My heart turns over as he rakes me with a gaze that has only one meaning. I don’t wait, I undress, picking up my clothes, to give him a show, and set them on the nightstand, effectively covering the photo frame. He seems grateful for the intentional move. His manner changes as he slides his pants down his legs, steps out of them, and removes his shirt with one hand. Riveting, magnetic, spellbound, are words that come to mind as I return his appraisal. We’re standing on opposite sides of the room—neutral territory, in our own space, respecting the damn electric pull that hums in the space between us.
“The most frustrating thing about this is I don’t know what it is about you,” Lincoln rasps, gaze sliding from my face to between my legs.
There’s a dizziness throttling me, the lure so strong. “Are you saying my good looks don’t explain it well enough?”
“Oh, it explains the constant hard-on I have when you’re in my proximity, it doesn’t explain everything else, though. It’s more than that, Maeve, and I know you don’t want to enter that territory, but I’m already stuck in the brambles and thorns.”
At the mention of his dick, I drop my gaze. It’s just as steely and gorgeous as the rest of his naked body. Like a marble statue from an art history book, except you know, hung, circumcised, and hair more chiseled. “Mostly you’ve been stuck in the forest by my house though.”
He shakes his head hard once. “Joke all you want as long as you know I’m right.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” I fire back, taking a tentative step toward him. “If anything, it proves exactly why we keep the emotion switch off. Just sex, Wilds. Why would you want anything but that? Your life is perfect without adding anything else.”
“How can you assume that?” Lincoln radiates vitality, and it would be a disservice if he didn’t pass it to someone. Might as well be me. “How can you assume my life isn’t missing anything?”
“Let’s not talk about your son right now. I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to only think about the answer.”
“Kind of hard when you’re standing in my bedroom naked, but okay.”
“Turner’s mom,” I say, watching his face shutter. “She was the only woman you’ve been in love with? The person who you shared everything with? Knew you the best?”
He turns his gaze down to his feet, and it almost breaks me to see the magnificent statue crumble. “Yeah, sure.”
“You don’t want to feel like that ever again, do you?”
His eyes lock on mine and his nostrils flare. “Point taken. This is the part where we fuck then? Emotion switch off?”
I feel guilty for bringing her up, but I knew it would be the only thing that would drive my point home. I played the domino that would fall sideways instead of lending forward momentum. If I let Lincoln know that all I feel is emotions, strong ones, for him, I’d be a hypocrite. No more mistakes. I’m strong enough to guarantee it for both of us. His eyes convey the depth of his fury, but that’s an emotion I know he can live with. Not one he can live without. I’m the one who closes the space between us, laying my hands on his chest and running my fingers over his pecs, and down the creases of his abs flexing with each breath he takes. Lincoln keeps his hands by his sides, looking down at me, cautiously. When I grab his cock in my hand, he startles, but settles against the salve of human touch.
“Now this is the part where we fuck,” I echo back to him as I sink to my knees and take him into my mouth.
Though it’s been a while since I’ve had a sexual encounter, Lincoln is easy to read, or maybe it’s that I know what he wants. His thigh muscles bulge and tighten when I wrap my lips around the base of his cock and gag. Sliding back, I lick the ridge around the tip to catch my breath. His balls tighten in my other hand, and he lets out a ragged breath that sounds like a curse and a prayer. Working back and forth, I take him into my throat while moving my hand up and down.
“Okay, okay. Enough of that,” he says, voice terse, breaking off the sentence with another low pleased rumble in his throat. I don’t stop, I continue, because he’s caressing the back of my head, and I can tell he doesn’t want me to stop. He just doesn’t want to come before he thinks he’s supposed to. His hand tightens to stop me from sliding back to the tip. “Well played, Maeve, but now it’s my turn. Follow me.”
He scoots his hips back to pop his shaft out of my mouth. I look up at him through my lashes. He jerks his chin up. “Get up here and kiss me.”
I obey with a smirk, wrapping my arms around his neck, his body hot against mine. He kisses me with a fierce hunger, his lips hard, covering my own. It’s urgent and burns with the undercurrent of something that reaches inside my chest. He kisses me with all the emotions he’s not supposed to have. It’s more than passion. Without breaking our lips, he walks us back to a lowboy dresser against the opposite wall from his bed. When he leaves my mouth, I feel drugged. He reaches between my legs to sink a finger into my wetness without taking his gaze from mine.
Lincoln watches intensely
