She swallowed a moan. Actually, he was right. She’d come here to tell him about her job offer and toast to it. But when he looked at her like that… “Is that so?”
He nodded, not speaking, and backed her against his desk. “I missed you. I’m happy you came to see me.”
She perched on the edge, where he’d put her, and tipped her head back. “I missed you, too. I guess I got used to having you around after work. My apartment felt…”
“Empty?” he supplied, stepping between her thighs.
“So empty,” she agreed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I can fix that,” he whispered into her ear. His hands slid down her back, and he nestled his body in between her thighs. When he touched her, rubbing against her sensitive flesh, she gasped out loud. “Want me to fix it for you, Shel?”
She nodded frantically. “Yes, please.”
He kissed her as he shoved her panties aside, his fingers moving over her as his hips thrusted at the same time. Both actions, together like that, were enough to make her nipples harden and her entire body come alive. Every time he touched her, her response to him was stronger than before. If her body kept this up, she’d be internally combusting before she left for Texas. Thinking about leaving him added a tinge of desperation to her kiss as she clung to him, rocking her hips against him urgently.
She felt his surprise at her jerkiness, but he dropped to his knees, bringing his head level with her thighs. He, like always, knew what she needed, and put her first. It was one of the things she loved about him. “Eric,” she breathed, gripping the edge of the desk.
He didn’t say a word.
Just ripped her panties off and buried his face between her legs.
His tongue touched her, and she closed her eyes, letting the magic of his touch take over. Every stroke of his tongue or graze of his teeth sent her closer to the edge until she was finally soaring over it without a fear of falling, because if she did, he’d catch her.
He stood up, undid his pants with steady hands, and let them hit the floor. A crinkle of a wrapper, and then his mouth was on hers as he positioned himself between her legs and thrust inside her in one long, sure stroke. She came again, crying out his name into his mouth, and the whole world faded away until all that was left was pleasure and a need to have Eric in her arms, inside her body, for as long as time allowed.
He cradled the back of her head, threading his hand between strands of her hair, and deepened the kiss, burying himself inside her as far as he could go, pulling out, and thrusting back in. He did that over and over again, faster, harder, until she was trembling and biting her tongue to keep from crying out loud and bringing people running into his office.
Reaching between them, he touched her sensitive flesh and thrust inside her, angling his hips so he hit a spot that made her fly into the pleasure-filled haze where he sent her. He joined her, his body tensing as he hugged her tightly against her chest and didn’t let her go as she came back down. When she was firmly on the ground again, her breathing still ragged, she realized she’d been digging her nails into his shoulders this whole time.
“Sorry,” she breathed, releasing him.
“Don’t be.” He backed up, smiling at her, and kissed the tip of her nose. Never, in the course of her life, had anything ever felt more intimate than him kissing her nose while still buried inside her, in his office, of all places. It stole her breath away and blurred her vision for some odd reason. “I like it. Now…about that champagne…?”
He pulled out of her slowly and made his way across his office. With his back to her, he removed the condom and went into the bathroom. When he came out, he was drying his hands off, and his pants were back in place. The only indications that they’d just had sex on his desk were her sore thighs and the pleasure still making her limbs all tingly and weak.
She stood, picked up her panties, and went into his bathroom, too, closing the door behind her. Geez, who the heck had a private bathroom in their office?
Junior partners. That’s who.
After washing up and sliding her panties up her legs, she walked back out, still trembling. Now it was time to tell him about her job offer. Enough chickening out.
She walked into the office with every intention of doing so—but then saw he wasn’t alone. His assistant James stood with his back to the bathroom, talking to Eric in a low voice.
When Eric saw her come out, he did a quick scan to make sure she was presentable, then nodded in her direction. “Speaking of… There she is.”
James turned, smiled, and held his hand out. “Ms. Jefferson. Lovely to see you again.”
“Likewise,” she said, sliding her hand into his and smiling. He squeezed hers then let go. “Are you working late, too?”
“Yes, I just ran out to get dinner for us.” He gestured toward the two Styrofoam to-go containers. “You’re welcome to eat mine if you’re hungry. I can go grab—”
“No. God, no.” She stepped back, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I wouldn’t dream of taking your dinner. I’ll leave you guys to it. And Eric?”
He stepped closer. “Yeah?”
“You owe me a bottle of cold champagne.”
He bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be by later tonight, once I’m finished here.”
“Good.” She patted his chest, gathered her bags, and headed for the door. “Enjoy your dinner, boys.”
They both said something in reply, then she shut the door behind her. As soon as it clicked, she leaned on the wall next to it, taking a calming breath. The relief she was trying not to feel was piercing and immediate. She’d had every intention of telling him about her offer…
That was a lie. It was all a lie.
For some reason she didn’t fully understand, she was scared to tell him she was leaving, and until she looked deep into her soul and examined the reasons behind her reluctance to fess up, she had no business talking to him about it. Her news would wait until she was good and ready…
Even if her future wouldn’t.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re kidding me, right?” Shelby asked, her jaw dropping. She looked so comfortable sitting cross-legged next to him. They sat on the couch sideways, facing one another. Her long legs kept distracting him from the topic at hand. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”
“I’m dead serious.” He held his hand up, forcing a serious expression onto his face. It was harder than it should have been, because around Shelby all he wanted to do was smile. “Scout’s honor.”
She pursed her lips, looking even more doubtful than before. “Wait. You were a Boy Scout?”
“Eagle Scout, actually.”
She leaned back, shooting him a look. “Now I know you’re lying. There’s no way you’re an outdoorsy guy who hikes and sleeps in the woods,” she said, picking up her champagne and taking a sip. “I’m calling bullshit.”
They had been talking for hours now, and it was well past the time that he should have gone to bed to get a full night’s sleep, but they were sharing stories of their past, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted to know everything about her, and she seemed just as eager to learn about him. His latest share, that he slept in the Hamilton house that Alexander Hamilton once slept in, was the one she was apparently having a hard time swallowing.
He frowned. “Why do you think I couldn’t be an Eagle Scout?”
“I’ve never seen you in anything less than a suit and tie, with shiny shoes and a matching belt.” She gestured toward his outfit. He’d loosened his tie, but he was still wearing his customary button-up shirt, designer suit, and shiny leather shoes. “You gonna wear that in the woods?”
“I have jeans and T-shirts,” he said defensively.
“Oh yeah? And when was the last time you wore them?”
He thought about that for a second. “When I painted Anna’s new place with my brothers.”
“How many brothers do you have, anyway?” she asked, tucking her hair beh
ind her ears.
“Three. I’m the second oldest.”
She smiled distantly. “I never had any siblings, but I always wanted some. It seemed nice, having built-in friends that you could count on to be there when you needed someone.”
“Unless I’m your brother.” He stared out her window, lost in thought, focusing on the top of the Bank of America Plaza. Back when they were kids, he’d been tight with all his siblings, but life took over, and he’d just been so damn busy. It had happened slowly, his disconnect from his family. So slowly he hadn’t even noticed it until it was too late. “Then you don’t have built-in friends.”
“You helped paint Anna’s place with the rest of your siblings,” she pointed out. “It couldn’t have been all bad.”
He was there when they needed them, so he guessed she had a point. Still, though. He intended to be more there for them than he had been in the past. He planned on changing.
On being better.
“I guess. Anyway, besides Anna, there’s Cole, Wyatt, and Chris. Chris is a cop, and just got married. Cole’s a Marine, and he’s never home.” He hesitated, because the second he told her who Wyatt was, she’d probably get starry-eyed like all the other girls out there. It didn’t usually bother him—it kind of came part and parcel with having a famous brother—but with Shelby…it fucking bothered him. “Then there’s Wyatt. He’s—”
“Oh my God.” Her jaw dropped. “Is he the starting quarterback for the Saviors? The cute one?”
And there it was. “Yep. That’s him, though, I don’t know that I’d call him cute.”
“Wow.” She laughed, pressing her glass against those lips he loved to kiss so damn much. “So you’re not just a Hamilton, you’re that Hamilton family.”
“You seem more impressed with that than with my direct line to a founding father.” He eyed her. “Interesting.”
“Well, he’s got a knack for racking up points on the board.”
He rolled his eyes. “Among other things.”
“I’d imagine.” She sipped her drink, watching him. “He popular with the girls?”
“Is that an actual question?” he asked drily.
“Is that jealousy I detect?” she shot back right away.
“Hell no. I don’t get jealous.” He rubbed his jaw. “Yes, he’s popular with girls… Something he takes full advantage of.”
“I bet,” she said, chuckling. “Does he wear jeans?”
“All the damn time.” He lifted his glass to her. “He camps, too, with Cole.”
She blinked dramatically. “Well, then, he won’t be racking up this girl, then. I prefer suits, ties, sensible button-up shirts, and four walls around me at all times.” She paused for a second. “Any of your brothers fit that description? Wanna hook a girl up?”
“Ha-ha.” He tapped her on her perfect little nose. “So funny.”
She grinned. “I can’t resist teasing you sometimes. I’m sorry.”
“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her gently. “And I can’t resist kissing you. Sorry.”
She licked her lips, where his had been moments before. It took all of his control not to remove the champagne from her hand and have his way with her. “I think I can handle that if you can handle mine.”
“Deal.” Of course, it wouldn’t be a deal forever, because sooner or later she would be gone, and that didn’t sit well in the bottom of his stomach anymore. “I really did sleep in the Hamilton house, you know. Like I said, we’re believed to be descendants of his.”
At first she just stared at him, but then she let out a small laugh. “A Hamilton and a Jefferson, being friends. What would they have said?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Me, either. But, hey, it works.”
“Yeah.” It worked a little too well, if you asked him. “So you believe me now?”
“I guess so.” She gave him a once-over. “Mr. Eagle Scout.”
He gave her the Scout’s Salute. “Ma’am.”
She snort-laughed.
It was fucking adorable.
“I was a Girl Scout, but I dropped out after Brownies.” She smiled, a far-off look in her eyes. “When they told me I had to go camping, I told my Mom I was never going back.”
He laughed. “And you made fun of me for not being able to rough it?”
“Do you still camp?”
“Hell no,” he said immediately.
She nudged him with her knee. “See? I was right. You’re not the camping type of guy.”
“And you’re not a camping type of girl.”
“Seems we’re well suited, I guess.” She smiled. “Good thing we’re already friends.”
Yeah. Friends. “What are your parents like?”
“Uh…” She pursed her lips. “Understanding. Too understanding, maybe. When I came out here, they told me I was making a mistake, but that when it all fell apart, they’d be waiting for me with open arms.”
He shifted, resting his elbows on his thighs and crossing his ankles. “But you didn’t go back. Why not?”
“I wanted to prove them wrong. Wanted to show them I could do this alone and succeed.” She lifted her chin. “They, of course, supported that, too.”
“They sound nice.” He stared at the bubbles in his champagne. “Have they ever come to see you here?”
“Yes. You met them, once, in the elevator. You held it open for my dad a month or so ago, and he told me about ‘the nice boy down the hall.’ It wasn’t hard to figure out who he meant.” She flinched. “I might have told him you were an asshole. Sorry.”
“I was an asshole.” He shrugged. “I like to think I’m not anymore, though.”
“You weren’t an asshole. I just didn’t know you.”
He locked eyes with her. “Now you do?”
“I like to think I do,” she said softly, echoing his words.
“Hey, earlier at dinner, it seemed like you had something you wanted to say.” As a matter of fact, she’d seemed like she’d had something to say for a week now, but nothing ever came out when she opened her mouth. “If you want to tell me something, I’m here.”
She turned away, gulping down her champagne.
He reached out, grabbed the bottle, and refilled her glass. “You look like you’re going to need this. Is it that bad? Let me guess. You’re actually a panda bear, and you’re returning to your people tomorrow.”
A small laugh escaped her. “How’d you guess?”
“I’m just that good,” he said, dragging out his words to sound exasperated.
She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “Goof.”
“Seriously.” He set the bottle down and rested a hand on her knee. “What’s up?”
“I just…” She opened her mouth, closed it, and then smiled. “I like you, Eric.”
“I like you, too,” he said immediately, his heart skipping a beat like a fucking teenage girl’s. Around Shelby, he kind of felt like one. Like everything in life was new and exciting and fresh. “Being with you is nice. You’ve shown me it isn’t necessarily better to be alone. Not when you’re with the right person, anyway.”
Her lower lip trembled. “You think I’m the right person?”
“Well…” He ran a hand through his hair, knowing he was in a tricky position here. Because, fuck yeah, he thought she was the right person. But she wanted to leave, and he didn’t want to seem like he was trying to stop her. He wasn’t. “You’re the right person for now.”
She leaned back a little, studying him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I like being with you, but it’s going to end soon.”
Nodding, she avoided his eyes. He could feel her jumping nerves from his position on the couch. “What if I don’t get a job soon? What then? Do we still end it? Do we stop, before things drag on for too long and become confusing?”
He stared at her, not knowing what to say.
Of course he didn’t want to end things yet.
He
wasn’t done with her, damn it.
“You’ll get a job. When you do, we stop. Until then?” He lifted a shoulder casually, even though he felt anything but. “We keep going. Unless you’re ready to call it quits?”
“I’m not,” she said, refreshingly honest like always. “Not even close. I, too, have learned that being with someone like you isn’t a bad thing. I’ve been alone for so long that I didn’t really know what this”—she gestured between them—“would feel like.”
His grip on her knee flexed. “What does it feel like for you?”
“Like I’m standing on the edge of a really high cliff, one where I can’t even see the bottom, and I’m taking a deep breath. The air is so clean, so crisp, and it fills my lungs. I get a little lightheaded, and I know I’m going to fall… But I can’t tell if I’m going to fall back onto safe land, or down to the unknown abyss.”
He swallowed hard. She’d pretty much explained how he felt about her to a T. “Which one am I—the cliff, or the ground behind you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Both options feel scary, but if I could figure out which one you were, I think I’d let myself fall that way.”
His heart beat against his ribs, and all he could think was: Do it. Fall. I’ll catch you, and I’ll never let go. But that wasn’t fair to her. “Shel…”
“Shh.” She leaned forward, touching her finger to his mouth. “You don’t have to say anything.”
There was so much he wanted to say, though.
He cupped her face, staring into her eyes so deeply he felt like he might be lost in them forever, and he didn’t really give a damn. He enjoyed everything about her, and there was no shame in that. Her sense of humor. Her laugh. Her smile. The way she bit her lip when she was worried. The way she made him feel. The way he made her feel.
He loved everything about Sh—
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
Had he just used that four-letter word in the same sentence with a woman’s name? Was he falling in love with Shelby Jefferson?
No. He couldn’t be. Not even he was that stupid. There could be no excuse for doing the one thing he’d promised not to do. He’d sworn he wouldn’t fall for her, and he damn well wouldn’t. He just liked her a lot.
Romancing the Bachelor (A Hamilton Family Series) Page 10