Chapter 29 #2
Even though I’m severely shorter than she is, and I have to crane my neck to look her in the eye, I hold her gaze and repeat, low and lethal. “I said, do you understand?”
Gathering whatever aplomb she still has after that demonic takedown (see what I did there, baby girl? Mommy is going to teach you how to be hilarious), Gwendolyn nods curtly and spins on her heels.
Shifting my gaze to the other woman, I allow my feralness to leech back into the inky black compartment reserved for my victims. Offering a small smile, she waves awkwardly before sprinting out of the bathroom behind her friend.
Once we’re alone, I stare at my reflection, rubbing my stomach protectively.
An odd sense of satisfaction swells through me from finally giving her a piece of my mind—but as quickly as it hits, pinpricks of annoyance follow.
“Daddy has some explaining to do.”
Hunter
Bang!
Startled, I spin in my chair as Bunny storms into my office, slams the door, and locks it.
“Brooks, I gotta go. I have an angry baby momma who looks like she’s out for blood.”
Anderson Brooks’s chuckle filters through the speaker. “Hi, Bunny.”
“Bye, Anders,” she croons sweetly before reaching over and disconnecting the call. She drops the receiver beside the cradle and fixes me with a displeased stare, lips pursed, arms crossed.
She’s obviously pissed. Don’t look at her breasts. Don’t look at her—
“Hunter!”
Shit. She caught me.
They’re just getting so big, though.
“Yes, my gorgeous little rabbit?” Spinning my chair, I pat my lap as she rounds the desk in a huff. “What’s wrong? I thought you didn’t want to leave the house today?”
“Yeah, well, your work wife pissed me off.”
For a second I think she might actually smack me. Instead, her hands fly to the button of my pants, unfastening them and attempting to wrangle my dick out of its confines like it personally offended her.
“Seriously, Hunter? Dinner with Gwendolyn?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Strangely, the jealousy rolling off her in thick waves is a total turn-on—even though we’re in the middle of the damn police department. “I didn’t have dinner with Gwendolyn.”
“Really? Because she posted a photo on Iconic—dinner on your desk with your glasses—and captioned it, ‘dinner date with my work husband.’”
She steps back and yanks her pants down, nearly tripping when they catch around her ankles.
“Bunny, what are you—” Pleasure zips up my spine as she climbs into my lap and sinks onto me, already soaked. “Oh, fuck.”
“I figured it was time to stake my claim publicly.”
Sharp, pointed nails dig into my cheeks as she clutches my jaw, forcing my eyes to hers. Rolling her hips with feral vigor, she rides me like she’s training for the rodeo.
“We had a little run-in just now in the bathroom. She better not bother you again.”
God, the way she moves is sin personified. And the way she feels—slick and hot and so fucking mine. So very fucking mine.
Reaching between us, I languidly rub her clit, pulling her down to swallow her moans. If she keeps this pace, I’m not going to last. Our tongues tangle, her teeth scraping my bottom lip, tugging it between us with a sharp nip.
“Why aren’t you denying it?” she demands, using my shoulders for leverage as she rocks in my lap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby. But shut the fuck up about it and drench my cock already—I’m about to come.”
Sultry laughter bubbles from her lips as she spins the chair to lean back over my desk. Her pace slows to a grind, the new angle stretching me as her walls strangle my cock when she arches back.
Reaching for my hand, she places my fingers back on her clit, encouraging me to stroke her as she widens her legs around my thighs. Slickness pours from her pussy, drenching my cock and my lap, and it takes everything not to dig my fingers into her hips and slam into her.
“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined you fucking me on your desk?”
“Probably not as many as I’ve imagined fucking you on it. Now be a good girl and come for me.” I give her pussy a light slap and savor the squeal that spills from those pink lips.
“Fuck, Hunter,” she rasps, keeping her voice low. Her fingers dig into my forearms, and her pussy clamps down around me.
“Yeah, baby. That’s it.” Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I push her farther onto the desk as I stand and spread her wide. “Look how soaked you are for me, you greedy little slut.”
“There!” she cries when I lean over and angle deeper. “Right there. Harder!”
I give her exactly what she wants, taking pleasure in the sight of her clawing at me—pushing me away and pulling me closer—like she can’t decide how powerful she wants her orgasm to be.
I decide for her.
Her mouth opens in a silent scream as I piston in and out. When her pussy chokes me again, I empty inside her while she bathes my cock in her release.
Breathless giggles float in the air as I slow. Golden-pine eyes blink up at me, sated. “That was so worth leaving home for.”
“Glad I could be of service.” Brushing a chaste kiss to her lips, I help her sit. I’m still lodged inside her, and her legs cinch around my waist when I try to step back.
I smooth my thumb over her naked scar. She’s been leaving the house more without the foil stickers, and it wrecks me—in the best way—that she’s finally comfortable showing it or not caring who sees.
“Now, about your accusation... I didn’t have dinner with Gwendolyn. I was in a meeting up until right before you stormed in. I’d barely gotten Brooks on the phone.”
Bunny frowns. “I know it was your desk. Your glasses were in the photo. And she made it sound true when we spoke.”
This time she lets me pull back. I grab tissues, clean us up, and help her down as she chews her thumbnail.
“Did you ask her straight up if we had dinner together?”
“No,” she grumbles.
After I tuck myself away, I help her into her pants, steadying her hips as I tug them up.
“Okay, well. I hate to tell you this, but we’ve been here before with the whole social media thing.
It wasn’t me. If she used my desk for a photo, it was while I was in the meeting—which means she’s fucking crazy, and I’ll be talking to someone about getting transferred off her case.
” I kiss the tip of her nose and straighten.
“Now, I’d say you owe me an apology for the dramatic entrance, but honestly the only thing I’m upset about is that you felt like you had to leave the house when you didn’t want to. ”
She lifts a shoulder, a pink flush blooming over her freckles. “I think it’s time everyone knew anyway, don’t you?”
The hope on her face turns my insides to goo. “What my little rabbit wants, she gets.”
A sharp laugh escapes as she pushes me back playfully. “Remember, all this happened because you started denying me. Once I pop the baby out, you’ll probably revert to depriving me.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
It’s meant as a joke—riffing off hers, because she knows I’d never deny her anything. But the humor drains from her face in an instant. Suddenly, the air goes thick, and I know I fucked up.
“Yeah, I guess we will.” Without waiting for a reply, she storms for the door.
“Bunny, wait! I was kidding.” Hastily fastening my pants and hurry after her.
But she’s already sailing out with a sharp, “Cool joke, Hunter.”
“Bunny!” Ignoring the stares thrown my way, I decide against running after her. If I’ve learned anything these past months, it’s that when she’s angry, she wants space.
Pregnancy hormones are a bitch.