Bastards and Scapegoats (Twisted Legacy Duet #1) - CoraLee June Page 0,34

Oh, Vera. You’d squirm all over my sheets. I’d hold you down. I’d taste every drop of you. I’d suck on your needy clit until you were grinding my face, pulling my hair and shaking all over.”

“Fuck,” I cursed.

“I’m going to pluck you to pieces. I’m going to chew on your thorns. I’m going to breathe in your sweet scent, clutch you in my fist and ruin you, Petal.”

Why was that the hottest fucking thing anyone had ever said to me? “Petal, huh? You seem to really like that nickname,” I replied.

“I’d really like to fuck you.”

I pictured Hamilton lying on a bed with his muscular arm behind his head and his bare chest rising and falling with every breath. He was probably smirking at me, holding the phone up to his ear while waiting for me to moan into the receiver from his heated words.

I looked back at my bedroom door, thinking of my mother and all she’d sacrificed to give me a good life. I could do this one thing. I could stop entertaining Hamilton’s advances.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything, you know,” Hamilton continued. “It’s just two people with an insane amount of chemistry, enjoying each other’s company. You asked me earlier if I had ever ruined someone’s life,” Hamilton said, his voice soft.

“And?”

“And I think you and I have more in common than I realized,” he admitted. What did that mean?

I let out an exhale. As much fun as that sounded, there was no way in hell Hamilton was worth the risk. “Good night, Hamilton,” I whispered.

I wished I could see his face. I pictured him smiling in triumph, as if he could hear the hesitation in my voice. If I was another girl, I probably would have taken an Uber to his place and let him do all the delightfully dirty things he promised.

But I wasn’t someone else. I was Vera Garner, the bastard daughter of a victim.

9

“You okay, baby?” Mom asked while looking at me over the rim of her cup. She was drinking a decaf latte that was more sugar and milk than anything else. Even with messy hair and the same pajamas from the night before, she looked beautiful. She probably could have modeled if she never had me.

We were sitting in my oversized kitchen and catching up. Mom slept till almost noon, and it wasn’t until Joseph called her cell that she got out of bed. We ate cereal at the kitchen island and slowly processed everything that had happened the night before. “You look so tired,” she added while sweeping her eyes over my face. She was probably more exhausted than I was. She was jet-lagged from her trip to Paris and had to spend all night taking care of me. A pang of guilt rocked through me.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I replied, my cheeks turning crimson at my words as thoughts of what kept me up flooded my mind. It wasn’t Saint plaguing my mind, though it probably should have been. No. I spent most of my evening thinking about Hamilton. True to his word, he got me to stop thinking about the creepy and intrusive journalist who was now stalking me. Instead, I was picturing all the naughty things he spoke about.

His head buried between my thighs.

The scruff of his jaw burning my skin with the coarse movement.

My moans filling the room. His wet tongue lapping me up.

His filthy mouth making me come again and again and…

I swallowed. Mom started talking, jolting me out of thoughts of Hamilton once more. “I can only imagine. This Saint person seems unhinged. What kind of person hounds a family like that?” Mom shook her head and continued speaking. “I’m so sorry that you’ve had to deal with this. I knew things were going to be different when I married Joseph, but I had no idea the paparazzi would be so intense. The Beauregards are well-known in our community, but Jack’s not a fucking Kardashian.”

I bit my tongue. It was only going to get worse—much worse. Joseph wanted to be a career politician. He went to Greenwich University for a double major in political science and business and was too patriotic for my tastes. His conservative platform, family business expertise, and his father’s legacy had set him up for success. Mom might have been in denial about our future, but I knew with complete certainty that this was only the tip of the iceberg. We had to prepare ourselves