The CEO's Seduction (A Hamilton Family Series)

Home > Other > The CEO's Seduction (A Hamilton Family Series) > Page 10
The CEO's Seduction (A Hamilton Family Series) Page 10

by Diane Alberts


  Her breath got stuck somewhere in her throat. His possessive tone did weird things to her body. She quivered and pressed her thighs together to relieve the ache he’d awoken. “Is that so?”

  His hands tightened on her legs, and his eyes darkened. “Yes, that’s so.”

  “Hmm…” She couldn’t resist teasing him, even though she’d always been his, and they both probably knew it. “I don’t know about that. We’ll have to see.”

  He grabbed her hair and tugged on it gently, tipping her head back. He bit down on her neck, and she shuddered. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

  “Or what?” she murmured, grabbing his waist.

  He nibbled on her ear and slid his hands in between her legs. He traced her folds and pressed his thumb against her clit. “Or I’ll make you beg until you cry from frustration, and even then, I’ll make you wait some more.” He rubbed his thumb in a lazy circle. Already, her body lurched to life. Begged for more. “You have no idea how long I could torture you for.” He slid a finger inside her, thrusting hard. “What I could do to you.”

  A whimper escaped her, and she bit down on her tongue to kill it before someone heard. “Do your worst, Brett.”

  “Say it.” Though this had started as a game, she couldn’t miss the hard edge to his voice. He lowered his head and kissed the swell of her breast. “Say it for me.”

  She dug her fingers into his skin, letting out a jagged breath. “I’m yours.”

  He dropped his head on her shoulder, drawing in a ragged breath, and thrust his fingers inside her again, harder. “Anna, I…” Pulling back, he opened his mouth, and then closed it with a shake of his head, withdrawing his touch without finishing his sentence. He closed down the emotion in his face, watching her without giving away his thoughts. “Are you ready to go up?”

  She wasn’t sure whether to hug him or hit him.

  Maybe both.

  Trembling from the spiraled emotions and desire swirling inside her, she nodded and hopped off the counter. She followed him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, her hand oddly empty without his inside it. What had he been about to say? Would she have wanted to hear it, or would it have broken her heart?

  They climbed the stairs in silence and entered her room without a sound. She locked it behind her and leaned against it, not sure what to say next. He headed straight for her bed, his steps sure and steady. He sat down on the edge and set the cookies on her nightstand. She watched him, wanting to remember this night forever.

  Because it wouldn’t happen again.

  This was a onetime deal.

  When he held up an open wine cooler for her, she pushed off the door and crossed the room. The closer she came to him, the darker his eyes became, and the faster her heartbeat sounded in her ears. She stood in front of him, her thighs brushing his knees. Grabbing the bottle out of his hands, she saluted him with it. “Thank you.”

  He grabbed her by the hips and yanked her into his lap. She threw a quick glance at the drink in her hand, but it hadn’t spilled all over the floor. “No. Thank you.”

  She swallowed hard and set down her drink. “Don’t thank me yet. We have all night.”

  He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Right. We shouldn’t waste a second of that time together, right?”

  “Right.” She swallowed hard. “We have to enjoy this before the guilt sets in.”

  “Guilt?” His brows rose, and he looked at her as if she’d asked him if he knew where Noah’s lost ark was. “I feel a lot of things I’m not familiar with after being in your arms, Anna, but guilt isn’t one of them. I think I mostly held you at a distance because…” He broke off, his jaw flexing. “Because I knew if I let you get too close, I might not be able to forget how good it felt. How good you felt. I’m scared as hell, and not sure what to do with you, or this, or the way you make me feel. But I’m not feeling guilty.”

  She hesitated, not sure what to do with all that—especially since he sounded so pissed off about it all. “Good. Me, either.”

  He choked on a laugh. “Don’t talk about the future. Not now.”

  She nodded, but she already knew what came next. He went back to his penthouse in the city, and she went back to loving him from afar. “You’re right. We should just enjoy our night, since it’s our first and last together.”

  His brows slammed down, and his hand stopped exploring the curve of her thigh. “What do you mean?”

  “Because we agreed to one night.” She blinked at him, caught off guard at the anger in his voice. “Remember?”

  “I remember our conversation perfectly fucking fine. But that was before I kissed you. Before I made love to you,” he growled. “You’re mine. You said it.”

  Her jaw miiiiight have just hit the floor. “B-But you told me all you could give me was a night–”

  “I was trying to scare you away. I wouldn’t have touched you if I only wanted a night. I wouldn’t use you like that.” He hesitated, his mouth held tight. “Unless that’s all you want?”

  She shook her head slowly, hope taking flight in her chest. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me, Brett. I’ll take it all.”

  “I’ll give you everything I can, even though it probably won’t be enough.”

  She kissed him. She just wanted to bask in this moment before he ruined it all by saying he could never love her like she loved him.

  Pulling back, she smiled up at him with tears clouding her vision. She didn’t know how long this version of Brett would last, but she would enjoy it while it did, thank you very much. “I don’t need anything more than this.”

  “I’m serious.” He flexed his jaw. “I want to see how far this thing can go.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to ignore those words. Sure, he meant them right now, but would he feel the same way tomorrow? “You don’t have to say these things because we slept together. It’s just sex.”

  He clenched his jaw. “It’s not just sex. I—”

  “Shh.” She pressed her fingers against his lips. “Don’t. Don’t say anything unless you’re certain you mean it. I couldn’t stand it if you say these things and then push me away again. So for now, let’s say nothing.”

  “I won’t change my damn mind,” he said, his voice hard. “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before, but with you, I’ll try my damn best.”

  Her determination to ignore him shattered, but she wouldn’t give in to the desire to believe him. To hold him close and never let him go. “If you still feel that way by the end of this weekend, then I’ll believe you. But not until then.”

  He frowned. “I—”

  He needed to stop talking before she started believing him, so she picked up a cookie and shoved it in his mouth. When his eyes went all wide in surprise, she couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped. She covered her mouth, but was too slow.

  He heard it.

  And saw it.

  “What? I quite clearly said no more talking allowed. You should have listened to me.”

  When his eyes narrowed on her, she lunged for the side of the bed to get out of striking range. She only barely brushed the floor with her toes before he snatched her up and flung her on the bed. He climbed on top of her, pinning her between his body and the mattress. Holding her hands above her head, he swallowed the cookie and grinned down at her. “Fine. We won’t talk. But I can think of better ways to shut you up than shoving food in your mouth.”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” His gaze dropped down to her mouth, and her stomach clenched in desire. He lowered his mouth down to hers, his tongue slipping between her parted lips instantly. He released her wrist and trailed his fingers down her arm, over her shoulder, and cupped her breast through the fabric of her satin gown. His fingers tugged at her nipple with expert precision, with the perfect amount of pressure, and she squirmed as a jolt of want shot through her veins.

  Oh God, how she wanted.

  She grabbed his
shoulder with her free hand, jostling his shoulder. He stopped kissing her, blinking down at her in confusion. “What?”

  “We’re not doing this again.”

  He sat back on his haunches. “Why not?”

  She took a deep breath and then shot him a smile. “Because last time I didn’t get to taste you.” She shoved him backward so he lay flat on the bed and then straddled him. “It’s my turn to be in charge.”

  He groaned and clenched his fists. “There you go again, bossing me around.”

  “It’s only fair,” she agreed.

  She trailed her fingers down his chest, over his abs, and cupped his erection. He hissed through his teeth, arching into her hand. She massaged his hardness, dropping a kiss on his shoulder, and nipped his chest. Sliding down his body, she licked his abs and lowered his pants.

  When she had him naked—exactly how she wanted him—she pulled him to his feet. As she lowered herself to the floor, he groaned and threaded his hands through her hair. “You know how many times I fantasized about this when I was alone in bed, with nothing more than a hard cock and my hand?”

  He had? When?

  She flicked her tongue over the tip of his penis, and he let out a tortured groan. When she closed her lips around his erection, his stomach muscles clenched, and he held on to her hair so tight it hurt. “Jesus, Anna.”

  She took him in deeper, sucking harder, and rolled her tongue over the head. He groaned, sounding as if she might be killing him, and thrust his hips again. Going deeper into her mouth. The salty flavor of his pleasure teased her tongue, and she wanted more than anything to make him come with her mouth.

  Apparently, he had a different idea.

  Without warning, he cursed and pulled her off of him, spinning her around in his arms. With his hand still firmly embedded in her hair, he bent her over the bed. His free hand ran down her back, and then slid around the side of her hip. He dipped his hand in between her legs, running his finger in a circle around her clit.

  She whimpered and curled the comforter into her fists. “Brett…please.”

  He groaned and entered her from behind with one sure, hard stroke. She let out a cry, arching back into him, her nails digging into the mattress. He held on to her hips and deepened his thrusts. Her stomach tightened with pleasure. He didn’t go slowly or gently this time. He made love to her hard, rough, and fast.

  And she needed him so much it hurt.

  Positioning himself differently, he reached around to the front of her body, where they were joined, and rubbed her clit in hard, fast circles. This, combined with his sure rhythm, sent her skittering over the edge within seconds.

  “Anna,” he moaned, thrusting inside her a few more times before he climaxed, too. He collapsed against her back, his breathing harsh and loud. “One of these times, I’ll last longer with you. You’re too damn tantalizing right now, though.”

  “I have no complaints,” she said, grinning.

  If he lost control with her, then she could be perfectly happy with her effect on him. She’d rather have him be furiously in need of her than cold and controlled in her arms. He withdrew from her, picked her up, and laid her down in the middle of the bed. Climbing in beside her, he pulled her into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair. “Can I stay the night again?”

  Of course she wanted him to stay.

  Forever, preferably.

  But instead of admitting that, she simply nodded and buried her face in the pillow. “Sure.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t going to leave, anyway. I was asking to sound polite,” he said, his voice light and teasing. He played with a strand of her hair, yawning at the same time. “And Anna?”

  She traced a path over his chest, her mind drifting off to sleep already. “Hmm?”

  “Just so you know”—he lifted her chin and kissed her lips lightly—“I’m still not feeling guilty.”

  He yawned again, and within seconds his soft snore filled the room. And for the first time all night, she let herself hope that he would keep feeling not-guilty. She let herself hope that when she woke up in the morning…

  He’d still be there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brett stretched his arms over his head and looked out the dining room window. The fog was beginning to lift, and the day looked as if it had the promise of being a gorgeous one. It would be a perfect day for sneaking away with Anna—if she could figure out a way to leave her brothers in the shadows. Or he could tug her into the shadows, and have his way with her, and not give a damn about her brothers for once.

  A smile sneaked onto his face without him even realizing it.

  And even after he realized he was literally lit up like a fucking flare gun, he still didn’t stop smiling. That’s how damn happy he was because of her. And it got him thinking… Maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for Anna after all.

  He was fucked.

  She’d turned him into one of those men who didn’t even bother to hide his happiness from the other people in the room. Hopefully everyone was too busy getting ready for the wedding to notice how much of an idiot he’d become.

  He checked his watch and eyed the door to the dining room again.

  Nine fifteen. She never slept past nine in the morning.

  Where the hell was she? Had he kept her up too late last night?

  Damn, he hoped so. And he planned on doing it tonight, too.

  There it was again. That shit-eating grin.

  He ran a hand down his face, wiping it away, and crossed the room, sitting down next to her father. Eventually he would have to tell the man about his feelings for Anna—whatever those feelings were. The older man had been more of a father figure for him than his own flesh and blood, but he wasn’t ready to talk about Anna.

  Not yet.

  At this point, he wanted nothing more than to keep their newfound happiness to themselves. Brett smiled at Anna’s father as he sat down next to him. “Good morning, Mr. Hamilton.”

  “Morning, Brett.” He clapped Brett on the shoulder and grinned. “Happy to see you back home where you belong. How’s life in Atlanta treating you?”

  Brett set his coffee down carefully. “Good, sir. I’m enjoying running my father’s company. It’s been nice getting away from, well, here.”

  “We’ve missed you. You should come back more often.”

  He shrugged and laughed uneasily. If he managed to make whatever he and Anna had going on work…he might be in this house a hell of a lot more. And hopefully that wouldn’t be an unwelcome change. “We’ll see, sir.”

  The older man looked at him with sharp eyes that looked remarkably similar to Anna’s. “I saw your aunt and uncle the other day. They told me you hadn’t been answering their calls, and they needed money.”

  Brett rolled his hands into fists. If they were complaining of their lack of money, he should be hearing from them soon…even though he had given them a few grand just a couple of weeks ago. “I’ll have to check in on them soon.”

  “Why bother?” Anna’s father set his mug down. “I saw them in the airport on their way to Maui. Kind of hard to believe they’re on their way to the poorhouse when they’re wearing designer clothes and holding first-class tickets in their greedy little hands. I say change your number and move out of their reach. Let them fend for themselves for once in their lives.”

  Brett clenched his jaw. He wished he could do what Mr. Hamilton suggested. Cut them off. But every time he got close to denying them, he wondered what his parents would think of his refusal to support their only remaining family. Would they approve?

  Or would they be disappointed in him?

  It’s the only thing that wouldn’t let him ignore them.

  The doubt.

  He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to defend himself or bother to make excuses for his family. He never did. They only wanted to make him look like a villain because they had to beg him for money now, instead of the other way around. Except he actually gave th
em money, instead of refusing. So he said nothing at all.

  Mr. Hamilton pressed his lips together. “It’s a damn shame they act the way they do. At the very least, you’d think he would get a job so you wouldn’t have to support them anymore. What kind of man is all right with having his hand out all of the time?” Brett opened his mouth to give an answer as neutral as Switzerland, but Mr. Hamilton didn’t seem to actually want an answer. He jabbed a finger toward Brett, his gray hair flying from the force of his motions. “One with no self-respect. That’s who.”

  “Raising me was their only job, and they did it,” Brett cited from memory. He had that line of reasoning shoved down his throat every time they called him to ask for money. “So now it’s my job to support them.”

  “Raised you?” Mr. Hamilton snorted. “Is that what they did? Could’ve fooled me. It looked more like they took your money and left you behind in the dust.”

  Brett smiled politely, but remained silent on the matter.

  He wouldn’t sit here bitching and moaning about his past. The truth was, he didn’t give a damn. He’d been a kid. He’d grown up. And now he was a man.

  End of story.

  There were plenty of people who had it a lot worse than him, and he wouldn’t forget that. After all, he constantly saw the perfect example in the children’s eyes every time he volunteered at Saint Michael’s Orphanage. And it never ceased to haunt him.

  At least he hadn’t ended up there.

  With absolutely nothing.

  And those children were the reason why he would never have any of his own. What if, God forbid, he did have a child, and he died? Who would care for the kid after he was gone? Another set of greedy, distant relatives? Or an orphanage?

  Fuck no.

  Not his kid.

  He’d seen enough death to last him a lifetime.

  When he glanced at the doorway again, the breath in his lungs literally choked him. Anna stood across the room next to Cole and Wyatt, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in her soft knit pink shirt, paired with tan khakis. He’d seen her in ball gowns, dresses, miniskirts—and last night, he’d even seen her in nothing at all.

 

‹ Prev