It’s the eyes that gave it away, really. It’s the way she looked around with that glassy sort of intense look in them. Then of course there was the pink flush, the way she shivered whenever I took the liberty of putting my hand on her, or the way her breath would catch whenever I caught her staring from across the tent.
Yeah, she was turned on last night, and the sudden blush now at my small-talk questions has me way more interested in what went on last night after she slammed the door in my face.
“Oh, that good, huh?” I grin as she whirls at me, her mouth wide open, a look of horror on her face.
“I was not!”
“Not what, I didn’t say anything.”
The flush grows deeper then, and I only grin wider knowing that my suspicions have weight to them. “So, that’s a yes on you breaking in the Lincoln bedroom on a solo mission?”
“You are disgusting, has anyone ever told you that?” She’s glaring at me, her face looking impossibly cute with that adorable little scowl on it. She’s pouting that mouth and those lips at me, but it’s not working as intended. If she’s trying to convey disgust, it ain’t working, because all I want to do is mash my lips against hers and press her up against the wall behind her until she’s moaning into my mouth.
“At times, definitely, but I’m not wrong, am I?”
She rolls her eyes and blows air out her lips. “So wrong, on every level.”
“Liar.”
“And just what am I lying about, Hunter?”
I grab her wrist as she tries to waltz on ahead, and she gives this cute little gasp as I yank her back a step. “You’re lying that you didn’t run into that bedroom last night, lock the door, and think the dirtiest things you could think about yours truly while you put your fingers all over that adorable little pussy of yours.”
I worry for a second that I’ve actually gone too far at the look of absolute shock and disbelief on her face at my words; that is, until she seems to catch herself, and suddenly the corners of her mouth are curling up in this wicked little grin. “Oh, Hunter, what’s the matter? Jealous?” Her eyes flash at me, and I can feel my dick twitch a little under my uniform.
I give her the grin right back though. “Insanely.” I jerk my head to a door next to us in the quiet hallway of the East Wing. “You know, I happen to know this office is open and camera free, if you’d like to show me the highlights.”
She grins and purses her lips, shaking her head at me sadly. “Oh Hunter, Hunter, Hunter; my pussy is actually none of your concern.” She winks as she turns to walk away again. “However adorable it may be,” she tosses over her shoulder.
Well shit, little Maddie Adams has a pair, it seems.
And the fact that this girl can toss it right back has me very, very intrigued. Far more intrigued than I should be.
…Like anything going through my head about this girl so far is anything close to appropriate.
I make it another twenty feet down the hall with her before I can’t stand it anymore. Hearing Madison Adams say the word “pussy” is literally my breaking point, and with a growl, I’m grabbing her arm and yanking her into the next office.
“Hey!” She hisses, but I ignore her as I march us across the empty room to the bookcase.
This bookcase, I happen to know from being in the Service, camouflages the entrance to the hidden escape hallway.
“What the-” Maddie gasps as I pull the copy of “Tom Sawyer” off it’s perch and twist the little brass bust of Teddy Roosevelt, swinging the bookshelf inward to reveal the long, dimly lit tunnel.
“What in the world-” Her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open as she marvels at the doorway. But I don’t give her much time to admire it before I’m pulling us through and shoving the door shut behind us.
“Why would they build this?” She whispers, biting her lip as I slowly push her back against the wall behind her. Her eyes glint something teasing and something needy at me in the low light.
“In case you’re in trouble,” I growl, moving closer to her, my eyes locked on those perfectly pouty pink lips.
“But…I’m not in trouble,” she whispers, her chest rising and falling as I move against her. She smells like honey and vanilla, and something vaguely floral, and I want to bury my face in that scent and drink it in. I want to peel away the layers of her clothes until it’s just her skin I’m smelling; just her that I’m touching, inhaling, and tasting.