The Trouble With Bachelors (Windy City Bachelors Book 1)

by Caitlyn Blue

  “Looks like Paul and Julie are here,” he murmurs, his lips drifting over my ear, awakening bone deep shivers.

  The urge to go back for another taste of his lips is tempered by the realization that we’re standing in front of my parents’ house.

  “I suppose we should go in.” My voice is husky and low.

  Zach responds by seizing my earlobe between his straight white teeth and making a sound of reluctance deep in his throat. “We’d better. Much more of this and I’m not going to be presentable.”

  The ease with which we turn each other on is nothing short of wonderful, but this is neither the time nor the place.

  “Later,” I promise, pulling back. “At your place.”

  “At my place.” He shoots a quick wink my way, but lines of strain around his mouth tell me he’s not as relaxed as he’s pretending. As tempted as I am to reach for Zach’s hand as we enter my parents’ house, I’m not sure what’s going on between us.

  “Zach,” Mom exclaims as we enter the house through the side door that leads into the kitchen. “So glad you could join us for dinner.” Her gaze comes back to me and question marks whirl in her eyes, even though I called ahead and warned her I was bringing him. “Julie and Paul are here as well. I don’t think the house has been this busy since you girls moved out.”

  My mom doesn’t mean this as criticism. She’s the furthest from passive-aggressive you can get. I take after her in that. Julie and my dad are far more likely to get in a few well-placed digs. I love my dad, but he has a way of making his unhappiness clear.

  I’d already explained to my mom about calling Zach and how we worked out some ideas for the shop. She’s as eager to salvage things as I am, but the two of us against my dad are never enough. With Zach behind us, we might be evenly matched. Of course, I wasn’t counting on Julie putting in her two cents. It’s really none of her business, but I can’t imagine her staying silent.

  Again, I resist the urge to grab Zach’s hand and instead head to the refrigerator. As I peer in, a sitcom laugh track drifts in from the living room.

  “Do you want a beer?” I ask Zach, and then pull one out without waiting for his answer. “Looks like Paul brought something new for us to try.” I hand him a beer and snag a nearly empty bottle of chardonnay. After shooing him out of the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of wine.

  “When I spoke to Julie earlier,” I say, “she didn’t say anything about coming by tonight.”

  “Your sister is worried about what’s going to happen to you if we close the store.”

  This irritates me more than anything else that I’ve heard all day. Suddenly, it’s as if we’re kids again and she’s my fabulous older sister that I’ll never in a million years be better than no matter what I do or how hard I work.

  “It’s really none of her business,” I mutter.

  “Emma Rose,” my mom scolds, but it’s more out of habit than dismay.

  “What? She doesn’t care about the store or me. All she worries about is her wedding.” Resentment at my sister bubbles over. Part of me is shocked by the intensity of the emotion. This has been building for a long time. I love my sister—despite her being an entitled pain in the ass—but ever since Zach and I started spending more time together, I’ve grown way more impatient with her. “I don’t understand why she’s here.”

  Mom shakes her head. “Please, can you not get upset with her tonight? This whole situation with the business is stressful enough.”

  I immediately feel horrible. “I’m sorry, Mom. It sucks that we have to close the store and move, but I really think it’s going to be okay in the end.”

  “How are we going to start over?” Her voice is clogged with tears and doesn’t rise above a whisper.

  I put my arms around her as my heart breaks at her words. Not because I think she’s saying there’s no chance of keeping the store going, but because she sounds so beaten down. The store’s been in our family for three generations. Changes of this magnitude are not something my mother is prepared to handle. Not that I’m all that enthusiastic about tackling such an enormous project, but at least with Zach’s help today, I’m buoyed by possibilities. I’m pretty sure my mother’s heard nothing but gloom and doom out of my dad and sister.

  “I’m not giving up.” Even if I can’t afford to lease a storefront, I know I can take some of our inventory and get a stall in some of the antique malls in the area. That way, we still have an opportunity to make sales while I figure out what to do.

  “Your father has already said he’s not going to help in any way.”

  “I didn’t really expect him to. He has Julie’s wedding to pay for, after all.”

  Maybe I’m not competitive enough. Or ambitious enough. But sometimes I think Julie is both of those to a ridiculous degree. It’s why she’s been so nuts about the wedding. She wants everything to be spectacular. And that costs money.

  My mom looks devastated by my tone. “That’s not it.”

  “You and I both know this wedding is really expensive. I get it. This is the sort of thing that’s really important to Julie. If it were me, I’d elope and save everybody the stress and expense.”

  “I hope you realize we would spend just as much money on your wedding.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to. For me, the important part is the marriage. I don’t need an over-the-top ceremony and big reception. Just me and the guy I’m madly in love with promising to love, honor, and cherish ‘til death do us part.”

  Mom gives me a big hug. “Even when you were a kid, you were always low maintenance. Your sister kept us on our toes, and all too often we forgot about your needs.”

  “It’s okay.” And it kind of is. Because suddenly I feel as if I have someone in my corner, someone who is concerned about what’s best for me. Zach dropped everything and drove up to Cedar Park in the middle of the day because I needed his help. That means a lot. And it gives me the courage to wish for a future with him.

  19

  Zach

  The anticipation that has been building inside me during the half hour drive down from Cedar Park reaches a snapping point as I park my car. Minutes later I arrive at the front door of my building. Emma isn’t here yet, and standing in the icy breeze blowing off the river gives me a chance to cool down. I need to stay in control. To make tonight perfect for her.

  But as she approaches, her long strides eating at the distance between us, heat flares once again, consuming my willpower, making my muscles tremble and my breath hitch.

  “Ready?” she asks, entwining her fingers with mine. There’s purpose in her gaze.

  I don’t move to go inside. She wants this. I’m the one hesitating. The stakes are higher for me than they’ve ever been. She’s convinced what’s between us is casual and fun. Unimportant. Can I convince her it’s more? That it’s everything I want?

  “Before we go upstairs…”

  She puts her fingers to my lips to still the rest of what I was about to say. “You don’t need to explain anything. I understand what’s going on between us.”

  I relax, relieved that we’re finally on the same page. “Then let’s go.”

  As soon as the door closes behind us, I cup her face in my hands and take the kiss I’ve been dying for all evening. It’s been less than a week since she was last here, but I’m starving for her. Memories of our last time together in my bed torment me. This is a first for me. This taking things slow, making myself wait and get to know her.

  I still have a long way to go before I can say I know the essence of Emma, and I’m happy to take the time. I’ve found someone who doesn’t make me want to rush from one moment to the next. As goal driven as I tend to be, when I’m around Emma, all I want to do is just exist in the here and now.

  My mouth finds her neck as she strips off her coat. She shudders as I suck on her earlobe and her body sags against mine.

  “I love that,” she murmurs. Her fingers dive beneath my t-shirt and sweater, tickling my sides and moving o
ver my ribs on their way to my back. Her fingernails dig in as I nip at her throat. “That, too.”

  “What other things do you like?”

  “All sorts of things.” She gazes at me shyly from beneath her lashes. “I can be as dirty as you need.”

  What she’s offered…it’s not her. She’s sweet and sexy. A girl who should be cherished and adored. And yet…I consider what I’d like to do. All the ways I could fuck her. The arsenal of sexual fantasies I could pull out that would make her lose her mind and come harder than she’s ever done.

  I step back and shed my coat, drinking in the sight of her as she tears her shirt over her head before shimmying out of her skirt and tights. Realizing I’m gaping and not stripping, I divest myself of my shirt and jeans in record time. Before she can unfasten her bra, I’ve lifted her fireman style over my shoulder and am carrying her to the bed.

  Placing her on her feet, I pull her half-naked body into my arms, savoring the warmth of her skin, and kiss her deep. Her fingers burrow into my hair as her lips part and she thrusts her tongue forward to meet mine. The kiss is hot enough to melt steel, but it’s having the opposite effect on my dick. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this hard. The pain is as perfect and exquisite as the woman in my arms.

  “I want to be yours,” Emma says when I break off the kiss to slide my mouth into the hollow of her throat. Her hands free me from my boxer briefs and stroke my cock with confidence. “Show me what you like.”

  Her fingers need no instruction. She’s already figured out what makes me crazy. Before I come in her palm, ending our fun before it gets started, I pull her hand away and twirl her so she’s facing away from me. With a light smack on her ass, a soft squeak of surprise erupts from her throat, and I smile.

  “Take everything off,” I say, stepping back from her. “And lie down on the bed.”

  My knees are unsteady as I cross to the nightstand and pull out a foil package. Off goes my underwear. On goes the condom. When I turn back to her, Emma is lying on her back in the middle of my bed, her legs spread. Has any woman ever looked so sexy?

  “Like this?” she asks, sliding her hands over her flat stomach and caressing down her thighs. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want to slide my cock into you. To feel you tight around me.” I climb onto the bed, kneeling between her thighs. Bending to kiss her stomach, I slide my finger between the folds that hide her delicious, wet pussy from me and smile at the long, husky moan that pours out of her. “But first I’m gonna taste you again.”

  And then my mouth is on her, my tongue circling her clit. She’s so fucking wet and hot. I slide two fingers in and she shudders, calling out my name. At this moment, I’m glad I jacked off this morning because the ache building in my balls is so intense that I would’ve already gone off if I hadn’t relieved some of the pressure earlier.

  This time, I don’t let her come beneath my mouth. I get her to the point where she’s writhing and half sobbing my name, and then I kiss my way back up her body and settle my mouth over her breasts, paying them the same attention I gave her pussy.

  She lifts her feet off the bed and pulls her knees toward her body, effectively opening herself wide for me. I feel the wetness of her juices dampening my thighs as her hips gyrate.

  Her hands reach for my face, drawing me close for a soul-penetrating kiss. In this moment she’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

  “Zach,” she murmurs, her hands sliding down my body, arrowing for my erection. “I need…”

  “My cock inside you?” I ask, positioning myself so that all it will take is the slightest move to fill her as deep as I can go.

  “Yes,” she gasps, tipping her pelvis, searching for the fulfillment she craves.

  “Say the words.”

  “I want your cock. I want all of it.”

  “As you wish.”

  My breath shudders as I push inside her. She’s so fucking tight and wet. The friction is incredible. Her groan plays like a symphony along my nerve endings as I slowly pull back out. Her nails dig into my skin.

  I thrust forward once again. “I’m going to make you come hard.”

  “That sounds…” Arching her back, she takes me deeper still. “Fantastic.”

  Conscious that she probably hasn’t had a lover since her boyfriend a year ago, I keep my rhythm smooth and controlled, finding a pace that we can both enjoy.

  “You feel incredible,” I murmur, rotating my hips as I thrust, feeling her tighten even more around me. “So perfect.”

  I meet her gaze and watch her expression, loving the way she’s transported by the pleasure I’m bringing her. She touches my lips with her fingertips and I lean down to kiss her. She’s stolen my heart with her openness.

  “Come for me,” I say, slipping my hand between us and touching her clit.

  Her hips rise to a faster rhythm as her mouth tightens with wild determination. I match her nearly frantic pace, giving her what she needs. Our breathing rages in time as we surge toward our finish. Yet, even as I close in I hold on, wanting to watch her climax. To do this for her as much as with her.

  “Holy shit,” she moans. Her expression tenses and then a rosy flush rises up her throat and spills onto her cheeks. For a second her entire body freezes. Her eyes widen and she’s shattering beneath me. “Zach!”

  Holding my own climax back is no longer possible. I bury my face in her neck and pound furiously into her. Once. Twice. And then I’m catapulted into pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known and realize it’s all because she’s…the one.

  20

  Emma

  I hadn’t planned to stay over at Zach’s, but when my eyes pop open, there’s a masculine shoulder mere inches from my nose. He’s lying on his stomach, face turned away from me. I’m on my side, clasped hands beneath my chin as if I’m afraid to touch him even in sleep.

  A quick glance at the clock tells me I have a couple hours before I need to be at the shop, and I’m not sure if lingering here is a great idea. Moving carefully, I climb out of bed, find my clothes, and sneak off to the bathroom where I avoid my reflection, afraid of what I’ll see.

  My heart feels peculiar, as if it’s swelled during the night, and now it presses against my ribs, hindering my breathing. Is this how it feels to be bursting with love? The sensation sets off an anxiety attack. I’ve gone from casual hook-up to romantically involved in the space of one night.

  Or have I?

  Isn’t it more likely that I’ve just been fooling myself these last couple weeks? I’ve had a thing for Zach since I was a teenager. It was easy to forget my unrequited crush when he wasn’t in my life on a daily basis, but the wedding has brought us back together in ways I couldn’t have expected. I’m finding out that he’s not just charming, smart, and sexy as hell, he’s also someone I can count on when I need help. Yesterday, he dropped everything and came up to the store to help me formulate a plan of action. How is that not the most wonderful thing ever?

  Yet, it’s possible that I’m reading more into his behavior than I should be. Yesterday my call for help appealed to the exact thing he enjoys doing and what he’s good at. He helped Paul and Gabby start new businesses. I’m not really all that special. Conscious that I’m overthinking things, I borrow some mouthwash, comb my hair, and slap on my game face.

  When I exit the bathroom, I smell coffee. Zach is in the kitchen, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. I duck from his gaze as I take the mug he offers me.

  “Thanks.” Drowning in awkwardness, I sip the hot liquid and scramble for something to say. I’ve never been one for morning sex, but I’m having a hard time keeping my mind off his strong, lean body and how bad I want him between my thighs right now.

  “Do you have time for breakfast?”

  He’s maintaining a friendly distance, which makes his mood a little hard to read, so I’m surprised by his offer. As much as I’d love to hang out and try for round three, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.

  “I wish I did
, but I should be getting home.” A quick glance at my phone before I exited the bathroom showed me that each of my housemates had sent me a text asking how my evening had gone. They knew I was with Zach, but I hadn’t been clear that I was spending the night. “Rain check?”

  Great, now I’ve just invited myself back.

  “Sure.”

  I can’t get a read on his reply. Does he want me to spend the night again? Are we done now that we’ve had sex? Screw the girl’s brains out and move on? I’m driving myself crazy playing guessing games. Time to finish my coffee and get the hell out.

  “Thanks for last night.” I set my mug on the granite countertop. “And for yesterday. I really appreciate you coming to dinner with my parents and backing me up.”

  He’s watching me like I’m a feral cat. “You’re welcome.”

  “So, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

  “I’ll be around.”

  Now the big question, do I kiss him goodbye or just go in for a friendly hug? I take a step in his direction. He sets down his mug and meets me halfway. Strong arms pull me against a rock hard torso. My brain spins as I return his hug. It’s nice to be held like this. Comfortable. Maybe a little sexy. It gives a lot and asks nothing in return.

  “You’re a good guy, Zach Thorne.”

  His chest rumbles with a chuckle. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  “Me either.”

  I pull back, thinking he’s gonna let me go, but his hand cups my cheek and his lips dip to mine. He doesn’t ask, but takes, and it’s sexy as hell the way his mouth knows exactly what to do. I yield to the kiss, and the temperature in the kitchen rises dramatically. We’re both breathing unsteadily by the time he lifts his head.