Among the private and business matters regarding Blackwell and Stanford, MacCunnen had also arranged a meeting with the director of the CIA. They offered Brandon a job as a security consultant for the White House. With
his impeccable record and skills, they deemed Brandon as a valuable addition to serve in the president’s foreign affairs team. The job wouldn’t require him to travel, so he could spend time with Lillian, and the government’s job benefits were excellent. Brandon jumped at the opportunity at once and he was due to start work in two weeks. But first, he wanted to take Lillian on some sightseeing and fun. Visiting his mom and his brother in Tennessee. With a lot of sex in between.
Speaking about sex, he hadn’t had a chance to get his hands on her since the love hotel in Tokyo. They were always surrounded by people. Lillian’s uncle, grandma, family and the dreadful lawyers. That one week they’d spent in London had felt like a circus tour. Lillian always teased him for a quickie, but he didn’t want the risk of getting caught. It was different being caught in flagrante delicto by strangers, but when someone you knew caught you red-handed with your pants down, things could get messy.
But tonight, he hoped he would get lucky. He’d been hard ever since they’d arrived at the airport. General MacCunnen had unexpectedly given him an advance to help him settle with his new job in Washington. While Lillian napped in their hotel room, he’d sneaked out to buy an engagement ring. He planned to ask her tonight.
Brandon elbowed his way through people on the dance floor. Boy, did Lillian love to dance until she finally had to go to the bathroom. He wanted to get her then take her onto the rooftop of Mirage’s. He thought proposing to a woman under the moonlight was very romantic. And the Mirage’s new rooftop café was open all night.
Perfect.
He waited in front of the ladies restroom impatiently. Brandon glanced at his watch. It’d been twenty minutes. What could she possibly be doing in there for twenty minutes? Women. Brandon decided to push the door and entered.
The ladies bathroom was almost as dim as the dance floor, except for the sink area. No one in there except Lillian. He saw her putting on her lipstick when he came in. Her long hair was braided on each side. Her black mini-dress hung just below her hips and the five-inch stilettos she wore made his erection become painful. Her eyes widened and a mischievous smile plastered her face when she saw him coming.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” she teased.
Brandon snatched her slim waist and planted a light kiss on top of her head. “Let’s go. This place is giving me a headache.”
“It’s not this place that gave you a headache, Brandon-chan. It’s your hard-on.” To make matters worse, the naughty girl groped his crotch and squeezed his erection. “Am I right?”
Brandon cursed. Heat surged to his head. His arousal had turned into full-blown need. “Let’s go back to the hotel, then.”
“Already? But you promised me you’d take me to a barbeque place.”
“Well, in that case.” Brandon pushed open a bathroom stall and pulled Lillian in.
A woman entered the restroom, frowning.
“Hey!” She pointed a finger at him. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Get bent.” Brandon slammed the stall door closed and locked it.
Lillian held in her laugh. Her eyes twinkled naughtily. He turned her around and pushed her flat against the wall. The stall was a little cramped for both of them, but he managed. Her body shivered with excitement when he felt her all over. A small whimper came out of her mouth when he kissed the nape of her neck. God. She smelled so damn good. Her perfume, mingled with perspiration and her own natural scent, made his cock throb even harder.
“Miss me?” she asked.
“Hell yeah. Missed you a lot.” He groped her inner thighs and slid his hands upward to cup her pussy. He was pleasantly surprised when he found her damp. “Miss me, too?”
“Good guess, Sherlock. I think women need to get laid on a regular basis just like men do, you know?”
Brandon snorted. “Minx.”
“Beast.”
She got that part right. He had difficulty controlling his primal lust each time she teased him. Brandon hiked up her mini dress. His gaze slid down. Goddamn. He didn’t know she was wearing a thong. A G-string to be exact. The black, lacy too-skimpy-to-be-called-panties contraption looked deliciously tempting against her smooth, alabaster skin. Brandon yanked her G-string down. It fell around her ankles. With his knee, he pushed her legs apart and slid a hand directly onto her sex. Fuck. She was moistened. Lillian moaned when he parted her pussy lips and thrust two fingers into her cunt. Her pussy instinctively clasped around his knuckles. Wickedly hot and wet. God, he loved it.
Lillian whimpered as he finger fucked her. She craned her neck sideways, wanting his kiss. Brandon was more than happy to oblige. Her lips tasted sweet, laced with the orange soda she’d been drinking. He pried her mouth open with his tongue and devoured her. Kittenish mewls curled out from her throat. Her nails scraped against the wall. Her pussy tightened, gripping his fingers harder. Brandon broke the kiss. Her warm juice wetted his palm.
“Fuck me, please.”
Her plea served like a burning match to gasoline. His cock was so hard it hurt.
“Babe,” he breathed out, “you don’t know how much I want to do just that.” Brandon withdrew his fingers and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free.
“Oh.”
Lillian shivered when he ground his cock on the swell of her ass. His cock pulsed. He positioned the tip at her opening and sank himself into her until his thatch grazed her perineum. Her mewls sharpened.