Page 82 of Bona Fide

When we reach a street that I’ve never been down, Reagan scoots up and points to a house with blue shutters and white brick for my driver to stop at.

Opening the car door, I round the truck to let her out, but she’s already outside and halts when she sees me in front of her.

“Now, what are you doing?”

“Walking you to your house.”

Her nose wrinkles, and it's cute as fuck. "I don't need help climbing."

“What if you close-line yourself on top of the fence?”

“Then it’d add on to my already awesome story of sneaking out like the whore I am.” I hit the back fender of the truck, sending my driver to throw the car in drive and take off. “Are you insane?”

The corners of my lips lift. "You haven't noticed?"

She pivots around my body. “You’re not coming in.”

Oh, yes, I am.

“Don’t you have things to do?”

“Don’t ask such an open-ended question, Shelton,” I reply, following her up the driveway of some random person’s house.

My eyes flick down to her ass that Grant probably eye-fucked the whole time they were walking out.

Reagan likes to learn the hard way, apparently, so do I.

When we arrive within the shadows of trees and a wooden privacy fence, I gesture for her to climb on over. “After you.”

Reagan peers up, there is no way her ass is getting over it without some assistance.

She lets out a weighty sigh. “I need a boost.” My smile is immediate as I pull her towards me.

Her chest against my chest, I lower myself, inches from her mouth. "You're not going to plan a thing for the Hardisons, or I'm going to walk out on my front porch and call this whole presidency thing off.”

“You don’t have one,” she mutters, hands splayed on my chest. “And don’t be dumb.”

"Then we'll take off to that island I was telling you about." My fingertips roam up her ribs, extracting a weak shutter from her frame, but I still feel it.

“I have people here that depend on me,” she retorts.

“Does your ma like the sun?”

“Help me up, Lockwood, and stop trying to order me around.”

My fingers insert themselves into the loop of her jeans. “Sounds like you need a favor.”

“Sounds like you want to join me in some bullshit and be kneed in the balls.”

I shrug. “I deserve it.”

"Help. Me. Up." Leveling my knee to the ground, I let my fingers slide down her thighs—innocently, of course.

Standing on my knee with one foot, I place my palms under her ass and stand, pushing up her body weight to get higher on the fence. “Take your time.”

Hoisting a leg over, Reagan has a hold on the top of the fence and jumps. A soft thud lands on the other side, followed by a chuckle.

“You good?” I ask.

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