind my ear. I turn my head around and latch onto his lips. This time, it is a sweet and tender kiss.
"And you, Mr. Hunter, are full of surprises."
He laughs and I can feel his cock spring back to life inside me. Already? What the fuck?
Aaron dislodges himself from me, leaving a hollow void in his absence. I roll myself over and stare at the ceiling. Hi, I'm Nicole Parker and I've just been fucked by Aaron Hunter.
I just became one of his fucking bimbos and, quite frankly, I don't give a shit. Do I regret what I did? No. Would I do it again? In a fucking heartbeat. Can I do it again? Will he let me? Let's find out. I'm not done with you yet, Mr. Hunter. If I'm going to be Bimbo Number Eleven, I am sure as hell going to earn it.
The sound of shower water running in the adjacent room disrupts my thoughts. Now is the opportune moment for this vixen to pounce.
As discreetly and quietly as I can manage, I sneak up behind him, submerging myself in the warm water. I resist the overwhelming urge to spank his bare ass in front of me, this has to be a surprise. Carefully, I reach around his waist and grasp his cock. He gasps as I clutch his manhood in my bare hand. He turns his head to flash me a coy smile.
"A shower is supposed to make you cleaner, not dirtier." I release his cock and press my naked body against his backside, standing on my tip-toes to bring my mouth to his ear.
"Who says it can't do both?" I whisper seductively. "I've always had this one fantasy."
"Is that so?" I could tell that the suspense was killing him. "Tell me about it, Parker."
"Well, it starts with you pinning me against the shower wall. And I'm sure your clever self can figure out the rest." Aaron groans with sexual frustration.
"Fuck. You know how to drive me crazy. But if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this right." Aaron squeezes liquid soap into his hands. "Come here."
I obey his howling command. We both share the space directly under the showerhead, letting the water cascade down our bare bodies. Aaron lathers the soap between his hands and starts to rub his soapy hands over my tender breasts. I yelp as he rubs over the sensitive nipples he ravaged just a few moments earlier. He flashes his beautiful eyes at me. "Good pain or bad pain?"
"Good pain." My response was breathy. I was still coming down from that high he sent me on when his fingers brushed over my nipples.
Aaron starts to make his way over my entire canvas, spending more time in certain areas. He grabs a washcloth and uses it to clean the most intimate part of me, the part where we were joined a few minutes ago.
When Aaron finishes cleaning me, he pushes me against the shower wall, his body weight pinning me into place. This is really happening.
My bare breasts are pressed up against the algid porcelain tile. Once again, he enters me from behind and I can feel my muscles contract around his straining erection. He nuzzles his face into my neck, sucking it harder with each thrust of his hips.
"Kiss me," I bark through my short breaths. He obeys, bringing his mouth to mine, engulfing my tongue. I moan into his mouth as I reach my climax. That must have really turned him on because he begins to plow into me with carnal ferocity. He lost control…again. Score: Nicole-two, Aaron-two.
In a desperate attempt to make him lose his fucking mind, I push against the shower wall, sending us back against the built-in seat. He sits down and I ride him. As I do so, his helpless hands find their way to my breasts. He squeezes them as if he’s buying fruit. I liked how it felt. Okay, it felt fucking fantastic.
"I like when you're powerless." He laughs.
"Of course, you do. But I don't." I know. I like it when you squirm.
Aaron kneads my nipples through his fingers. When he pinches them, I explode, moaning as my muscles clench down onto him even tighter, causing him to finally erupt into a release of his own. The sound of his grunt rejuvenates me, giving me a sense of pride and accomplishment. I fucked him good. Really good.
In all fairness, we both deserve a point for that. Score: tied at three.
Chapter Six
Aaron
I roll over in the middle of the night, expecting to bump into her, but she’s gone. I open my eyes to confirm it. Yeah, she’s gone. Have I just been Huntered? That's what the tabloids used to call it. Maybe she had to use the bathroom? Don't be such a dumbass. She's probably at the office writing an expose on how you are a man-whore.
I hop out of bed and walk out onto the catwalk that overlooks the living room. No sign of her.
In a frenzy of panic, I search the rest of the penthouse. The closet, the three guest bedrooms, their bathrooms, the kitchen, the dining room, the library, and the office. Nothing.
I head back into my bedroom, grinning like an idiot when I finally spot her. There she is, out on the balcony, staring into the night, drinking coffee? She looks heavenly in my Aerosmith T-shirt, the lights of New York City illuminating the sky behind her. Fuck, she is goddamn sexy! I open the sliding-glass door and join her.
"Caffeine junkie?" I point toward the mug resting in her hand. Shocked, she turns around and tucks a loose strand of her gorgeous brown hair behind her ear.
"No. Coffee addict. I just love coffee. Hope you don't mind." I shake my head.
"No. Not at all. Mi casa es su casa. I want you to feel comfortable here." I walk up behind her, wrap both my arms around her, and rub my thumbs over both her arms, attempting to soothe her troubled thoughts. I know what she must be thinking. How did I let myself become like all those other girls? Am I a fool? I rest my head on her shoulder as we both stare out into the night.
I stare into her coffee cup, taking a mental note of how she likes it…straight up black, no cream. I guess she likes power and strength in all aspects of her life, which can only mean trouble for me.
"Tell me something," I ask, wondering if she will actually participate in what is about to unfold.
"Like a secret?"
"Doesn't have to be a secret, just something personal. I want to know you better." She seems hesitant at first but eventually comes around. She bites down on her bottom lip as her eyes roll upward. My cock awakens, stiffening at the sight. She giggles, so I can only assume she felt my arousal too.
"You go first. And then I'll tell you something. I promise." What to say? I don't want it to be too personal, but I want it to be intriguing and shocking enough so she will think that there's more to me than meets the eye.
"My father was a hired assassin." Nicole's jaw drops to the floor. I guess I chose a good secret.
"But in the press conference, you said he owned his own law firm."
"Yeah, the law firm I bought him to save his ass from going to jail. All my family's money came from paid contracts. I don't speak to him to this day." Nicole shakes her head in disbelief.
"Why cover for him?" I sigh. That’s complicated.
"Tha
t's a story for another time. Your turn, Parker."
Nicole taps her chin repeatedly, trying to think of a secret. She yawns before she speaks again.
"My older brother passed away. I don't really like to talk about it to anybody. But especially to my Mom." Tears start to form in her eyes. I brush as many as I can away, but eventually the floodgates open, causing waterfalls to flow from her eyes.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry." She dries her eyes, and in a weak voice, clarifies.
"You didn't make me cry. The memory of him did. I'm so sorry that I'm a blubbering mess right now."
"Don't ever apologize for showing me your emotions. Even if the emotion is I-fucking-hate-you-Aaron-Hunter, I want to see it. And experience every side of you. Believe me when I say I want to know you better than anybody else."
I am dying to know how her brother passed, but I’m not daring enough to ask. Seeming to read my mind, she answers my unspoken question.
"His name was Isaiah. He had Parkinson's Disease. And not a day goes by when I don't miss him."
I hold her tight, in complete silence, hoping that I am enough to help soothe her. What a tragic story. Maybe that's why she is so guarded, afraid to let me in.
The sharing-time moment passed. We just stare up into the night sky. Nicole is still wrapped up in my embrace. I can tell that something still troubles her mind, and I don't think it is her brother's memory.
"What's on your mind, Parker?" I try to prepare myself for whatever she might say. She bows her head and gazes into her now-empty coffee mug.
"What about Marcia?" Shit. I completely forgot that I am supposed to be engaged. And I decided to have sex with a reporter, of all people! Well, Delores is going to love sweeping this one under the mat.
"Forget about her." She furrows her brow.
"Forget about her? How the hell can I do that? I just slept with her fiancé…twice!" I want to ease her worries so desperately. I want to just scream out to the rest of the world that I am not engaged. It's all a hoax. But I can't. No matter how badly I wish I could. I sigh into her shoulder. Say something. And be truthful.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I just can't seem to control myself when I'm around you." That might have been too truthful.
"I can fix that."
Nicole fights her way out of my embrace and runs back into the penthouse. Quickly, I chase her out of my bedroom and down the stairs. There she stands, waiting for the elevator.
"Damn elevator."
I grab her hand, pulling her toward me, wrapping her in the sweetest embrace I can manage. I place my forehead on hers, close my eyes, and whisper, "Please, don't go."
I let go of her, keeping my eyes closed. I want her to want to stay, not stay because I won't let her go. It is her choice. Her call. And I am not going to stand in her way. I hear the elevator doors open, but I don't dare open my eyes. If she is leaving, I don't want to watch her walk out of my life.
It wasn't until I heard the elevator doors ding closed that I finally open my eyes. And with that ding, she was gone.
Chapter Seven
Aaron
I can't sleep the rest of the night. I just lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't let Marcia Gonzalez back into my life. Would she have stayed?
As the night progresses, I start to grow worried about what the morning will bring. I just fucked a reporter when I am supposedly an engaged man. That can't end well.
Not to mention that I turn into a completely different person when Nicole Parker is concerned. I broke all my own rules. The same rules that keep me grounded. That keep me sane. That keep me from falling in too deep. How did I let this happen?
Rule #1: Do what I say…always. Broken.
Rule #2: Don't touch me unless given permission. Broken.
Rule #3: I don't stay the night…ever. Broken.
Rule #4: Never my place, always hers. Broken.
Rule #5: Don't show vulnerability. Broken.
I let her break down my defenses. I let her break every rule in my book. And to make matters worse, I certainly didn't follow my very own five-step process.
Step 1: Mark my territory. Nope.
Step 2: Make her beg. She most definitely didn't beg.
Step 3: Make her come…hard! Okay, that one happened, numerous times.
Step 4: Make her scream my name. Never have I ever let anybody skip this step. Until now.
Step 5: Finish. This step is usually guaranteed.
And my infamous last line, something to remember me by, was never spoken. In fact, my last words to her were: please, don't go. Then the realization hit me. I can't believe it. She made me beg!
I can't help but smile at her accomplishment. When I'm around her, I feel like a teenage boy in love for the first time. I haven't felt that feeling in eight years. Love? This can't be love already. Can it? No. Aaron Hunter does not fall in love, not anymore.
My cellphone chimes loudly, the ringtone echoing throughout the large, open foyer. More than likely, it’s Delores. She probably has to talk my ear off about how much I fucked up this time and all the hard work she had to do to fix it.
I walk over to the end table in the foyer, retrieve my phone, and answer it.
"Hi, Delores. Let me guess, I have to fake Marcia's pregnancy?"
"Marcia's pregnant?" She sounds panicked and concerned at the same time. Hell, no. I haven't laid a finger on that wretched woman since I announced my campaign.
"No. I haven't touched her with my hand, let alone my dick." Delores was puzzled.
"Then why did you…"
"Never mind. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I hope this will divert the conversation, but Delores knows me too well.
"Hold on, young man. If you haven't f-u-c-k-e-d Marcia, then who have you been getting it on with?" I can't help but laugh at her attempt not to curse. And admire her persistence. She knows me better than anyone. It's a two-way street. That's why I know she will get a kick out of this joke.
"Maybe I'm staying abstinent. Ever think about that?" Delores guffaws so loudly, I extend my arm, removing the phone from my ear. I put the phone on speaker, walk into the kitchen, and place it down on the island. I'm halfway done making my morning coffee when Delores finally catches her breath.
"Oh. That was a real gut-splitter. Anyway. Who have you been sleeping with lately?" I pour a little bit of creamer into my coffee, stir it with a spoon, and then clear my throat.
"Just some nobody. I've been discreet. Trust me?"
"Not buying it, Prince Charming."
"C'mon Delores. Would I ever lie to you? And, by the way, you know I'm more of a Flynn Rider kind of guy." She chuckles.
"You mean Eugene Fitzherbert. And, yes. You would lie to me. But only if you did something horrible and irresponsible. 'Cuz that makes you afraid to tell me. So, just do it. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. You know I can fix anything."
I swallow hard, forcing down the newly formed lump in my throat.
"Okay. I fucked Nicole Parker." Delores gasps.
"You aren't talking about the Nicole Parker. Reporter for the Daily Yorker Gazette?" Aaron is always amazed by the abundant amount of information that Delores stores inside her brain.
"No. Not that one."
"Oh, my God. You fucking idiot." So much for her trying not to curse phase. "How could you be so reckless? She is going to expose your secret to the world."
I grew angry. Not at Delores, she was just doing her job. The job that I pay her for. And one she does so fucking well. I'm angry that I am frustrated. And I am frustrated because of this whole campaign built on lies.
"Remind me again why I wanted to run in the first place." Delores sighs.
"Oh, how quickly you forget things when some floozy plays with your cock." She crossed the fucking line.
I clench my fists tight, trying to calm myself down. My breaths grow faster and shorter. I feel my nostrils start to flare. I take my coffee mug, chuck it
into the air, and watch it shatter into a million pieces when it collides with the marble floor. It didn't help. I am still so fucking angry.
"Don't you dare call her a floozy," I hiss through gritted teeth. "She is not some fuckmate! We fucked in my own goddamn bed! For fuck’s sake!"
My hands start to tremble. I have never been so outraged before in my life. Well, except that one time. I quickly suppress the memory. I try not to think about that day…ever.
"Wait a minute. You fucked her at your apartment?" I sigh, hoping it will ease some of my anger. It doesn't.
"Yes."
"I apologize then. She must be very special to you. And to answer your earlier question, you are doing this because you promised her that you would." Sadness overcomes me.
"You're right. I know. I just never wanted to do it this way. She wouldn't want me to lie my way to the top. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this charade."
"You could always tell the truth. But if you do that, think of the consequences. The voters won't trust anything that you say anymore. And there's no guarantee that Nicole will come back to you with open arms."
"What makes you think she left?"
"Honey. You wouldn't have snapped at me like you did if she stayed."
And yet again, Delores was right. About everything. I can't come clean now without the risk of losing the whole election. And today was the beginning of my campaign trail. I glanced at the oven clock. I have to be at the Today Show in an hour. I'll never make it there on time. Not in the daily morning city traffic. I guess I'm going to have to be the douche that arrives by helicopter.
"Thanks, Delores. I needed that. Keep in touch." I hang up the phone before I remember that I never did find out why she called me in the first place. Oh, well. It must not have been too important or life-threatening. Maybe Parker hasn't exposed me…yet.
Timothy sent me a text last night that he had food poisoning, something about bad oysters. That just means that I'm flying solo when it comes to picking out an outfit for the interview today.
Double Agent Page 5
