For Richer for Poorer by Cassandra Black Page B

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