by Coralee June
Hamilton looked completely and utterly fucked, his hair glossy from traveling all day, and a shadow of facial hair covered his jaw. He was leaning against the doorjamb when I peered through the peephole to make sure that it was him on the other side.
“Open up, Petal. It’s me.”
Little Mama was wagging her tail at my side and whining to see Hamilton. With a steadying breath, I unlocked the door and twisted the knob.
“Fuckkkk,” he rasped at the sight of me. I was wearing tattered leggings and a cropped sweatshirt that showed off a sliver of my stomach. My hair was a mess of tangles and was still damp from the long shower I indulged in earlier.
“I’m literally in my pajamas. Stop acting like I answered the door in lingerie,” I said with a slow roll of my eyes before looking him up and down once more. His shirt was wrinkled. His jeans were tight. The scuffed boots on his feet looked masculine and eclectic.
“I’ll stop undressing you with my eyes when you stop undressing me with yours,” he teased before dropping his duffel bag and wrapping me up in a bone-crushing hug.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed this. The moment his arms wrapped around me, I felt some of the ice in my veins melt with white-hot emotion. My eyes burned with unshed tears. He felt like safety. I nuzzled against his chest while holding on to him for dear life. My body trembled from the warmth rolling off of him. I’d never been hugged like this before. “I’m so sorry, Vera. I didn’t want this for you.”
I shook my head and reluctantly pulled away. “Why are you apologizing?” I asked. “It’s not your fault.”
Hamilton swallowed and picked up his duffel bag before walking inside. Little Mama waddled after him with the cutest grin. She whined and wiggled as he crouched down to pet and cuddle with her. Watching them together made my heart warm. “Has anyone bothered you?” Hamilton asked me before standing.
“Other than the ten calls from my mother and Jared’s constant knocking on my door, no.”
I let out a sigh and walked up to Hamilton. Being around him was like taking a straight shot of serotonin and adrenaline. I tried. I really tried to hate him. I should have probably felt awkward with him. I wasn’t expecting him to come to my rescue—a shining knight on a red-eye flight, with whiskey on his breath. There was something about Hamilton that just made me feel comfortable. When I wasn’t ridiculously turned on by him, I was enjoying the ease we had with one another. It was like he just understood me. It was a feeling I hadn’t ever experienced with anyone before.
But these moments of genuine connection felt fragile—as if they were written on lined paper easily ripped out of one’s journal. Torn to shreds. Burned to ash.
“What are we doing, Hamilton?” I asked while crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against my kitchen island. He smiled at me, as if expecting my question.
“Well. For starters, I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee because I’m running on about three hours of sleep on a shitty, crowded plane.”
I nodded. Not exactly where I was going with this, but Hamilton liked to dance around things. His playful and carefree persona ate up all the air in the room. I felt wound up while waiting for the crash. “And then what?”
“Then I’m going to double-check your locks. I’m going to call the police to see if they have any leads on Saint. I’m going to take my dog on a walk and unpack.”
“Unpack?”
For the first time since arriving, he looked unsure. I had started to catch his little nuances now. The casual way he averted his gaze when he wasn’t sure what to say. He coughed back whatever truth he wanted to spill. “Yeah. Apparently, you’ve made my dog love you more than me. I figure the only way we can share custody is if I stay here for a little bit.”
I smiled as he sauntered over to me, his own mouth curved playfully into a smirk. “I see,” I whispered.
“And I want you to feel safe, Vera,” he whispered. “And I want to spend time with you. Is that okay? I’m not moving in, so don’t start writing my name next to yours in your diary, okay?”
I shook my head playfully. “The Hamilton Beauregard doesn’t do relationships, huh?”
He cupped my chin. I wore exhaustion like a second skin. The dark circles under my eyes didn’t deter him, though. He then spoke. “The Hamilton Beauregard cares only about himself about ninety-nine percent of the time. He’s selfish. Abrasive. Static. Detached. He breaks hearts without a single fuck and takes what he wants.”
I stared up at him as he spoke so poorly about himself. I thought about his best friend, Jess. I thought about the dog he rescued. I thought about Jack, a confusing man who craved a relationship with his son. I thought about his long trip here to comfort a girl he was just starting to know.
“Whatever you say,” I replied with a shake of my head. I was too tired to argue with him, and his perceptions of himself were deep-rooted. I didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself that he was bad news or me, but either way, I didn’t care.
“I’m serious, Vera.”
“So am I, Hamilton,” I replied before casually wrapping my arms around his neck and lifting up on my toes to kiss his jaw. The tender and light brush of my lips on his rough skin sent shivers down my spine. Having him here, I almost forgot about my mother’s lies and the pressures of being a Beauregard. We were all alone. No one was here to tell me that this was wrong. Saint wasn’t lurking in the corners of my apartment, looking for a story.
He cleared his throat and licked his lips, his tongue clipping my cheek in the process. Another shiver passed through me as I curled my body against his, aching to be closer. “I should get that coffee, huh?” he questioned.
“Get whatever you want,” I whispered back before running my hand through his hair and breathing him in.
He gripped my ass and pulled me closer, his movements slow and tentative. I’d never experienced this side of Hamilton. It was like something now was holding him back. I didn’t understand it. Was he uninterested now because there wasn’t a chase? Did he only like things that run?
“I’m going to get that coffee and shower. I want you, Vera, but not while my dick smells like airport. And you need to rest. I came here to take care of you.”
I pulled away, my eyes heavy as I licked my lips. “And why is that? If you’re as selfish and detached as you claim, why are you here?” I boldly questioned him.
He let out a sigh and averted his dark gaze from mine. “I don’t know.”
He finally pushed away from me and went to make himself a pot of coffee. I watched his back, with Little Mama at my feet as he went through my cabinets, searching for coffee filters. “I’m going to try and sleep,” I whispered. We weren’t going to get anywhere at this time. He was here, though. He was really here. That had to mean something. All of this had to mean fucking something.
“Good. You look like shit, Vera. Seriously. You need some rest.”
I rolled my eyes. “Keys are hanging by the door if you leave. The couch pulls out into a bed.”
I padded away from him and to my door, pausing when I heard him curse under his breath. I turned to see what had him worked up and frowned when he pulled out his cell phone and angrily answered it.
“Stop calling me. I’m done.” He ended the call and slammed his palm down on the counter.
What the fuck was that about?
I couldn’t sleep. My phone kept going off with texts from my mother, and knowing Hamilton was in my apartment but so emotionally distant created a dissonance in my mind. There was so much against us. Our families. Public opinion. My desire to do right by my mom. His own issues with relationships. At first, it was easy to put him into a category of chemistry and physical needs. It’s easy to justify something if it’s just carnal acts to get off to.
But he showed up today. He kept showing up.
I heard my door open. My heart raced. The mattress dipped beside me. Warmth slipped under the duvet covers, and strong arms wrapped around me. “You done pretending to be asleep?” Hamilton as
ked. He smelled like my citrus shower gel. It was oddly feminine on his impossibly masculine body.
“Are you done pretending you’re selfish and that this is only fucking?” I asked.
“Oh, so we’re fucking now?” Hamilton asked in a whisper, his lips hovering over my ear as he shifted his hand and moved to cup my breasts. I let out a gasp when he pinched my nipple and lightly twisted it. Arching my back, I pressed my ass against his groin.
“You know what I mean,” I choked out.
“I don’t think I do, Petal. Tell me.”
I reached behind me and grabbed his hard cock through his sweats. His bare chest pressed harder against my back as he let out a startled hiss as my long fingers wrapped around his girth. I felt powerful in that moment. I had him by the dick. “We have chemistry,” I said before stroking him. He continued to knead my breast while kissing my neck. “I want you, Hamilton. We could fuck right now. Get the tension out of the air and go back to living our individual lives.”
He stopped kissing me and grabbed my wrist, pulling me away from his hard cock. I waited for him to say something, but instead, he flipped me on my back and straddled me. I looked up at his sharp expression, like a knife cutting through the tension. He grabbed both my wrists and pinned them to the mattress above my head. “You think we can just fuck each other out of our systems, Petal?” he asked, his voice a dangerous, low timbre.
“Isn’t that what you want?”
He leaned over and scraped his teeth along my collarbone. “Why do we have to be anything, hmm?”
“Because I could very well lose my only family if we cross this line.”
“So, what? You want me to fuck you and leave?”
“I want you to be worth it, Hamilton,” I whispered. He stalled and shot up to stare at me.
“You don’t think I’m worth it?” There it was. The crack. The break. The thing that kept Hamilton trying. That tragic need for approval from the people we cared about buried deep in our souls.
“I know you have the potential to be more than worth it, Hamilton. If we’re doing this, don’t half ass it. Don’t just make it some bullshit one-night stand where we both have fun, but it ends there. I want something real. Don’t catch a last-minute flight here to make sure I’m okay, then push me away. Don’t hurt me, Hamilton.”
He lifted the edge of my shirt up, pulling it over my head. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip while watching him take in the sight of me. Fuck. “I won’t half ass this,” he whispered before taking my heavy breast in his mouth and swirling his tongue around my nipple. I practically lifted off the bed. My body was completely fucking wrecked. Heat traveled through my limbs. Sticky wet need coated my thighs. He pulled away and gripped the band of my leggings. “This won’t be a one-night stand.”
He jerked my pants down, taking my pink thong with them. A rush of cold air flooded my exposed skin before he was there. Licking. Sucking. Tasting. I moaned and writhed on the bed. I cried out his name.
I came.
Hamilton wiped his lips with my inner thigh as little aftershocks rocked through me. He sat up. “This can be real, Petal. I won’t push you away.”
He undressed slowly. I watched his movements. I watched him dig in the pockets of his gray sweats and pull out a condom. Did he know it would lead to this? Did he know I ached for him?
He rolled on the rubber. He climbed on top of me. He spread my legs. I felt stripped bare as he positioned himself at my entrance and tugged on the loose strands of my hair. His hand clamped around my neck, then his body surged forward and impaled me with his cock. I stretched. I screamed. I slowly eased into the fullness that was Hamilton Fucking Beauregard.
“You’re so goddamn tight. You okay, Petal?”
I gripped his forearm with one hand and grabbed his hip with the other, urging him to move. I couldn’t tell him I was alright. I wasn’t exactly sure if I was.
Hamilton made me feel fucking dirty.
And I treasured it.
In and out. He pounded into me. I was a writhing puddle of need. Crashing. Falling.
Breaking. I was breaking.
Sweat clung to his brow. My nightlight, meant to illuminate my fears, cast shadows on his glistening skin.
We didn’t inch toward completion. No.
We raced to that finish line with our muscles spent, our bodies exploding from the tension. I came hard and raw and with everything I had.
Hamilton stared at me, his eyes wide with wonder as I fell apart. Thrusting. Thirsting. Fucking. Pumping. Something close to loving—but not quite.
He collapsed on top of me. Orgasms had the power to clear a person’s mind. I wasn’t thinking about the what ifs. I wasn’t worried about what people were going to say. I just felt him growing soft inside me. Breathing on top of me. Kissing my skin with wordless thank yous.
But my subconscious was whispering something. Something I wanted to ignore.
He never said he wouldn’t hurt you.
17
Hot breath feathered down my neck. Sweat dripped at my hairline. Warm limbs tangled up. Salty soft skin. Light snores. Bliss.
A hard knock on my door made my eyes shoot open. “Who the fuck is here?” Hamilton groaned. I was too exhausted. We spent all night twisted up in one another, working through this fatal attraction we shared. Even now, as I lay naked in my bed, with his dried cum between my thighs and a hickey on my neck, I craved him again.
“Ignore them,” I mumbled.
His hand was wrapped around my stomach, the tip of his fingers edging toward my pussy. He moved them lower—slower. The touch was slightly teasing but also calculative and full of promise.
Even in his sleepy state, Hamilton moved with intention.
The knocking continued. “For fuck’s sake,” Hamilton growled before pulling his hand back. No!
With one move, he shoved the warm duvet off of his side of the bed, and a rush of air fluttered over my skin. He sat up and rolled out of bed before stomping out of my room. It took me another moment to realize he was buck naked and headed toward my front door. I shot out of bed and grabbed some clothes just as Jared’s voice boomed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Shit. I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation first thing in the morning, especially when I was so close to having yet another orgasm to start my day. Hamilton liked tossing out pleasure like it was candy on Halloween.
I tripped while putting on my sweatpants and ran toward my front door with my thin, oversized green shirt slipping off my shoulder and my wild brown hair bouncing with every step. “Can you just get the fuck out of here already? We were sleeping, man. Who comes over at nine a.m. on a Saturday?”
“Yeah. I can fucking see that you both were sleeping,” Jared growled. “How old are you even, bro? Thirty? Isn’t Vera a bit young for you? Or is that part of this whole kink?” I frowned when I saw them both in the entryway. Hamilton was as naked as the day he was born, not even bothering to cup his junk. Bruises in the shape of my lips covered his body. Scratches ran down his back. His glossy skin looked angry and red.
And his fists were clenched.
Jared was the complete opposite, with his freshly showered hair slicked back. His polo tucked into his khaki pants. He looked crisp and clean. “Vera,” he breathed out. Disappointment dripped from his tone. I forced a smile.
“Hamilton, why don’t you go get some clothes on?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m good,” he snapped. “Jared here was just asking me about my kinks. Should we tell him how you begged me to bend you over the edge of the mattress? I pounded your pussy until you nearly blacked out from your tenth orgasm, didn’t I, Petal?” He turned to Jared once more and sarcastically shrugged before placing his index finger to his plump lip. “I mean. Since you want to talk about my kinks, I like choking her, Jared. Do you know how to make a woman come when she’s on the brink of passing out? Do you know the right amount of pressure? Do you know how her creamy ass looks when it’s marked up with my handprint?�
�� Hamilton was on a roll today. I guess he wanted to have a dick measuring contest. Fucking hell.
“Don’t disrespect her like that!” Jared yelled.
“Jared, it’s fine,” I said softly.
“It’s not fine, Vera. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I didn’t realize he was coming over. Or staying the night.” Jared shuffled on his feet. I had just realized he was holding something. “I got us bagels. Figured we could go to the park and decompress? The article was taken down.”
“What?” Hamilton asked.
Jared ignored him and continued to speak directly to me. “I guess your grandfather had the piece removed. People aren’t really talking about it. It’s like everyone has been told not to.”
Hamilton ran his fingers through his hair and let out a huff. “Yeah. I’m going to go put some clothes on,” he murmured before raising his voice. “Keep your dainty little hands to yourself, lover boy.”
Hamilton stalked off, his abrupt departure making me wince. What was he upset about? I hadn’t asked Jared to come over, and it wasn’t like we were dating or anything. I’d made it very clear that Jared was just a friend. An annoying friend that I seriously needed to establish better boundaries with. “So, the article is gone?”
“Gone. I asked the building manager and campus security to keep an eye out for Saint. If they see him on campus, they’ll arrest him on the spot.”
“Wow, Jared. Thank you for checking up on all of that for me,” I whispered before looking down at my toes. This was awkward. Very awkward. “I’ll call you later—”
“Did you really fuck him?” Jared asked. “Or was he just saying that to rattle me?”
The question caught me off guard. “What? You’re going to make me say it out loud?” Couldn’t Jared see? I mean Hamilton answered the door stark naked.
“Did you fuck your uncle, Vera?”
I gaped at him. “Yeah. She did,” Hamilton answered for me while walking back into the room. He was shirtless, and the jogging pants he wore were slung low on his hips. Beside him, Little Mama was wiggling and whining to go outside. “Do you want the dirty details, you kinky fucker?”