by Hamel, B. B.
“Grace, you bitch!”
Jody gives me an apologetic look. “Good luck.” She gets up and walks off, heading to her first patient of the day.
Teresa, my closest friend in the city, walks over to me with the most pissed-off look on her face I’ve ever seen.
She has dark hair and dark eyes and pretty tan skin. She’s gorgeous really, but she’s always wearing the frumpiest clothes, like she can hide her killer body under a big sweater. It makes her look like a sexy homeless girl sometimes, which is maybe what she’s going for. Today she’s wearing mismatched scrubs one size too big and crocs that are held together with duct tape.
“I swear to god, either Angie is a lying cunt, or you’re dead.”
I wince a little. “Patients are here, Teresa. Relax.”
She glares at me and I swear she’s going to hit me. “Are you seriously married?”
“Yes,” I say. “Okay? Yes! I got married.”
She stands there, staring at me, before her face breaks down into a huge smile. “You lucky bitch!”
She throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. I groan, the second hug I’ve gotten today, before she lets me go and starts peppering me with questions.
“When? Who? How? Why wasn’t I invited? What did you wear? Do you have pictures? Is this for real or some fake wedding? Is it for tax purposes? Are you living with him? Who the hell is it??”
“Slow. Down,” I say. “Seriously.”
She takes a breath and lets it out. “Okay. Now. Who is it?”
“His name is Nathan Palmer,” I say. “We met… we met at my brother’s trial.”
She sobers up a little bit at the mention of my brother. She knows how broken up I’ve been over the whole thing.
“Oh, that’s a little…”
“Weird?”
“I wasn’t going to say it, but yeah.”
“I know. It just… happened, okay? I didn’t plan it. We just… got together.” I’m trying really hard not to lie to her, but I also can’t straight up tell her the truth. One day she might be interviewed by immigration or something like that, and I don’t want her to have to lie or to mess something up for us. So I’m walking a really fine line.
“Are you happy?” she asks.
I’m taken aback by the question.
“Yes,” I quickly say and force a smile. “Yes, I’m happy.”
She smiles back and hugs me again, this time like a regular human. “Okay. I’m happy for you then. I’m pissed I wasn’t invited but I’m happy for you.”
“Nobody was invited. My parents don’t even know.”
She looks aghast. “Your parents… don’t even know yet?”
“Oh, shit,” I say. “I really need to tell them, don’t I?”
“No kidding, you freaking moron.” She sighs. “Come on. Let’s get to work. There are sick dogs to save.”
I groan. “I’m doomed, aren’t I?”
“Yup. Now come on. Let’s earn those big bucks.”
She puts her arm around me and steers me toward my first patient of the day in room number three.
* * *
Later in the evening, after a long day fielding questions from my coworkers, I can’t help but think about how I haven’t told a single person in my life that I’m married.
That can’t last forever. I mean, sooner or later I have to tell people. I can’t keep Nathan a secret for very much longer if we’re going to try to make this seem like a real thing.
I just don’t know how to do it. I mean, I don’t know what to tell anyone. Teresa and the others found out purely by accident, all because Nathan left me some random pot of coffee and totally knocked me off my game. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let it slip.
But I did and now I’m coming to grips with the fact that I have no clue what I’m going to do about any of this.
I ride my bike through the evening Philly traffic, going slow and being careful. It’s chilly, so I’m wrapped in a scarf with gloves on my hands, although the wind is biting through it all. I keep thinking about who I have to tell, and over and over I keep coming back to one single fact.
I have to tell my parents before anyone else.
I can’t keep this from them any longer. But they know exactly who Nathan is.
And I have no clue how to explain any of this.
I can’t tell them the truth. They’ll lose it and act like they’ve lost both of their children. Plus, they’re pretty conservative people, so the idea of their daughter breaking the law would kill them. Bad enough their son was a degenerate. I think if I broke bad, it would destroy them.
But they need to know. I just have no clue how to do it.
I get back to the house and head inside, leaving my bike locked up nearby. Nathan’s nowhere to be seen, of course, but I do find another note on the coffee pot.
Clean this. -N
I stare at it for a long moment then just do what the stupid freaking note says.
When I’m done, I head to my room. It’s a small room, but it’s comfortable. There’s enough room for my bed and my desk, which is enough. I have a little dresser and some closet space, and fortunately I packed light since I don’t have all that much space to begin with. I miss all my clothes, still hanging in the closet in my old apartment, but I’ll survive for now.
I sit on my bed for a long time, weighing my options. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I need Nathan’s help. I can’t just go and tell my parents about this without him there. It would look so strange and suspicious. I need him around to help me convince my parents that this thing is real and that we’re not just doing something emotional and crazy.
Which, of course, is exactly what we’re doing, but still.
I’m nervous as I leave my room and walk down the hall. I stop outside of Nathan’s room and knock gently. I wait a second before I knock again, a little bit louder.
I hear him walk across the floor and I step back as he opens it. I stand there and stare at him for a second. He’s not wearing a shirt, just a loose pair of sweats pulled low, showing off that insanely, stupidly sexy little V that leads down to his… well, I can’t think about that.
I pull my eyes up, dragging them up along his ripped abs, up along his defined, sculpted chest muscles. He’s gorgeous, and holy crap, when I finally get to his face, he looks pissed.
“What do you want?” he asks. “I’m busy.”
“Doing… what?”
I regret asking instantly. He makes a face. “It doesn’t matter if I’m in here murdering fucking kittens. It’s none of your business.”
He goes to slam the door but I put my hand on it. “Hold on. Wait. I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” he asks.
“About… uh… my parents.”
“Your parents?” he says. “I couldn’t give a shit about them.”
“Wait, uh. We need to talk.” I look away. “Can you put a freaking shirt on?”
He laughs softly. “No. If you want to talk, start talking. I’m losing patience.”
“I need to tell my parents about us,” I blurt out. “And I need your help.”
He’s quiet for along moment. “No,” he says. “I’m not interested.”
He goes to shut the door.
“Wait!” I say. “Hold on. This was your idea. You said we need to make this real, right?”
He hesitates. “Right.”
“We have to tell my parents and we have to convince them. We can’t let them think anything’s going on, right? That would be bad for both of us.”
He frowns at me for a long moment. “Okay. I can see how that makes sense.”
“I can’t do it alone,” I continue. “My parents are a little… conservative. A little strict. I need your help convincing them.”
“They know who I am, right?” he asks.
“Yeah. They do.”
“So then no, thanks. I don’t want to deal with that.”
“Nathan. You can’t just… say
no. You’re in this too. I can’t be entirely responsible for this.”
“Sorry, but you are.” He shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this and I’m not dealing with it. So you figure it out.”
He goes to shut the door again, but this time I throw my body against it. I must be pretty mad because when I hit the door, he lets it go, and I stumble forward.
I run hit into his muscular, sexy, very bare chest.
He grabs me and holds me there for a second. I think we’re both surprised, but we don’t move. I look up into his eyes and finally, he lets me go.
“You should stop doing that,” he says. “I’m going to break your hand one of these days.”
“You need to listen,” I say. “If you’re there, it’ll look… it’ll look real. They might actually listen. They’ll think it’s insane and weird, because it totally is, but they might listen.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Still not interested.”
I practically stomp my foot. “You’re so fucking frustrating.”
“Imagine how I feel, seeing you in my house.”
“Seeing me? I’m barely around. I avoid you like the plague.”
“Except the other day when you were dancing around in just a sports bra.”
“I was working out,” I say. “What’s your deal? I get that you hate me but can’t you just suck it up and try to be civil? We’re both stuck in this, you know.”
His eyes blaze to life suddenly. He steps toward me and I stumble back, running up against the wall behind me.
“No, we’re not,” he says. I feel the doorjamb pressing into my spine. “My mother’s dead. Your brother’s still alive and one day, he’ll be out in this world again. So no, we’re not in this together. You’re in this to make up for the fucked-up shit your brother did. Get it?”
I stare at him and all I can feel is anger.
“You still don’t have to be a dick,” I say.
We look into each other eyes for a long moment. My heart’s racing and I’m so aware of his body, so close to mine, so enormous. He could crush me, break me, take me however he wanted…
And oh, god, I think that’s what I want.
I’m starting to hate him though. I really am. He’s such a dick, such an angry prick, and he loves taking it out on me. I can see my life, spreading out before me, one miserable year after the other, dealing with this bastard. All because I made one stupid mistake out of sheer guilt.
He puts his hand on the wall next to my head. He practically pins me there, his face inches from mine.
“Maybe I am a dick,” he whispers. “But I still fucking hate you.”
“I think I’m starting to hate you too, asshole,” I whisper back.
And then he kisses me.
God, it’s a kiss. Not like those chaste things before.
This is a real kiss.
It’s violent, it’s angry. His lips are hard against mine, his tongue in my mouth, and goddamn, it feels good. I reach up and grab his hair just as he grabs mine, pulling it tight, pinning me hard against the wall.
I gasp out in pain as his fingers pull harder. I groan and he kisses me again, almost furious now. He turns me and I stumble back.
His hands grab at the hem of my scrubs. He pulls them up and off, throwing them onto the floor. For a second, we stare at each other.
There’s hate in his eyes. But there’s also animal lust.
And then he’s kissing me again, and I can’t stop myself, even if I wanted to.
6
Nathan
Fuck, I hate her.
I hate the way she drives me wild. I hate her pretty eyes, her pouty lips, her sexy body. I hate the way she somehow still looks gorgeous, even hidden under those scrubs. I hate that we’re stuck in this house together, in this life together. I hate that she makes me want to take her so goddamn badly.
I don’t think. I just tear her scrubs off and look at her breasts, her perky, gorgeous breasts barely covered by a black bra. And then I kiss her again, forcing her back to the bed. I grab her hair hard, fisting it rough, pulling back. She gasps and I’m not trying to be gentle as I practically rip the bra from her chest.
I push her onto the bed. She groans as I drop to my knees in front of her, pulling her to the edge. She looks into my eyes and I kiss her, hard and tight, digging my fingers into her back. I kiss her neck then, my one hand in her hair, pulling it hard, the other on her breasts.
I lick her nipples, suck one, bite it. She gasps and I do it again, biting down hard enough to make her groan. She curls herself and bites my shoulder in response. I groan, loving it. I kiss her, bite her lower lip, and her fingers dig into my back. I pull her hair hard then force her legs open. She gasps as I rip her scrubs off her body, forcing them down, throwing them aside.
She spreads her legs and stares at me, mouth hanging open, as I get her completely naked.
When I’m done, she’s sitting on my bed, breathing hard, breasts shaking, heaving. Her pussy glints in the low light. I was just working out before she came in, so I’m slightly damp with sweat, my heart racing with desire.
I grab her hair again and whisper in her ear. “You’re a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you?” I growl. “You came in here thinking you’d get this, didn’t you?”
“No, asshole,” she says.
My fingers find her pussy. I force her legs open then tease her, fingers roaming up and down. She moans and I feel her arms wrap around my neck. I grab her hair tighter, harder, making it hurt, making her groan as my fingers press deep into her pussy.
I fuck her with my fingers, not able to help myself. She’s so tight and soaking wet. She wants this badly, I can tell. I kiss her hard, biting her lip again.
“You really are a dirty fucking girl,” I growl. “You’re dripping down onto my bed. You came in here, already soaking wet, hoping I’d tear your fucking clothes off.”
“Asshole,” she says. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”
She pushes me and I push her back, shoving her back onto the bed. I get on top of her, pin her wrists there, and kiss her. She moans into my kiss as I slide back off her, down between her legs, spreading them wide. She sits up on one elbow, staring as I lick her top to bottom, tasting her delicious little cunt.
My god, she’s incredible. She moans as I slide two fingers inside her tight pussy, she groans as I lick her clit and suck it fast. She grabs my hair hard and pushes my face tighter, rolling her hips, and I fuck her pussy hard with my fingers while I lick her swollen clit.
I want it badly. I want it so badly I can’t stand myself. I want to show her how she’s a dirty fucking girl, show her what I can do. I suck her faster, tonguing her little clit, fingers pumping in and out. She’s moaning, her lean, tight body pressed hard against my mouth, and I’m starving for more.
She’s so fucking sexy. Her body is incredible, her perky nipples are pink and her breasts are perfectly round and firm. I lick her pussy faster, tasting her delicious honey, before moving back up to lick her nipples and to kiss her. “Do you like the way you taste?” I growl in her ear. “Because I do. You may be a filthy girl, but goddamn, I love the way you taste.”
She moans as I lick her nipples, bite her lip, my fingers pumping in and out of her the whole time.
I drop back between her legs. I lick her faster, sucking her clit. She moans louder, throwing her head back. “Oh, fuck, Nathan,” she groans. “Oh, fuck. You asshole. Fuck you, asshole.”
I fuck her faster with my fingers. I’m not being kind or gentle. I lick her, sucking her clit, and her fingers tighten in my hair. Her body tenses, her back arches, and I know she’s close. “Go ahead,” I groan, fingers deep inside her. “Come for me. Go ahead. I know you can’t control it, you dirty girl. Come for me now, let me taste that fucking pussy come all over my tongue. You filthy fucking girl.”
I go back down ad lick her faster, sucking her, fingers fucking her, and she gasps. Her head tilts back, her mouth opens, her muscles tense. Sh
e comes in waves, rolling waves, a beautiful fucking thing to watch and taste. I can feel how hard I am, my cock practically pulsing with need for her, but I don’t stop.
I get her off. I make her come.
I make her fucking mine.
When she finally finishes, I pull her forward by the hair and kiss her. I make her taste her pussy on my tongue and lips. I pull her back and make her suck her juice off my fingers, one by one. It’s the most sensual fucking thing in the world.
And it’s only so much hotter that she glares at me the whole time like she can’t fucking stand me.
When I’m done with her, I stand. I don’t try to hide my hard fucking cock. I want her to see how badly I want to take her right now, but I want her to know that I’m holding back.
“Get out,” I say.
She hesitates, still naked. She stares at me. “Will you help?” she asks.
I nod once. “I’ll help.”
She stands, grabs her clothes, and leaves without dressing. She slams the door behind her.
“Fuck,” I whisper, sitting down on the edge of the bed, right where she had been.
I can still smell her in the air. It’s like electricity.
I close my eyes and try to summon the anger again, but it’s completely swallowed by my pure, incredible lust for her body.
Maybe I hate her. But goddamn, I want her.
7
Grace
We don’t say a single word to each other during the drive up to my parents’ house.
I can barely even look at him. I have my phone out the whole time, staring down at its screen, texting with Teresa. I wish I could tell her the truth about what we’re doing, but I just…
I can’t do it. I know I can’t do it. That might ruin everything. Even if I trust her, this is way too big.
Nathan doesn’t say a word either. He focuses on driving, weaving through the evening Philadelphia traffic, heading up north into the suburbs. My parents live in a tiny town called Langhorne, in this old historic brick house that’s actually pretty gorgeous, except it’s drafty as hell and always either too hot or too cold. I grew up either wrapped from head to toe in wool or wearing practically nothing at all.
