For Richer for Poorer Page 5

  He laughed, relieved she wasn't upset.

  "Well?" he asked.

  "Well what?" she asked, smiling back.

  "Are you married, woman?" he asked jokingly.

  She liked the way he called her woman. "No, I'm not, Mr. Steele.

  "Do you have someone in your life?" His tone was more serious. He knew what he wanted.

  "No, and truth be told, it's been quite a while since I've had anyone in my life romantically," she looked into his eyes for long seconds.

  "Well, now that that's out of the way, what are you doing later this evening?" he asked.

  "Ah nothing--," she started. "Just unpacking."

  "Do you want some company for a bit? I can help you get some shelving hung in that back room and in your sunroom so you can finish sorting the rest of those boxes."

  "You don't have to --"

  "Repayment for the lunch, that's all," he said. "About eight o'clock?"

  "Sure, why not," she said.

  "Great, I have two more appointments this afternoon, I'll run home after I'm finished work, and then I'll see you at eight," he said. "Can I bring anything back, Chinese food, bottle of vino?"

  "No, we'll be fine." Miranda changed her mind. She needed to lighten up a bit, to start enjoying life more. "You know what, that would be great. Chinese food and vino sounds perfect."

  "Okay, I look forward to it," he said starting to help get the dishes in the house.

  "I've got this," she said. "Go to your appointments."

  "Okay, I'll see you tonight," he said, heading to his truck.

  Miranda was pleasantly surprised. She all of a sudden had a date, and she was looking forward to it. Mind you, they would be unpacking, but it didn't matter. She looked forward to getting to know this man. She liked his style; open, direct, honest. She had a feeling there was a lot more to Hamilton Steele than what was on the surface.

  Chapter 12

  Hamilton knocked on the door precisely at 8 p.m. He had an assortment of Chinese food and a bottle of expensive wine in tow. She knew the vintage well but could seldom afford it. On a handyman's salary? Miranda tried to dismiss the thought.

  She had showered and put on an outfit hardly fit for unpacking boxes. But the flowing, casual mini dress was cool and comfortable in the suddenly muggy night air. She had two fans going at full speed; one in the living room and one in the sunroom.

  "Hi, he said, admiring how pretty she looked in the short dress, with her hair pulled back in ponytail. "You look nice," he said.

  "Thank you," she said.

  "Why don't you take this and I'll get the shelving and my tools," he said.

  "Okay." Miranda put the food and wine on the kitchen counter.

  Hamilton came back in with three long pieces of wood and his toolbox. "Show me exactly where you want the shelving," he said. "I'll go ahead and hang them now." She always did like a man with tools and know-how, like her father. As she approached him to help with the toolbox, she got a whiff of his cologne. Seductive, woodsy.

  "Right back here," she said, gesturing with her head. She was barely able to handle the heavy tool box. She was simply tired from the day's work.

  "Miranda, I can handle this," he said, taking the toolbox from her. "You lead the way." He nodded with his head down the hallway.

  "Yes, sir," she obeyed.

  His eyes were on her as she headed to the sunroom. She turned on one of the tall brass lamps sitting on her desk, but the light wouldn't come on. She tried again. Nothing.

  "Try the overhead light switch," Hamilton said. She flicked the switch on the wall. The overhead light was out, too.

  "Needs rewiring, sooner rather than later," Hamilton said.

  "Great," Miranda said with a sigh.

  "It's okay," he said, going back into the lit hallway. "I can still hang these. I've got a halogen light in my truck." He leaned the wood up against the wall and headed outside.

  Miranda was almost in tears as she realized the magnitude of the repairs facing her. She went into the kitchen and poured a glass of red wine from the bottle she'd gotten from Wal-mart the day before. Taking a sip, she felt the tears rising. She went into the laundry off the kitchen and looked out the back window into the darkness.

  "How did I get here?" she mumbled. Tears started trickling down her face.

  She didn't hear Hamilton come in. She took another sip of the wine and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

  "You okay, Miranda?" he asked, standing in the dimly lit space.

  "I'm fine," she said. "I'll be okay," her voice cracked.

  "Hey what's wrong?" Hamilton placed the halogen light next to the washing machine and came up behind her. He turned her to face him, using his finger to lift her chin. She could see the concern in his eyes. Tears started flowing from her like a river. She didn't mean to cry. It's just, everything had happened so quickly. One minute, she was living in her dream home, had a thriving business, was on her way to being married, and the next, she was worried about whether or not she'd be warm and have lights come winter.

  It was all too much.

  Hamilton took the wine glass from her and sat it on the washing machine. He pulled her into his arms and let her sob.

  "It'll be alright," he assured her. "You'll see."

  Her body heaved as she sank into his arms. He felt warm, safe.

  "Shhhh," he said, as she sobbed uncontrollably.

  "It's alright, Miranda." His muscular arms pulled her closer to him. "I've got you."

  They stayed like that for a long time.

  She finally looked up at him. "You're a kind man, Hamilton."

  "It's easy with you," he said in a throaty voice, not wanting to let her go.

  She could see the wanton she was feeling in his eyes. He reached down, slowly, as if asking permission, and kissed her gently on the lips. She tiptoed to give her mouth to him.

  Hamilton could barely control his passion. He wanted to devour all of her with his lips. He wrapped his arms tighter around her tiny waist, wanting to pull her all the way into him, so they could become one. He knew he had to slow down, pace himself, or he'd lose control. But Miranda's return kisses were growing hungrier. He threw caution to the wind and let his emotions guide him, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  His hands traveled from her waist and slipped below the small of her back. He could feel her almost bare skin through the soft sundress. As their tongues circled, his manhood rose. Her hands caressed his face and roamed through his dark mane. Hamilton leaned on the washing machine and pulled Miranda's delicate body to him. He stopped her kisses and looked at her. She was breathless, hungry. He traced the curvy neckline of her soft sundress with his strong fingers and kissed her lips again gently. She could feel his manhood throbbing against her. His lips traveled from her face to her neck as his hands massaged her breasts. Hamilton found her nipples and squeezed gently through the fabric.

  She whimpered.

  He squeezed the round buds again, gently and kissed her neck.

  "I want you, Miranda," he said. "I need you."

  She rubbed his broad shoulders, pulled his lips to hers and let her body melt into his.

  "Come with me," she whispered.

  They made their way down the hallway into her bedroom. She could see the streetlamp streaming through the slit between the white cotton curtains. Hamilton sat on the bed to unlace his boots. The wind was blowing a slight breeze though the window. Miranda let down the blinds and pulled the curtains tight. She felt him behind her. His hands slid up her loose fitting mini dress to her breasts. He squeezed gently, pulling her back into him.

  She had never felt passion flowing from her body like this.

  Hamilton unsnapped her bra and let his rough palms caresses her exposed bosom. Miranda moaned as his grip grew stronger. He nipped at her neck, rubbing her naked breasts until she couldn't take it anymore. She turned to face him, letting her hands travel to the bulge between his legs. She was fearful of his size.
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  "I won't hurt you," he said, reading her mind. Hamilton's hands circled to her buttocks. He became more excited squeezing the bare skin her g-string exposed.

  "Miranda," he groaned, backing up to the bed. In one motion, he pulled the flimsy dress over her head and looked at her almost naked body. As he kissed her hard, he ripped the bra hanging loosely around her to the floor. Within seconds, they were lying naked, kissing like two hungry souls in the middle of her bed. He rolled her on top of him and devoured her bosom with hot kisses. Her ass fit perfectly in his hands as he massaged her body on top of his. She could feel his throbbing grow as he touched her. Miranda slipped from his grip and eased down between his legs. She slowly kissed and lapped at the tip of his manhood until he moaned out loud.

  "Don't tease me, Miranda," he whispered in a gruff voice. His body rose to her playfulness.

  "I'd never tease you, Hamilton." Her voice was sultry, filled with passion. She wrapped her lips around him and sucked slow and purposeful as her hand slid up and down his body. She felt him growing with each tender stroke, the veins in his trunk thickening as she tried to take more of him.

  "Oh, God," he said. Hamilton reached down and rubbed her face as she created the perfect rhythm. The sight of her pink-colored nails wrapped around his manhood made him grow longer in her delicate grip. Miranda felt her center throb and grow wet as her movements became faster. Hamilton slowed her down and pulled her body on top of his.

  "I want to taste you," he said. He pulled her face into his and kissed her hard and slow. As his hands traveled to the small of her back, her flipped her over and slid down between her legs. He parted her thighs and let his tongue slither from her navel to the moistness between her legs. Her breath caught as he smothered her soft pedal with his mouth. As her legs tried to close to control the passion beginning to erupt from her, she could feel the stubble of his face piecing her skin. Hamilton gently pried her thighs open and claimed her spot with his tongue. He prodded gently, sucking, rocking, caressing, until she began to throb.

  "Who's, teasing, who?" she panted.

  He smiled as he lifted his head from her mound and stared into her eyes. She felt his fingers entering her wet body, sliding in and out, preparing her for him. She stared back at him and let out slow pants as she opened her legs wide, giving in to the ecstasy now flowing freely.

  "I, need, you …" she said.

  "I know," he whispered in a heavy voice.

  Hamilton lifted his body and came up to her. She pulled his face into hers and kissed him passionately. Miranda could feel his hand guiding his stiff rod. She tensed as he played around the surface of her dark, wet cavern.

  "It's alright," he said as he looked into her eyes, towering above her naked body.

  He kissed her softly and positioned his body at her sweet opening. The tips of her hard nipples grazed the hairs on his chest as he slowly angled himself and prepared to push into her hot, slippery flesh. She winced as she felt him growing wider. Her body thumped wildly as he began inching inside of her. Her vagina felt like a suction cup on his large dick. She moaned wildly as he finally penetrated what felt like a virgin body. Hamilton covered her mouth with his to quiet the sounds erupting from her as he pushed deeper. He couldn't help himself. Loud whimpers oozed from Miranda as he kissed her hard and rocked slowly on top of her.

  "Shhhh," he demanded as his hands found her buttocks and pulled her into him. He drove deeper with his manhood as her whimpers turned wild.

  "Shhhh," he said. "I've got you."

  Her hot, slippery cavern sucked him in more as he moved in and out. Miranda's whimpers became passionate moans as he loved her rhythmically. Her body was on fire under him when he slowed his pace and looked into her eyes. He took long, deliberate, sodden strokes, in and out of her tight, suctioning passage, holding each a little longer than the one before. Each time he drove his manhood deeper, he pulled her ass tighter and kissed her mouth harder, his eyes never leaving hers. Her lips trembled as he led her to ecstasy with one final stroke. She rolled her head to the side and let a single tear spill on the white pillowcase as waves of passion swept through her body. Hamilton shuttered as volatile rapture stormed from his body into hers. She felt his veins thump wildly as his sizzling heat filled her soul. They lay there for a long while, in the dark, breathing heavy in the aftermath of their sweet lovemaking.

  Hamilton finally eased his body from hers and cradled her in his arms until they fell sound asleep.

  Chapter 13

  Its was after midnight when they woke, hungry. The Chinese food on the kitchen counter was a welcomed sight. Hamilton sat at the little round kitchen table in his boxer shorts as Miranda pulled down plates from the kitchen cabinets.

  "You're incredible, " he said staring at her.

  "You're pretty incredible yourself."

  "Come here," he said, coming up behind her. He turned her to him and kissed her on the lips. He held her in his arms and sighed.

  They sat up eating, talking and drinking wine until well after 2:00 a.m. She told him about her parents, what it was like growing up in the mountains, her time in California. He asked about her past relationship and she told him about James. They talked about her business and her plans to get a job, save and start over again.

  She learned all about his family, his younger sister, who was also a real estate investor, and lived up North. He told her about his parents, who had passed away several years ago. He told her about everything, except about his family's wealth and his pending inheritance.

  When he told her about Steele Development, she winced. The mood changed.

  "Why would you demolish older homes and build these mega mansions that people don't even spend any time in?"

  "It's progress," he said. "Things change, Miranda. As a developer, I'm simply giving people what they want."

  "But what about the mostly older people, on fixed incomes, who live in these communities. You know, most of them have been pushed out because they were the victims of unscrupulous lending practices. HELOCs with ARMS that doubled their payments on homes that were practically paid off before they swooped in like vultures."

  "My company had nothing to do with that. We bought distressed homes and rehabbed them or knocked them down. Simple. We only built homes people were asking for. I can't be blamed for predatory lending. I was a builder, still am, and will continue on my path. Change in older communities brings about better systems, commerce, jobs. I can't be blamed for rogue lending," he said.

  "But you have a responsibility as a professional in the industry."

  "To whom?" he asked.

  "To your neighbors!" she snapped.

  "I have a responsibility to my bottom line. If I didn't build homes, homes that people with money will buy, I'd be out of business."

  "You're out of business anyway," she hastily pointed out.

  "And so are you, Ms. Colbert," he shot back. "So are you."

  She threw him a dagger with her eyes. If she thought she could get away with it, she would reach over and slap his handsome face.

  Hamilton regretted having said that the minute it came out of his mouth. He couldn't tell her about the assisted living developments he builds in each neighborhood he demolishes, as she so fiercely phrased it. He couldn't tell her that each home he purchases is being bought because its owners have been the victim of predatory lending. He couldn't tell her he helps the elderly through his philanthropic foundation, an organization that helps distressed seniors move to modern dwellings in their same communities at no cost.

  The charitable foundation is the venture he's most proud of, but it's not one that a poor man could fund. She'd have to learn about that later, after she agreed to marry him.

  "Miranda, let's not do this," he sighed. "We can agree to disagree."

  She didn't hear him. "Before that couple moved in next door, years ago, Mr. Carey lived there. He was a kind old man. I can not imagine him not saying good morning, or how are you today? Neighbors today barely know e
ach other."

  "Your neighbors spoke today," he said, remembering the couple that waved to them.

  "I assumed they knew you," she said.

  "I do know them. I designed their home. They used one of my early building plans," he said.

  "Well that explains why they spoke," she said. "My point is neighborhoods are changing, and it's not for the better. And investing strategies like yours are contributing to it."

  "You know, I tried to buy this cottage, years ago, through one of my scouts," he said. "But the owner, you," he laughed, "wouldn't sell. If I'd have known the owner was this sexy, I'd have come by personally." He tried to lighten the mood.