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Mr. President

Page 359

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Just as I'm about to sit back down on the couch and try and forget about Lorna for the night, I hear a knock on the door.

I hope she isn't back for another round.

I open the door.

And I see her … it's Becca.

But she looks different. There's a suspicious look to her eyes.

174

Becca

I shouldn't be here at his apartment. Every fiber in my brain is telling me that I should just turn the other direction and walk away.

No, I should probably run away.

As far away from Mason and my mother as I can get.

If I have half an ounce of common sense in my head I won't go any deeper. I'll cut my losses and tell myself it was what it was—a very hot, passionate affair with an older man who just happens to be my stepdad.

But that's if I had any common sense.

That's if I could make myself forget how hot he made me when he held me. How excited I got when my hand wrapped around his hard shaft. How I felt him grow in my hand. How I made him hard.

Sure, he's a playboy. I knew that going into it.

He's 16 years older than me. I can do the math.

But the times that we've been together, when he's taken control of my body—owned it and used it for his pleasure—can never be forgotten.

I can't forget his cock inside of me, stretching me out.

I can't forget seeing his eyes roll back into his head when I put him in my mouth and run my tongue up and down his shaft.

When I pumped him repeatedly.

When I licked his tip.

When I made him cum.

Oh God, when he came. It's almost as hot as when I think back to how he makes me cum.

See where my mind has gone? See what's happened?

No, I'm definitely not thinking with my brain.

I'm thinking with my clit.

Is that even possible for a woman to do? I've heard of guys who think with their cocks, but women are supposed to be smarter than that, aren't they? I mean, your husband or your boyfriend, babe. You're way smarter than him, right?

So why am I standing here then like a ridiculous deer looking at headlights?

I mean, thank God Mom didn't see me as she walked off. She was walking

the other direction, but she was too busy straightening her clothes out to notice anything.

Mason recognized me though.



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