Kitty hamilton a high sc.., p.1
Kitty Hamilton: A High School Romance, page 1
KITTY HAMILTON
HARLEIGH BECK
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2022 by Harleigh Beck
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Chris Williams
Proofreading: Paula Hevia Riveiro.
Proofreading: Nisha at Nisha’s Books and Coffee.
*Not suitable for readers under 18
For Chris, who edited this lil’ baby. I couldn’t have done it without you!
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Counter Bet
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Harleigh Beck
PROLOGUE
How I first met my future husband is quite a humorous story. It happened in a coffee shop of all places.
I hold my freshly brewed cappuccino in one hand and my phone in the other. Hazel and Becky are busy gossiping about Kingsley, one of the most popular boys at school who also happens to be awfully boring. I know because he’s in my class, and the only thing on that boy’s mind is sex, alcohol, and his precious BMX bike. I don’t think he has more than two brain cells, and it’s as if they have packed up and gone on holiday.
Where was I? Oh right, I’m busy scrolling through Instagram when I walk into a hard and rather muscular wall. That isn’t the worst part of this story. No, most tragically, I spill my coffee all over said muscular wall.
“What the fuck?!” a deep and gravelly voice growls, awakening my slumbering feminine parts.
I look up, up, and up again until I meet the stormy cobalt blue eyes of the most handsome man I have ever seen. Now, this is the moment where I should woo him with a flirtatious smile, but I’m dumbstruck and stare at him like he is the Greek God Apollo.
“You need to fucking watch where you’re going!” he growls, shaking his wet hands. Drops of coffee fly everywhere.
I finally snap into action and grab a handful of paper napkins from the dispenser on the desk and begin patting him down, secretly admiring his hard chest. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” I blurt, but it’s a blatant lie, and now I’m just groping him instead of drying him off.
He’s dressed in distressed jeans and a t-shirt, which used to be white but is now brown. Usually, I like my men in finely pressed suits, but I’m sure I can get this fine specimen of a man to improve his dress sense with some careful coaxing.
“I’m Katherine,” I smile, patting him awfully close to the groin area. He looks at me like I belong in the local mental asylum and bats me off. “Whatever, just watch where you’re going next time!” He storms out, and I stare after him like a lovesick puppy.
Becky and Hazel squeal behind me. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”
I turn and look at them quizzically. They begin talking at the same time. Hazel giggles and gestures for Becky to tell the story.
“Do you not know who that was?”
I look between them questioningly. “My future husband. Should I know who he is beside the obvious?”
Becky looks like she’s about to burst at the seams. “You live under a rock. That’s Hunter Wood. Only one of the most famous pornstars around!”
I furrow my brow. “Hunter Wood? Terrible name for a pornstar, don’t you think?”
Hazel grins and winks. “But he’s sure got some wood.”
Becky laughs as I scoff and discard the napkins in my hand.
“What is he doing here anyway?”
The bell over the door chimes as we walk outside. I squint in the bright sunlight, shielding my eyes with my hand.
Hazel puts her phone back inside her purse and says, “Apparently, there’s a porn convention in town.”
Aha! I grin at the girls and pull my sunglasses down off the top of my head. “I’m changing my career plan.”
Hazel cocks her head. “But what about college?”
We set off walking down the main street. It’s rather busy for this time of day.
“I never wanted to pursue a career in law. That was my father’s wish, and he’s not here anymore. I could take a year out, pursue my future husband, and enjoy a rather adventurous career path in the meantime. How hard can it be?”
“Wait a minute!” Hazel says.
Becky takes a sip of her coffee.
“What are you going to do?”
I eye Becky’s coffee longingly and reply, “I’m going into porn.”
Becky sprays her beverage and stares at me in disbelief with coffee droplets on her chin.
I cringe, motioning to them. “You’ve got a little something there.”
She wipes her chin, still staring at me.
Hazel scrunches her cute button nose. “But why?”
I steal Becky’s coffee and take a sip. It tastes like coffee heaven, and I moan as I meet Hazel’s inquisitive eyes. “Because I’m going to make Hunter my husband.”
Becky snaps out of her stasis and laughs. “You are crazy! He’s a thirty-year-old pornstar, and you’re an eighteen-year-old high school student.”
“So?” I ask and hold her coffee out of reach as she makes a grab for it. “Nope, you’re not getting it back until you tell me what your point is.”
Becky sighs. “Kath, don’t take this the wrong way, but look at you.”
I do. There is nothing wrong with my fitted dress and Louboutin heels.
Becky rolls her eyes, waving a hand at me. “You’re so… pristine.”
“Pristine?”
Hazel sniggers, and I shoot her a look. She holds her hands up placatingly.
“There’s not a wrinkle in sight. Your legs look oiled and shit.”
“Oiled and shit?” I echo, staring down at my legs.
Becky seems at a loss for words before she replies, “Well, only celebrities have such perfect legs.”
My mouth opens and closes. Her logic makes no sense. “So, I can’t be a porn actress because I have nice legs?” I take another sip of coffee heaven.
Becky groans, blurting, “You’re a virgin!”
I choke on the coffee and thump my chest. “What has that got to do with anything?”
A group of boys wolf-whistle as they walk past. Becky flips them off and then turns to me and says, “You need sexual experience to work in porn.”
“That can easily be arranged.”
Becky stares at me. “You’re still a virgin. That’s like rare gold at our age. Don’t you think you should save it for someone special?”
I shrug. I’m not waiting to have sex per se. I have just not been interested in anyone until now. There’s not a lot of choice in this small town.
Hazel stops in front of a store window and eyes up a pretty dress.
“So, let’s say you go through with this master plan of yours. What exactly is the plan?”
I hitch my purse higher onto my shoulder. “I don’t know yet. Let me think about it. The first place to start is the convention.” I tap Hazel on the shoulder. “When is it?”
“Saturday.”
That’s in two days. I have so much I need to do before then. Manicures, pedicures, a haircut. Suck a cock. The last thought makes me snigger.
Becky enters the store, calling over her shoulder, “Let’s get you a new dress. Something less modest. You need to turn heads.”
ONE
“I’m leaving for the day, miss,” Geoffrey, my butler and my late father’s right-hand man, says in the doorway to my bedroom.
I pull on my fluffy pajama jumper and stick my head out of the walk-in wardrobe. “See you in the morning, Geoff.”
“Bunnies?” He can barely suppress his amused smile.
I look down at the pink bunnies on my pajama jumper. “What’s wrong with bunnies?”
“Nothing. Except Easter has been and gone.”
I give him a droll look and close the door to my walk-in wardrobe. “I happen to think it’s cute.”
“What happened to the Kermit pajamas you refused to part with?”
“You know,” I say as I tie my hair up. “That is an excellent question. What did happen to my Kermit pajamas, Geoffrey?”
“Oh, look at the time!” Geoffrey replies, inspecting the expensive watch on his wrist. “I must get going.”
I’m highly amused by our banter. “I will get to the bottom of it!” I shout after him as he makes his escape downstairs.
His voice carries up the stairs. “Your detective skills are subpar, miss. It’ll remain a mystery for all of eternity.”
I chuckle as the front door closes.
The first part of my research starts online, so I cozy up on my bed, grab my laptop and reach for my trusty coffee on my bedside table
. Mr. Boomer, my three-year-old Sphynx cat, lies curled up on the end of my bed, purring like an engine. His blue eyes watch my every move.
“Let’s see your wood, Mr. Wood,” I snigger, searching his name online. He’s not exactly difficult to find. Becky was right—he’s a big name in the business. I click on an x-rated website and stare wide-eyed at the many videos of Hunter. I’m not starved for choice.
Mr. Boomer stretches his legs as I press play and take a sip of my coffee.
Hunter, dressed in a suit, is sitting on an office chair with his legs spread when a voluptuous receptionist walks in and drops a file on his desk.
I cringe when she talks. The acting is terribly bad.
Hunter loosens his tie and sweeps his eyes down her body in a way that’s highly inappropriate in the workplace but makes me throb in unspeakable places.
“Naughty, naughty, Mr. Wood,” I whisper as the receptionist drops to her knees between his legs and the desk. I think I could enjoy this if it wasn’t for the cheesy background music.
Mr. Boomer yawns, stretching his cute little paws.
I lower the screen and hiss, “Don’t judge me!”
Mr. Boomer lifts his head. He stares at me lazily and flicks his ear.
When I look back at the screen, the receptionist is sucking on Hunter’s Wood.
Ha! See what I did there?
My mouth drops open. Hunter is huge! Jesus, he’s an Adonis! Screw Apollo! Hunter is the Hades to my Persephone. I bite my lip and groan, ignoring Mr. Boomer’s judging blue eyes. He may be a cat, but he’s totally judging me right now. The loud moaning coming from my laptop is not helping my case either.
I click out of the video and select the next one in my recommended playlist. Jeez, I’ve watched the first ten minutes of one video, and I already have a playlist recommended to me.
I fast forward until it’s midway through and press play. Hunter is fucking a girl from behind on a luxurious love seat, and her surgically enhanced breasts bounce in time with his powerful thrusts.
I cock my head and try to imagine myself in her place. If I pursue a career in porn to get close to Hunter, I’ll have to practice the perfect facial expressions and sounds. I study the girl. Her mouth hangs open, and her eyes are at half-mast. She looks convincing. Or maybe Hunter is that good?
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and sweep my eyes over his big hands, gripping her slim hips. The receptionist’s ass is already red from repeated slaps. As I watch, he lands another loud spank before fisting her hair. He pulls it back and growls in her ear, whispering things that make me blush and close the laptop.
I’m shamefully aroused. My clit throbs like it has its own heartbeat, and it’s not a feeling I’m used to. “Not a word,” I whisper hiss, glaring at Mr. Boomer, who flicks his ear.
I open my laptop again and google how to suck dick. I never thought I would abandon my academic studies on a Thursday night to research the technicalities of fellatio. My father would turn in his grave.
Mr. Adams, my English teacher, is an awfully boring man. His voice is monotone, and he wears the most horrid shirts that never fit him properly. It’s no wonder he’s still single. His glasses are always askew, so it’s impossible to take him seriously.
My mind wanders while he drones on about things that I used to find fascinating but don’t anymore. My mind is too preoccupied with the thought of how to gain enough experience to convince an executive producer to hire me. It’s not like I can tell them about my non-existent expertise. I haven’t even kissed anyone. My seven minutes in heaven with Joel in sixth grade doesn’t count. It lasted two seconds and was sloppy. His tongue poked my cheek more than my mouth.
A sudden raucous laugh to my left rips me from my thoughts and disrupts the class enough to earn a glare from Mr. Adams. I stare at Kingsley as he runs a hand through his already disheveled brown hair. He’s still laughing. If there is anyone more suited to be my teacher at this school, it’s him. He’s already slept with most girls here, and he is not the clingy kind who expects commitment. He can show me what to do. Then we can go back to ignoring each other. It’s perfect.
Becky nudges my shoulder. “Why are you staring at Kingsley with a creepy smile on your face?”
I treat her to my best Cheshire cat smile. “Seek, and it shall be provided, my friend. I love it when a plan falls into place.”
“Huh?” Becky furrows her brows.
A shadow falls over my desk, and I lift my head. Mr. Adams is staring down at me with a deep crease between his eyebrows. “You’re usually my best student Katherine. Is there anything you wish to share with the class?”
My eyes flick over to Kingsley, who looks amused by my discomfort. I shake my head. “No?”
Becky giggles next to me.
Mr. Adams harrumphs. “No talking in class, ladies.” He points to Kingsley’s table. “Katherine, go sit with Kingsley. Becky, you’re with Sam. The rest of you split up into pairs.
“Why don’t we get to pick who we sit with?” Becky whines, pushing her chair back.
“Let this be a lesson to you.” Mr. Adams walks back to the whiteboard and begins writing down the task.
“This sucks,” Becky groans, grabbing her bag.
Kingsley sits one table over from mine, so it’s not exactly a trek to the Alps and back. He scoots out the chair next to him with his foot and gestures to it. “So, I’m graced with the presence of her royal highness, the unattainable Katherine Hamilton.”
Okay, so maybe I will need to lower my standards a lot. Remember, Katherine, he is the expert on sexual misadventures, not you.
I straighten my skirt and take a seat. Kingsley sits spread out in his chair like he hasn’t got a care in the world, his elbows on the back of it and his legs spread wide like he’s ready to accommodate his latest conquest. Images flash through my mind of Hunter and the receptionist.
The nuisance throbbing between my thighs starts up again. Before I can stop my treacherous eyes, they flick down to the visible bulge in Kingsley’s jeans.
“See anything you like?” he drawls with a healthy dose of amusement in his voice.
My cheeks flush. I reach for the zip on my bag. “As a matter of fact, I have an arrangement I would like to discuss with you.” I put my book on the desk and open it to page 143.
Kingsley leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. I can smell him. It’s a masculine smell that reminds me of leather and bonfires.
“An arrangement?”
I highlight a passage in my book and studiously ignore how nice he smells.
Mr. Adams walks past, placing a sheet of paper on the desk. I wait for him to be out of earshot and then face Kingsley, noting the slight smirk on his lips. He’s amused by my obvious discomfort. “I need you to teach me something.” I sweep my eyes over the room for listening ears.
“Go on,” Kingsley drawls. He’s smiling now.
I stare at his white teeth, then shake myself off and say, “I have decided to pursue a new career path. You’re the most experienced one here. You have two days to teach me.”
He laughs. “Well, are you going to tell me what it is? I’m not sure what knowledge I have that’s of any interest to you. I don’t see you being interested in BMX.” He chuckles at his own joke. It’s a well-known fact that Kingsley competes in freestyle BMX. When he’s not at school, fucking or partying, he practices tricks on his BMX bike.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have a death wish.”
Mr. Adams points to the whiteboard. “This is what we’re working on today. I want you to read the three texts on the sheets of paper that I gave you and try to see if you can figure out which famous author wrote what. We have covered these authors this year, so if your memory is better than that of a goldfish, you should have no problem solving it together.”
I read over the first passage, tapping the pencil on my lips. “Well, this is easy. It’s Jane Austen,” I mumble.
