Page 63 of Bona Fide

“I don’t want to deal with you anymore. Your drama, a politician, a liar. With or without the wife, Governor, we would’ve never worked.”

The moment she’s about to reach for the doorknob, I have my hand on her shoulder, spinning her around again just to slam her back into the wall.

“You knew who I was before you climbed on top of me that night at your place. I didn’t initiate this, Reagan, you did.”

“You’re right,” she carps. “It’s my fault. I told you to lie and—” My hand is on her throat, putting enough pressure on it to make my point.

“I’m going to choke every single one of your naive-ass comments out of your body, baby. What you’re spilling out to me is bullshit.” I lean in closer to her. “I love you, do you understand that? I have a fucked-up past that was never supposed to touch you, but it did. And now I want to make it right, and you’re being a fucking brat.”

“What would you do in my position?” she upbraids. “You’d just forgive me?”

“I would, because I just fucking said I love you.” I yank her to me, straining her lips to mine. Hers open immediately the moment they touch, and I shove my tongue inside, tasting her for the first time in over a week.

Calm encases around me, everything on my body relaxes, except my hard cock that’s been wanting another round.

Reagan gulps in my mouth for air, but I swallow it.

She doesn’t get it. I would do anything for her. And if that means dropping my run for presidency, I’d do it—in a heartbeat.

Pulling her leg up to my waist, I lift her by her ass with my other hand. She wraps around me, giving me full access to her entrance.

“Pull your shit to the side,” I command through meshes of our lips.

Reagan reaches between us, yanking her panties to the side for me to have my way. For us to both have our damn way when it comes to this.

However, my idea of all of this is that she listens to me, lets me define everything, so we can move on and come up with a plan.

I get my cock free through my zipper in record time, thrusting into her within seconds and releasing a combined moan between the two of us.

“You’re perfect for me,” I tell her, squeezing her ass and spreading her cheeks. “I want to be perfect for you.”

“There’s too much,” she mutters.

“Did you say I was too much?” I feel her smile against my lips before sliding her wet tongue back into my mouth.

I don’t take my time fucking her. We’re in my office, it’s not exactly a safe place, and Em has a knack for bugging me at the wrong times.

“God…” Reagan pulls her mouth from mine, letting her head tilt back to hit the wall. I use my opportunity to loom in and softly bite her neck, licking a trail up the column to feel all her etched goosebumps.

“You taste like everything I’ve ever wanted. I promise to—” The door to my office swings open like the fucking S.W.A.T. team about to make a bust, almost slamming into Reagan and I.

I immediately drop her, pivoting on my heels and shielding her with my body. When the door slams behind the asshole who just robbed me of my first moment with Reagan in days, thank fucking God my hard cock is shoved back into my trousers.

Demi stands in a tight maroon dress, looking for me at my desk.

“What in the fuck do you want?” I fume, glaring at the back of her head that I wish would make her evaporate into ashes.

Peering over her shoulder, Demi casually looks at me, like it’s no big deal. As though she can march around wherever she pleases because she took my name, decimated my heart, and wants my world.

“Did your mother never teach you to knock?” Demi glints up at me, her face softening as she strides further into my space.

Her Gucci shoes click with each step on my hardwood floors, pricking at my last nerves.

“Came to see if you wanted to grab some lunch,” she offers then abruptly halts like she hit an invisible wall.

Welp, so much for keeping Reagan unseen.

Demi’s blue eyes thin, but she straightens her spine, ready to go on the offense. Not that she’d ever actually fight, the bitch wouldn’t want to break a nail or anything.

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