Secrets, Lies & Imperfections

by Pamela L. Todd

  Giving her a carefree grin to try to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the room, I took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t be. It wasn’t your fists that were in a fury. He’s over it now.”

  “Are you?”

  Her question startled me. Was I over it? Deep down, I’d never thought Blake would ever lay a hand on me. It was an extreme set of circumstances, and really, shouldn’t I be shocked that it had only happened once?

  “I wouldn’t be, either,” Marley said quietly.

  I shook my head and gave her a more sincere smile. “It’s done. And when my face goes back to its usual color, it’ll be forgotten.”

  “I bet he feels awful about it.”

  “His head is too full of other stuff to be worrying about me and my feelings.”

  Marley glanced at me quickly. “How is he, Seth?”

  The words were already forming on my tongue to tell her just how shitty my brother was. How devastated he’d been last night, how broken he’d been this morning. She probably needed to know—needed to hear that her departure had affected him in some way at least. But I’d learned my lesson when it came to getting in the middle of these two warring lovebirds…current favor notwithstanding.

  “Ask him.”

  She glared at me. “You’re not going to tell me anything?”

  I grinned. “Nope.”

  “You suck. Seriously.”

  “So I hear. Well, as lovely as this pity party has been, I’m going to bail. I have a club to run and patrons to intoxicate.”

  Marley rose from her chair and walked me to the door. “Thanks for my things, Seth. I really do appreciate it.”

  Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pulled her in for a tight hug. “No problem. You can return the favor by not staying gone too long. Deal?”

  She snorted a laugh. “You’re such a jackass.”

  I kissed the top of her head and let her go. “I might be a jackass, but you’re being an idiot. Call me if you need anything.”

  Marley rolled her eyes and shooed me out the door. “Goodbye, Seth.”

  She closed the door behind me and I had to wonder if she would take my advice. Neither of them wanted to be apart, not really. And now everything was out in the open they could finally move past it and work on what they had. The only thing now standing in their way was pride and stubbornness.

  I just prayed to whatever god would listen that they got over themselves sooner rather than later, before time had the chance to create too big a divide between them.

  I needed them to work.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Tuesday had never been so appealing. The days dragged by before it was finally here, and now that it was, I was a bundle of energy, despite being bone-tired and mentally exhausted. Marley and Blake were still at a stalemate, and neither of them appeared as if they would change anytime soon. Every night that I saw Marley in the club, she looked worse—sallow skin, huge bags under her eyes. She’d even lost weight.

  Blake fared no better. His mood was no longer murderous, but quiet and withdrawn. I had seen him only a couple of times when we happened to pass each other like ships in the night. He was spending more and more time at his office, throwing himself into whatever he was working on.

  I wanted to bang their goddamn heads together.

  But now it was Tuesday, and I had a night with Cassidy to look forward to. I hopped on the balls of my feet as the elevator took its sweet time in taking me to her floor. This time it wasn’t the friendly roommate who answered the door, but my girl herself.

  Cassidy’s smile widened as she held open the door for me, looking fresh and carefree with a high ponytail and yellow sundress. The effect was like finally feeling the sun after spending years in the cold.

  “So, I thought we could go for ice cream. I know a place on Fremont Street that does the best… What?” What was about to be a stellar sales pitch on exactly why we should get ice cream was cut short when her smile dropped and her face hardened.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  I looked down at myself, but saw nothing offensive. “What?”

  Cassidy took two quick steps toward me and yanked my face to the side. “That!” She poked the bruise on my jaw that had faded to a delicious greenish yellow.

  Oh. That. I shrugged. “I told you, Blake was pissed the night Marley walked out.”

  “So he hit you? What the fuck, Seth?”

  I stroked her cheek, wanting to rub away the expression on her face. Her eyes raked over my face, as though trying to find more evidence of Blake’s bad mood. Intuition told me that if she did find something, things would not end well for my swinging-happy brother. “It’s fine, Cass. I pissed him off. It was my own fault.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down. “The saddest thing is you really believe that. You really believe the reason he hit you is your own fault.”

  I’d never had someone be protective of me before. I was Seth Hamilton—Seth fucking Hamilton—happy-go-lucky, least serious douche on the planet. No one protected me. People laughed with me. I didn’t need protecting. But here was Cass, all five-foot-six of her, spitting liking an angry kitten and ready to take on the world, all for my injustice.

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, I pulled her into my body and touched my lips to her temple. “You can nurse me back to my gorgeous self later. But first, please, please, can we go get some ice cream? I’ve been craving one all day and it’s driving me nuts.”

  Cassidy huffed and pushed away from me. “Sure, Seth. God forbid we have a real conversation.”

  Well, shit if that didn’t make my stomach twist into a painful knot. Was that what I was doing—deflecting so I didn’t have to deal with the situation? Seth the joker, Seth the playboy, Seth the overprivileged snot. It was easier to be those things than it was to be a guy who shared the real thoughts in his head…real fears and real hurts.

  But God help me, I wanted to be Seth the guy in a relationship with Cassidy a hell of a lot more than I wanted to be Seth the loneliest guy in the world. I couldn’t brush things off with her and not expect her to react. Hell, I should be thankful that she was reacting—that she cared enough to be pissed on my behalf.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, and probably the most sincerely I had ever said those two words. “I’m not trying to be a dick—”

  “I know. It just comes naturally,” Cassidy threw over her shoulder as she picked up her purse. The teasing glint in her eyes softened the words, and I knew that she only partly meant them. Fuck, I loved that smart mouth.

  “Of course it does,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Playing things down, laughing them off, it’s like my default setting, you know?”

  She nodded after a moment, a tiny crease pinching between her eyebrows. “I get it. But you don’t have to do that shit with me, okay? In fact, I’ll kick your ass if you even try.”

  A grin spread across my face and I stepped toward her. “You’re so fucking cute. Come here.”

  Cassidy laughed and took a step back. “I scold you and your response is to want to kiss me? You’re nuts.”

  “Whatever you do, my response is to want to kiss you. But I like you all feisty, even if you are threatening to kick my ass.” I reached out to wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug her back to me. She came willingly and I slid my hands into her hair, cradling the base of her skull and tipping her head back so I could get better access to that smart mouth.

  “I thought you wanted ice cream,” Cass whispered, her breath fanning across my face.

  “I want this more,” I murmured before lowering my lips to hers. Cassidy gave a little sigh, as though she needed the relief of the kiss as much as I did. The humor was gone now. My tongue met hers and there was nothing teasing about it. She pushed her body into mine, her dress so thin I could feel her hardened nipples rub against my chest. I groaned low in my throat and kissed her harder, deeper, as if I couldn’t get enough. Could never get enough.

  I wanted this girl like
I’d never wanted anything in my life. Not just her body—though I was beginning to doubt that obsession would ever lessen—but her…every little part that made her Cassidy. And the only thing stronger than that want, that ultimate desire, was for her to want to be mine.

  Cassidy flattened her palm against my stomach and inched it down until she cupped my erection through my jeans. She gave me a squeeze and I jerked. “My room. Now.”

  Fuck, I hate roommates.

  With a groan of what I took as frustration, Cassidy ripped away from me. She grabbed my hand and all but ran down the hall to her bedroom. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who disliked that we couldn’t be spontaneous. She slammed the door shut behind us and pulled her dress over her head. With no bra, her tits bounced with the action and my blood roared.

  I backed her up against the wall, both of us breathing hard. Cassidy fumbled with my belt and shoved my jeans and underwear down so fast I pulled my hips back when she almost took my dick with them.

  Cassidy curled her fingers around my hard length, squeezing the root so I groaned and pushed into her grasp. I tugged her panties down and she kicked them off, lifting one leg to wrap it around my hip. I sought the heat at the apex of her thighs.

  Christ, she was ready…so fucking ready for me. I pushed two fingers inside her pussy, her wet flesh clenching around me, demanding more. She trembled against my touch, her breaths coming faster and faster as I worked her with my hand.

  She moaned and urged me closer with her leg, sliding her hand up and down my dick in a smooth, torturous rhythm. I gritted my teeth as I circled her clit with my thumb. Cassidy cried out and when I felt her inner muscles ripple I pumped her harder, faster, urging her orgasm on.

  “I need you in me,” Cassidy said in a breathy moan. “Now.”

  I glanced to her nightstand, where I guessed she kept her condoms. Gritting my teeth, I summoned all my strength to move away from her hot body, just for a few seconds.

  Cassidy locked her leg around me tighter, as though sensing my departure. “I’m good, are you?”

  A few days after getting back to Vegas, I got myself checked out. I’d been careful while traveling, but still, a guy can never be too cautious. “I’m good,” I said, my voice rough with need. Jesus, just the thought of being inside her with no barriers…it made my chest swell with masculine pride.

  I grasped her other thigh and lifted her in my arms, pinning her to the wall with my body. Cassidy’s chest rose and fell in quick succession as I positioned myself at her entrance. Our eyes locked as I eased into her, going achingly slowly, even though all I wanted to do was slam into her. Cassidy swallowed and gripped my shoulders, leaning forward to capture my mouth as I began to move inside her.

  Holding her hips, I pulled out almost to the tip and thrust back in as deeply as I could go. She fitted around me like a glove, custom-made just for me, like this thing between us had always been inevitable.

  My restraint was gone. I was going crazy, lost in a lust-fueled frenzy that could only be created by Cassidy. I groaned, a low guttural sound, as I pounded into her. Cassidy tightened her grip on me and took what I gave her, her cries growing more hoarse with each thrust.

  “Come with me, Cass, I’m so fucking close,” I growled.

  “I’m there,” she panted, clinging to me as I pulled a second orgasm from her body.

  I came hard, ferociously hard, with a bellow, the veins in my throat corded to the point I thought they would snap. My body shuddered, muscles quivered. Cassidy’s warm, sweet flesh rippled around me, as deliciously spent and overwhelmed as I was.

  Pressing my face into the crook of her neck, I let out a heavy breath, not quite ready to release her yet. Cassidy made a contented noise in the back of her throat, almost fucking purring.

  “Just so you know, I’m not planning on letting you go. Ever,” I said, my voice low and gravelly.

  Cassidy’s breath hitched. “Good thing I kind of like having you around then.”

  My lips curled into a smile, my heart still not back to its regular rhythm.

  * * * *

  Ice cream from Cherry Pie was fucking amazing. A regular old-school parlor with dozens upon dozens of flavors, toppings, sauces and combinations. It was like a sugar addict’s wet dream. And by sugar addict, I meant Cassidy.

  Girl had a sweet tooth like I couldn’t believe.

  She went for a double-scoop waffle cone with peanut butter crunch and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, crushed Oreos on top and fudge sauce smothering the entire sickly creation. It made my gut hurt just looking at it. But it put this gleeful, about-to-jump-up-and-down-on-the-spot smile that meant I’d bring her back to Cherry’s every goddamn day for the rest of my life just to see it again.

  We left Cherry’s with our ice creams—mine a more conservative lemon sherbet and raspberry sauce—and strolled downtown. Cassidy slipped her free hand into mine as if she didn’t even think about it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to her. It made something in my chest lurch with both affection and gratitude toward this girl who seemed to, after everything, accept me…warts and all. Or, douchebaginess and all. I doubted she’d ever know how incredible that felt. For someone to want me for me. No conditions.

  Just acceptance.

  I squeezed her hand a fraction and she looked up at me with her eyebrows lifted high in excitement as she worked that ice cream like a boss. “So the key to your heart is ice cream?”

  She giggled. “I think it might just be.”

  “I love that place. My dad used to take me on a Saturday sometimes if he had the time, which wasn’t all that often, really. But it was fucking awesome when he did.”

  “What’s he like, your dad?” Cassidy asked, zeroing her attention in on the food like it was her prey about to escape.

  I snorted a laugh. “Busy.”

  “You’ve never told me anything about him.” She glanced at me, her eyebrows drawing together a fraction as though she wasn’t going to let me off the hook without answering—and a decent answer—no half-assed vague crap.

  Blowing out a breath, I wondered how one went about describing the legend that was Anthony Hamilton. In a way, it was almost refreshing to have someone be so clueless about my family. I’d grown up under a neon spotlight where everyone knew the legacy of the Hamiltons.

  “He’s in the hotel and casino business.”

  “Oh? Would I know any?”

  I rattled off a handful of Dad’s…larger ventures.

  Cassidy stopped walking, ice cream poised halfway to her mouth. “Holy shit, are you serious?”

  “As a jackpot, baby.”

  “Fuck me… So, that night that we won’t ever talk about, you really weren’t being arrogant, were you? Jesus, you must be worth a fucking fortune…” Cassidy took a step away from me, eyebrows pulling even closer together in disbelief. “And I’m a—”

  I knew that look. Hadn’t ever seen it, but I knew it nonetheless. It’s counterpart, however, I knew very well. People fell into one of three categories when it came to wealth. Acceptance, like Jimmy, Hank and Mike, who didn’t give a shit where the decimal point was in my bank balance. Opportunity, and I have to admit, this one went both ways, with me cashing in on how women responded to a wealthy playboy, and women flaunting their assets my way hoping I’d share some of mine. And inferiority, where someone would fall out of my life, feeling intimidated and unworthy because of whatever bullshit social standing I had over them. Which was what was all over Cass’ face right now.

  Taking one big step toward her, I cradled the back of her head with one hand and clashed my mouth against hers. She gasped, and when her lips parted I slid my tongue inside, filling her mouth with me until she couldn’t think about anything else.

  “I don’t ever want to see that fucking look again,” I growled, my lips still on hers. “Don’t you ever get it into your head, even for a second, that you aren’t good enough for someone, Cass. Jesus, I’m the one who’s out of my league here. Not
you. Got it?”

  Cassidy made a low sound of need in her throat and pressed into me. “I know I say it a lot, but jeez, Hamilton, you really have a way with words.”

  “As long as they’re the right ones, I couldn’t give a shit,” I said, laughing. I kissed her once, twice, and released my hold on her.

  She blew out an unsteady breath and resumed her devouring of the ice cream. “Must have been nice growing up with that kind of money, huh? I bet your family never had to worry about anything.”

  I shrugged. There were ups and downs to any situation, I guess. “We never struggled for anything, if that’s what you mean. I went to private school, didn’t have to worry about college debt. But I never really took advantage of the situation either.” Nor did anyone look beyond the dollar signs to see what wealth cost us as a family. My dad was gone way more than any other dad I knew. The stress my mother put herself under to make sure she always looked perfect—God forbid the wife of Anthony Hamilton be seen as anything less than perfect. The level of distrust that came with meeting anyone new.

  I’d made my peace more or less with how our family was. I liked that I wasn’t money hungry or as ambitious as my father. But what I saw as positive traits, my family saw as shortcomings.

  Cassidy tapped my ass, bringing me back to our conversation. “So I gather. How long have you had these jeans?”

  I flashed her a grin and chased the maudlin thoughts from my mind. Her hand on my ass, or any body part for that matter, was all I needed to chase away any kind of negativity. “Since high school. I’m not a materialistic guy, Cass. That sort of thing never interested me.”

  She laced her fingers with mine again as we started walking, a contemplative look on her face. “I hate to keep pushing, but I have to ask. Is the distance you have from your family’s money part of the reason you get such a hard time from them? They see your lack of interest as laziness to succeed at anything?”

  I slanted a look in her direction. “You are way too perceptive for your own good. Have you seriously never considered mental health nursing? You’re wasted in the ER.”