Chapter 1: An Unexpected Intimacy

Hope

I traced my fingertips over the tender bruise at my collarbone, wondering how many others James had deliberately left hidden from view.

I am the adopted daughter of the Russell family. Last night, my foster brother James Russell had stepped in for his mother, Elizabeth Bradford Russell, the honorary chancellor of Brighton University, at the centennial celebration.

During the toasts, James's friendly smile slipped away when our eyes met, and I could see his mood shift. He downed his champagne in one go, showing just how much the night was hitting him.

A shiver coursed through me at the memory. In the opulent hotel suite, James cradled me in his arms, his lips brushing against mine as he kissed me. The bitter taste of whiskey intertwined with an intoxicating sweetness, creating a moment that lingered in my senses.

The lingerie, which he'd undone himself, hung halfway off my shoulders, his hands passing through the bra to gently knead my breasts. As he lowered his head slowly, his warm lips enveloped my nipple, and the delicate flick of his tongue sent electric shivers coursing through my body.

Immediately afterward he inserted one finger into my pussy, constantly flexing it to explore the tight inner walls. I had gone completely limp as I gasped out his name, "James... don't... ahhh!"

This was my first time, after all, and my core shivered uncontrollably. His erect cock looked hideous in size, and without giving me a chance to escape, he plunged in with precision against the opening.

"Uh, Hope, your tight!"

Under his control, strange moans escaped my lips, a mix of shame and desire.

"Lift your hips a little higher, my little sister," James whispered, "Why is the bed running so much, hmm?"

I couldn't control the sobbing and gasping moans that rose and fell to the rhythm of the thrusts, "Ahh... James..." my body shook with extreme pleasure.

"Oh my God, you missed the drama!" Claire's voice cut through my thoughts.

Claire was the kind of roommate who treated every minor drama like breaking news. Despite her privileged upbringing, she had a refreshing honesty that had made us fast friends from day one.

She was perched on her bed, stabbing at a takeout salad. "I tried calling you like crazy last night. You disappeared from the alumni dinner without a word."

I pushed myself up slowly. "Sorry, I wasn't feeling well. Ended up at Metropolitan General for an IV drip." The lie felt clumsy on my tongue, but Claire seemed to accept it with a sympathetic nod.

"That gorgeous James Russell—you know, Chief Engineer of Northern Aviation?" Claire's eyes lit up with gossip. "Ashley attempted to steady him after those toasts, but he basically froze her out."

I made a noncommittal sound, my hand unconsciously moving to my neck. Under my fingertips, I could feel the tender spots where James had been less than careful.

"You should have seen her face," Claire shuddered dramatically. "Though I can't blame her for trying. The guy's worth billions, and that face? Those eyes? Devastating."

I knew exactly how devastating those eyes could be, especially when darkened with wanting—

"You sure you're okay? You seem out of it."

"Just tired," I mumbled, swinging my legs over the bed's edge. The movement sent a dull ache through my body, a reminder of James's deliberate roughness.

A knock at our door saved me from further comment. Ashley Anderson, our other roommate, sashayed into the dorm, a distinctive Chanel box in her manicured hands.

"Special delivery for Hope Carter," she announced, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Rather exclusive packaging for a student budget, wouldn't you say?"

My heart stopped. The Classic Flap velvet bag—I recognized the limited edition packaging immediately.

I snatched the bag perhaps too quickly. "I'm just holding it for someone," I said, trying to sound casual.

Ashley's perfectly groomed eyebrow arched. "Really? A hundred and fifty thousand dollar bag, and you're just the messenger?" Her tone dripped with insinuation. "That's quite a favor you're doing for... someone."

"It's not what you think," I said quietly, shoving the bag deep into my closet. "It's complicated."

The next day, I slipped into the multimedia hall late, my eyes automatically finding James in the crowd. Even from a distance, his presence dominated the room, drawing admiring glances from students and faculty alike.

He wore a turtleneck sweater that perfectly concealed the bite mark on his chin—my mark, a lingering reminder of our heated second encounter.

At that moment, I was in the bathroom washing away the traces of our encounter, leaning over the tub to check if I had any injuries. James on the bed looked like a restless beast, full of desire.

I didn't expect James to come into the bathroom at that moment; his hand was still on the door, his gaze fixed on me, something swirling deep in his eyes. I was in a vulnerable position—naked, bent over, with my back to him.

"Hope," he approached me, a raging boner. His tongue entwined with mine, and a rush of exhilaration washed over me as he lifted me effortlessly, pinning me against the cool bathroom wall.

The memory made focusing on the alumni lecture impossible.

"He's something else, isn't he?" Claire whispered beside me. "Did you hear he donated both the new dance center and the sports complex?"

I nodded mutely. Afterward, seeking refuge in the women's restroom, I discovered spots of blood that brought both relief and shame. My clockwork cycle meant no chance of pregnancy—one less consequence to face from our reckless night.

"You should take Plan B." James's voice, low and controlled, made me freeze at the sink. "I didn't use a condom when we hooked up in the bathroom yesterday."

He stood behind me, ostensibly adjusting his cufflinks in the mirror. His reflection showed no trace of the previous night's "drunken" loss of control.

"The bag," I started, my voice barely steady, "if it's some kind of compensation—"

"Birthday gift," he cut in smoothly, though my birthday wasn't for months.

"Regardless, it's yours. Though if you prefer, I could give you the Hunter instead."

It was his first car, which held special emotional significance for me, and it would be a better fit during the upcoming internship, though.

Before I could respond, voices in the hallway made me stiffen.

James remained perfectly still, watching my panic with barely concealed amusement.

We sprang apart when Professor Miller rounded the corner with several colleagues, and James transformed seamlessly into the charming alumnus.

"Oh, Ms. Carter!" Miller beamed. "Mr. Russell, you must meet one of our most promising students. Did you know she's quite the ballerina?"

"Is that so?" James's polite interest was perfectly calibrated. The way his lips curved around that word made my cheeks burn. "A ballerina... how fascinating."

"She really must perform at the dedication ceremony for the new dance center," Miller continued enthusiastically.

"The board would be delighted to see young talent featured at the opening," he added smoothly. "If you'll excuse me, I have another engagement."

As he left, my phone buzzed with his message: Mother wants you home tonight.

I closed my eyes, leaning against the hallway wall. The duties of a grateful ward left no room for refusal, but the last thing I needed right now was to face Elizabeth's scrutiny.