“You going to answer that?” he asked teasingly.
“No. Let’s go.” I had zero desire to talk to my mother with Hamilton in the room. Besides, I was still avoiding her.
His brows raised. “You aren’t going to change?”
I probably should have, but I was feeling reckless. I shook my head.
“Alright then,” he replied before grabbing my hand and leading me back out of the apartment. I locked the door, and we made our way downstairs and to the parking lot. He kept silent as he let go of my hand and continued walking toward his parked motorcycle and mounting it. With a kick of his leg, the engine started roaring.
I debated walking away. The night air was still warm, but a chill traveled over my skin.
What was I doing?
I tugged at my skirt and got on the back of his bike, holding him close so I could use his body to hide my lacy black panties from the rest of the world. Lacy, black, drenched panties. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek to his muscular back, breathing in the smell of him while I had an excuse to hold him close. When he pulled out of the parking lot, I almost forgot how wrong it was to want Hamilton Beauregard.
7
The venue was a small café just off campus. The moment I walked through the door, I was hit with the stench of pot and sweat. It wasn’t crowded, not in the slightest, but the small stage at the front of the room was overflowing with instruments and wires. It looked like a fire hazard, but no band was on stage yet. Hamilton threaded his fingers through mine. “Come on, let’s get a drink,” he said while pulling me across the warm hardwood floors toward a small bar manned by a dude wearing a crop top.
“A bottle of Pepsi and a scotch on ice, please,” he ordered. I arched my brow, unamused that he’d ordered for me. I absolutely wasn’t going to be drinking tonight; I could barely control myself when I was sober, let alone with some alcohol in my veins. It made me think back to our conversation in his kitchen.
“I’m way too young for you,” I murmured when the bartender slid the vintage glass bottle of Pepsi my way. I clutched it in my palm and took a long, slow sip. The carbonation bubbled down my throat.
“That you are,” Hamilton agreed while taking his glass. “Too young. Too innocent. Too off-limits. I suppose that’s part of the appeal,” he then admitted.
“Here I thought it was my winning personality that had you all in a tizzy,” I replied before crossing my arms over my chest, the cool bottle clutched between my thumb and index finger.
Hamilton slammed some cash on the bar top and guided me toward a far wall with dozens of tiny paintings on it. The eclectic vibe was warm, inviting, and sensual. Soft jazz music was playing through the speakers, and it looked like Jess managed to pull off getting no more than fifteen people into the small space. I people watched for a moment while mulling over Hamilton’s words.
I suppose that’s part of the appeal…
I felt like a fetish, not a date.
Not that I wanted this to be a date. Hamilton didn’t even ask me, he just assumed that this was what we were doing. He leaned over me, his whiskey breath feathering down my neck as he exhaled. “What are you thinking about?”
“This isn’t a kink thing, right? No shame, but if you get off on the idea of fucking your younger niece, then I want no part of it.”
The words left my mouth before I had a chance to filter them. Thank fuck I was only drinking Pepsi. “Oh,” Hamilton replied, a wicked grin on his beautiful face. “So, we’ve graduated to fucking now. Back at your apartment, you didn’t even want a kiss. And I’m pretty sure you’re against the idea of this being a date.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he placed his index finger against my lips, silently quieting my protests. “But now you’re accusing me of fetishizing our dynamic. How interesting.”
I inhaled deeply, wishing the world would swallow me up so I wouldn’t have to see the smug expression on his stupidly perfect face. “I didn’t mean—”
“Of course you meant it. You don’t say anything you don’t mean, do you, Vera? You’re particular about the things you say. About the things you do. The things you want.” He licked his lips and took a sip of his drink. “Tell me, Vera. Did you develop your sense of self-preservation over time, or did you inherit this fear from your mother?”
“Don’t talk about my mother,” I snapped.
Hamilton grinned, as if he were pleased with himself for pushing my buttons. “No,” he finally relented. “You aren’t some kink. I haven’t been jacking off to incestual videos on Pornhub while thinking of you. In fact, I don’t even consider us family. Your poor mother married my asshole brother, yeah. But it’s not like we grew up together. You’re just the beautiful woman that watched me violently fuck someone at my brother’s wedding.” I swallowed at his words, my heart racing with lust and need. “I don’t get off on knowing that you’re ten fucking years younger than me. You’re hot, Vera. I don’t need a reason to want you. It’s not a kink. It’s an attraction that could ruin us both. So, shut up and enjoy the evening before I remember that I’m not supposed to do anything that will harm our family’s precious reputation.”
I needed to say something—anything. Hell, I wanted to lift up on my toes and slam my hungry lips to his. He was right, it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. At the end of the day, I made a promise to myself to never do anything that would hurt my mother. One touch could ruin us. One kiss could end our happy little family.
Lilah Beauregard deserved better, and I had worked far too hard to let everything get fucked up over one pretty boy.
One pretty, dangerous boy.
One pretty, dangerous, twisted, tempting man.
“Hamilton?” a small voice said. “Have you seen Jess?”
I turned to look at the woman walking up to us. She had long green hair, fake lashes that looked like spider legs, and a birthmark right above her upper lip. She wore a short dress that was likely to show off her panties if she bent the wrong way, and her tiny nose was so fucking cute that I wanted to bop it with my finger. “Yeah, she was rounding up a few more people for your show and should be here any minute,” he answered her.
This must be Jess’s girlfriend. She sighed in relief and turned her eyes to me. “Hi,” she began, her voice breathy and high-pitched. “I’m Infinity, Jess’s girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you,” I replied with a smile. “I’m Vera, Hamilton’s…friend.”
Friend was okay, right? It sounded better than being his niece. It was definitely safer than calling myself his date. Especially considering I decided fifteen seconds ago that this couldn’t be a date, regardless of his caveman declarations.
“I’ve heard so much about you. Sorry Jess can be kind of a bitch. I don’t think she knows how to be anything but overprotective,” Infinity admitted. “Hell, my band sucks, but she threatened the owner of this shop to let us play here once a month, and drags everyone she meets to the show.”
Hamilton stammered. “No, that’s not true. We all want to be here. You’re going to be a star,” he lied tragically.