Romancing the Bachelor (A Hamilton Family Series)

by Diane Alberts

  “Eric…”

  He brushed his lips across her cheek, right next to her mouth. “I know. It hurts, right? The ache inside of you?”

  She didn’t say anything, just nodded once.

  “I feel it, too. All the damn time.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat. “You do?”

  “Hell, yeah, and I only know one way to make it go away.”

  “And that is?” she asked, lifting her face to his and locking eyes.

  “We have to feed the beast.”

  “What if that only makes it hungrier?” she asked.

  “Then we’ll feed it until it’s not hungry anymore. Everything gets full eventually.” His hand grazed up her side, tracing her curves gently. Every inch he touched burned, even through her clothes. “Do you remember what I said last night?”

  That if she asked him to kiss her while sober, he’d give her incredible, mind-blowing orgasms? Yeah. She remembered. That wasn’t something a girl was likely to forget—not when it came from a guy like Eric. She nodded breathlessly because his hand had slid toward her butt.

  “Ask me, Shel. Two words. One sentence. Ask me.”

  She hesitated, because the second she said them, the second she made this real, it would be over. His hands would be on her, and his lips would meld to hers, and she’d be lost.

  In him.

  “Ask.” He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her butt. “Me.”

  She groaned, giving up a fight she never had a chance of winning. “Kiss me.”

  “Absolutely,” he growled, closing the distance between them. The second his lips touched hers, it was like the whole world became brighter, clearer, and more beautiful. It was like angels sang from above, and rainbows surrounded them, and a harp strummed whimsically.

  In all seriousness?

  It was frigging amazing.

  He backed her against the wall separating her kitchen from her dining area, and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips as if he’d done so a million times. It felt so natural. So right. So real. When his tongue touched hers, she gasped. Millions of nerves came alive, begging for him to take her.

  To make her his.

  He broke the kiss off, groaning, and rested his forehead on hers, his shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breath he took. He thrust his hips against hers, teasing her with his large hardness, and she moaned, letting her eyes close. “I gave you a kiss. I gave you what you asked for. If that’s all you want, tell me now.”

  She should stop here. Every single sane thought in her brain screamed for her to stop. To back off. She didn’t move.

  At her silence, he nodded once and stepped back. Running a hand down his face, he let out a ragged sigh and took another step backward toward the door. “I had a lovely night with you, Shel. Thank you for spending the evening with me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She watched him grab his jacket and walk toward the door. Collapsing against the wall, she touched her mouth, shivering. She could still feel him, his mouth on hers as his hands cradled her. She’d never felt so safe. So cherished. “I can’t fall for you.”

  “Then don’t,” he said, grabbing the knob.

  “I won’t. When I get a job offer, I’m out of here.”

  “I’ll help you pack,” he shot back, opening the door. “Good night, Shel.”

  “Wait,” she called out, stumbling after him. “Close the door.”

  “Shel…” he said, not closing the door.

  She walked up next to him, slammed it shut, and pushed him against it. He dropped his jacket and stared at her with wide eyes. “We’re both clear. No one will be falling for anyone.”

  He shook his head, his hands on her hips. “I swear I won’t fall for you. I don’t even think I know how to, if we’re being honest.”

  “And I swear not to fall for you,” she breathed, burying her hands in his hair. “Now kiss me, and don’t stop this time.”

  He closed the distance between them again, one hand sliding up her back to press her closer and the other cupping her butt. He claimed her, kissing her until all that was left in her mind was him. His hands. His tongue. His hardness pressed against her. She wasn’t sure if she remembered how to breathe anymore, but she didn’t care.

  Breathing was overrated. This was where it was at.

  In Eric’s arms.

  Chapter Eleven

  Everything he ever wanted, anything he ever dreamt of, was in his arms right now, and he wasn’t about to let go. He’d kissed lots of women. Fucked a few, too. But here, with Shelby’s lips pressed sweetly to his as he tasted her, was what it was all about. This was what books talked about, and songs sang about. It was a damn life-changing experience.

  Picking her up, he held her close as he walked toward her bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers. He pushed the door open and went inside, laying her down gently on her bed. He stepped back, taking a second to look around. It was dark, and he couldn’t see anything, which wouldn’t do. If he was going to make love to Shelby, he damn well wanted to be able to see it. “Light?”

  “By the door,” she said breathlessly.

  He crossed the darkness carefully and felt on the wall for the switch. His fingers found it, pushed it up, then he turned around. His breath stuck in his throat. She lay on the bed, one foot on the floor, the other on the edge of the bed, exactly where he’d laid her, and her hair fell around her beautiful face like waves of heaven—

  Wait just a goddamn second.

  Waves full of heaven.

  What the fuck did that even mean? He was losing his mind. Losing it in Shelby, and there wasn’t a damn thing to do to stop it. Even worse? He didn’t want to.

  “Eric?” she asked breathlessly, biting down on her plump lip. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just taking a second.”

  “For what?” she asked softly.

  “For you,” he said, crossing the room. He undid the first couple of buttons of his shirt and hauled it over his head without bothering with the rest. He let it drop and kicked his shoes off. “Do you have condoms, or do I need to go to my place?”

  She hesitated then pointed to the table by her bed. “There. Top drawer.”

  “Good,” he said, his voice thick. He went to the drawer, opened it, and pulled out a condom. After he tossed it on the pillow, he gave her his attention again, swallowing hard. She hadn’t moved. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Shel. You have no idea.”

  Her gaze was on his chest. Or maybe his abs. “Right now, you look like the gorgeous one to me. Are those real?”

  He laughed and touched his abs. “As opposed to fake ones?”

  “Yeah. Like spray paint, or whatever.” She licked her lips. “I need to touch you.”

  He undid his pants. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” she asked, shifting herself higher on her elbows.

  “Because I might forget that I need to make you scream my name if you make me scream yours first,” he said, letting his pants drop. All that was left was his boxers and socks. That was all that stood between him and the woman he wanted more than life itself. He knelt on the floor between her legs. Slowly, he pushed her skirt up her thighs, watching as he unveiled smooth, creamy skin. “I won’t make you fall for me, but baby, I’m gonna bring you to your damn knees.”

  His fingers grazed her core, brushing against the black satin panties she wore. He slid his hand down her thigh, over her calf, and slipped her shoes off her feet, one at a time. It was slow, torturous pleasure…a slow burn, just like he’d promised her.

  She threaded her hands through his hair and shifted her hips restlessly. “Eric…”

  He silently moved his hands back up her thighs, taking his time as he crept closer to where she needed him most. He rose on his knees, caught the sides of her panties, and tugged them down her legs until they hit the floor. He didn’t look at the present he unwrapped. Not yet.

  He flipped her skirt up and s
tared at her flesh. She was wet, and hot, and his. A broken groan escaped her, and she spread her thighs more. “Eric.”

  Without taking any longer, he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her. She cried out, digging her nails into his scalp, and lifted her hips, straining to get closer. He closed his mouth around her, rolling his tongue in circles, and gave her what she needed.

  Her cries got louder with each stroke of his tongue, and her hips thrashed as she moved against him urgently. The harder he moved against her, the louder she got, and it only made him need to be buried inside her even more. “Eric. Yes.”

  She lifted her hips again, rolling against his mouth, then froze, every muscle in her body tensing. He let go of her and stood, jerkily removing his boxers. She lay on the bed, trembling, legs spread, looking like an angel fallen from the sky, and all he could think about was making her scream like that again.

  Gripping her skirt, he tugged it down her legs. She grabbed her shirt and tore it off faster than he removed her skirt. As he stood there, staring at her, she undid her bra and tossed it.

  The second it was gone, she sat up, looked up at him through her lashes, and closed her mouth over his hard cock. He almost died.

  “Jesus,” he groaned, cupping her head and watching her tongue as she licked the tip. Watching her sweet pink mouth on him was almost too much. Closing his eyes to shut out the imagery that would make him lose his mind, he counted to ten, letting her have her fun, but that was all she was getting. By the time he finished his silent countdown, he was so tightly wound up that taking his time with her was off the shelf. “Enough.”

  He pushed her shoulders gently, and she flopped back on the mattress, breathing heavily. Her hard, pink nipples rose and fell with each inhale, and he stared at her for a second, memorizing how sexy she was before he climbed on top of her.

  The second his skin touched hers in all the right places, he was lost. Or found. Or both. His mouth sought hers. She tasted like soda, mixed with a unique flavor that was her. It was intoxicating, and for the first time in his life, he feared that he might never get enough.

  He skimmed his fingers over her skin, exploring her curves, learning her soft edges, not wanting to stop. When he squeezed her nipples between his fingers, she arched her back, gasping. He took that opportunity to move down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way to her breast. He sucked the hard bud into his mouth, scraping his teeth against it gently. Her nails scratched down his back, and she closed her legs on either side of him.

  Slowly, he slipped his fingers between her thighs, playing with her. She cried out, rocking against him, and cursed under her breath when he removed his touch.

  “Eric Hamilton, if you don’t take me right now—”

  He kissed her into silence, swallowing her words as he reached for the condom. A crinkle of the wrapper, and then he was rolling it into place. He pinched the tip, and then positioned himself between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, nodding.

  Still kissing her, he thrust into her heat.

  She burrowed her nails into his hair, holding on tight enough to sting, and he lost any semblance of control he still had. She cried out, meeting his every thrust, and when he reached between their bodies to touch her, she came, her walls squeezing his cock until he was sure he’d die. And when he came, there was nothing left inside of him except pleasure.

  Pure fucking pleasure.

  He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck because, Christ, he needed a second to compose himself before he attempted logical conversation. She ran her fingers up and down his back, and it felt good. Too damn good. What the hell just happened here? It felt like…like…he’d lost a piece of himself, and yet gained another in its place.

  It made no sense…

  And yet it did.

  “Wow,” Shelby breathed, her hands freezing on his back. “That was…”

  “Yeah,” he said when she didn’t finish. He couldn’t think of a single word in the English language that would describe what just happened, either. Pulling back, he looked down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and crazy hair that he’d given her when he took her to bed. He wanted to do it again. “Shit.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What?”

  “I’m still hungry,” he admitted.

  Her lips twitched, and she skimmed her fingers down his arm, making his still hard cock harden even more as she rocked her hips up, taking him in even deeper than he’d been. “Me, too.”

  And then she kissed him.

  If he’d died and gone to heaven…

  Then may he rest in peace in Shelby’s arms for all eternity.

  Chapter Twelve

  “And we look forward to speaking with you about the possibilities our town might hold for you. If you could call us back at—” Shelby scribbled the number down, biting her lip as she did so. The message ended, and she hung up, her heart pounding against her ribs.

  It was happening.

  It was finally happening…

  The night after she had sex with Eric Hamilton.

  She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the man who slumbered in her bed. Last night, they’d had sex countless times, and she’d barely slept at all, and yet she was more energized than she’d been in…well…ever. Being with Eric like that, having him bring her to orgasm over and over again, had been life changing. She’d only been with two other guys her whole life, so she’d never known what she was missing between the sheets until now.

  Until Eric.

  He was a god.

  Even now, after a night filled with mind-numbing pleasure so intense she half suspected she’d died and gone to heaven, her body throbbed for another taste.

  He was addictive.

  If she didn’t watch herself, she just might get hooked.

  He stirred, stretching and letting out a yawn. His hard chest flexed with each move, and she stared at him, her mouth watering because she knew exactly what his crisp chest hair felt like under her hands, the way his mouth felt against her as he drove her wild, and how frigging good he was at making her scream for more even when she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

  She wasn’t sure how to talk to him now that they’d done things to each other she’d only dreamed about alone in her bed for years. His eyes fluttered open and locked on her. When he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in her hand, he frowned. “Shit. What time is it?”

  “Eight—”

  “Fuck,” he said, rolling out of the bed in one fluid, naked, hot motion. He stepped into his boxers, the veins in his arms sticking out. “I have a meeting at nine. Can you be ready to go in ten minutes?”

  “I don’t have to be in until ten.” She stood, hugging herself, dressed in the oversize T-shirt she’d thrown on when she woke up. “I’ll ride the bus in.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, holding his pants in his hand.

  “Absolutely.” She wiggled her phone. “I have to make a call before I go in to the courthouse, anyway.”

  He stared at her phone. “Anything important?”

  “No,” she said quickly, not really sure why she didn’t tell him about her possible job offer, but knowing she had no intention of doing so…yet. “Nothing.”

  “Pick you up after work?”

  “If you want.” She nodded, fisting her hands in her lap. “No pressure.”

  He pulled back, staring down at her way too intently. “Are you okay?”

  “Y-Yes.” She un-fisted and then re-fisted her hands. “I’m just not sure what comes next, I guess. You told me once that usually after you sleep with someone, you’re done, so—?”

  “I’m not done with you,” he said gently, sitting beside her. “I’m planning on making love to you as many times as I can before you leave the city. Unless…do you only want it to be once?”

  She shook her head once. “I’m still starving.”

  “Me, too,” he said with a smile. “On that note, I’ll pick you
up at the courthouse at five?”

  A quick nod. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Good.” He cradled her face in his hand and leaned in, kissing her again. “If you decide you want out, it’s easy enough. Just tell me. No strings. No attachments. Just us, having fun.”

  “Just us,” she echoed. “If you want out, too—”

  “I’ll tell you,” he said, smiling. “Don’t worry. I’m good at that part. It’s the wanting to stick around you part that’s freaking me the fuck out.”

  A small laugh escaped her. “Sorry.”

  “I know. It’s a horrible habit of yours, making me like you.”

  “I’ll try to stop,” she offered with a smile.

  “Good.” He tossed his pants and shirt over his shoulder. “Wish me luck. I’m hoping no one’s out there.”

  Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Are you walking to your apartment in your boxers?”

  “Yep,” he called over his shoulder. “Bye, Shel.”

  The door shut, and she laughed, flopping back on the bed and staring up at her ceiling. Right now, Eric Hamilton was walking down the hallway mostly naked, with messy hair that she’d messed up with her own fingers, and there was nothing that could make this day any better than it already was. If she got a solid job offer after this phone call, it might go down in history as the best day ever in existence. Kicking her feet, she let out an excited squeal.

  Her phone dinged, so she rolled onto her stomach and kicked her feet into the air as she read the text message Eric sent her. Almost made it to my place safely. Let’s just say…Mrs. Abernathy might be having a heart attack right now.

  Mrs. Abernathy was at least eighty, and was happiest when unhappy. Chuckling, she typed back: Oh my God. What did she say?!

  My dear. You’ve sure been working out.

  Laughing, she covered her mouth. No. She didn’t.

  Yes, she did. And then she touched my arm and said I was hard as a rock.

  I don’t believe you. She shook her head, still smiling.

  Why not? You’ve felt my arms.

  Rolling her eyes, she flopped onto her back and rested the phone on her chest. She did not feel you up.