7. Josie
josie
. . .
With one hard thrust, all the air left my lungs as Lincoln drove his hips forward.
“Fuck,” he growled, going still when all I wanted was for him to move. His cock filled me. I needed the friction, needed him to soothe the ache he’d created the moment I stepped into this nowhere bar.
He wrapped his arms around my stomach, tugging me back until our bodies were flush. His hands ran slowly up to my chest, palming my aching breasts and pinching my nipples until I cried out. It was a different sort of pain, a hurt caused by all the right attention.
I’d never put much stock in nipple play. Most of the time, either myself or a partner overlooked the importance, but I was sure as hell learning how erotic it could be now.
Judging by his hearty chuckle, Lincoln knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how wet he’d made me, how I was on the verge of truly begging to be fucked right here and now, and he loved it .
“Like that, darlin’?” he rasped, rolling my nipples between his fingers. “Like when I play with these pretty fucking tits?”
Holy shit.
“Yes,” I breathed. I let my head fall against his shoulder, reveling in how his touch grew from reverential to downright desperate.
Lincoln groaned into my ear. His hips slowly began to move, hitting that special spot that had me seeing stars.
His lips skated along the length of my neck, nipping my pulse point as one of his hands snaked down my stomach. He found my clit with ease, the pressure of his touch sending tendrils of pleasure throughout my body as I teetered on the edge of an impending orgasm.
I never wanted this to end, yet I wanted to come undone.
He was so good—too good. How the fuck did he know what to do? What to say? Had I just been with inexperienced partners my whole life?
Yes .
I already knew the answer to that question.
“So fucking good,” he breathed. “I can feel your tight cunt squeezing my cock, Josie, and it feels so fucking good. You’re gonna make me come.”
My name on his lips was a goddamn dream and my undoing.
I detonated around him, surrendering entirely to my pleasure as he chased his own with wild abandon. His fingers landed on my hips in a grip so brutal I knew it would leave marks behind. He fucked me hard and fast, not slowing even for a second as we slammed into the pool table.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck ,” Lincoln chanted. Each word escalated in volume until he found his release with a guttural cry. His movements grew choppy as our moans of pleasure mingled, reverberating off the walls of this dingy bar that had become our sanctuary .
I collapsed against the green felt, sweat-slicked and sated. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt at peace after sex. Especially considering the man inside of me was a stranger.
It was funny how only hours ago, I was a woman who could count the number of times a partner had made her come on one hand, yet Lincoln had wrung two from me with ease.
I’d always struggled to orgasm, regardless of if I was trying to take care of myself solo or with someone else. Having been on antidepressants since I was a teenager, I didn’t understand the full effects then, but I sure as hell did now.
It didn’t matter how many times I told them about my struggles. The men I’d been with in the past had cared more about chasing their own high than tending to my needs. If I was with anyone else other than Lincoln, they would’ve likely taken me against a bathroom stall, thanked me for my time, and walked away satisfied while I drove to the cabin unfulfilled.
But Lincoln was different. He hadn’t been in a rush to have sex. Hell, he’d given me an out. When I’d finally given in, he not only made sure that I got mine, but had me coming apart at his touch twice before he even thought about his own.
He leaned forward, pressing short, sweet kisses along my bare shoulder before he slipped free. I felt his loss immediately and hated how much I wanted it back.
“Where’re you going?” I asked, turning around to face him.
“Taking care of the condom,” he called out over his shoulder. “I don’t need Frank walking into any messes in a few hours.”
I couldn’t help but ogle him as he disappeared from view. Lincoln was gorgeous. His body was crafted of well-defined muscle, likely honed from years of hard labor rather than sessions in a gym. And I’d never considered myself someone who had a thing for asses, but after one glance at his, I’d changed my mind. Honestly, it took every bit of effort I had not to chase after him and demand a second round, but that seemed a little crazy .
Ugh. Pull yourself together, Josie. You’re just dick drunk.
As much as I didn’t want to listen to the logical bitch inside my head, I knew she was right. I’d come to Tennessee to escape my broken heart and cheating ex. I sure as hell didn’t intend—nor did I need—to cuff myself to the first man I met.
Even if he was the best sex I’d ever had.
I pushed off the table, reaching for my shirt and bra, which I’d thrown to the ground in my haste to get undressed. I needed to put my damn clothes on. I needed to get as far away from Lincoln as possible before I did something stupid like ask to see him again.
But first, I needed underwear.
Everything was scattered around the bar, thrown haphazardly with little care about where it had landed. Thankfully, my pink panties stood out beneath the dim lights, acting as a beacon for the rest of my clothes.
I’d just slipped them on when Lincoln walked by, bending down to sort through his own clothes. I helped, knowing I’d absolutely played a part in tearing them off—which would remain a memory I’d replay over and over again.
We worked silently, neither daring to break the strange tension in the air. It was a stark difference from the teasing banter we’d so quickly become accustomed to. Even though I’d been ready to run, to hurry out of here before I could want anything more from Lincoln, I hated the way it felt.
We knew what came next, but that didn’t make walking away any easier.
Only when our hands accidentally brushed one another’s did we make eye contact, both half-dressed and disheveled. His dark eyes, which had been filled with heat and longing, had since grown guarded.
Had they been like that before and I’d somehow not noticed? I couldn’t remember them being that way when I walked through the door this evening, but maybe that was only because he was at work.
Lincoln broke contact first, standing tall with the remainder of his clothes in his hands. He got dressed in one corner while I occupied the other. The only sound was the soft croon of old country music from the antique jukebox and the shuffle of feet as we both slipped on our shoes.
Say something, you idiot! Say literally anything ? —
“Need a hand cleaning up around here?” I asked, reaching into my purse for a large claw clip to put my hair up.
Lincoln turned around, staring at me from under furrowed brows. I understood his probable confusion because truth be told, I could match it. I’d just agreed with the voice in my head that it was time to go—the voice that tried to preserve what little dignity I had left—and yet now I was volunteering to stay.
He reached up, running a hand along the back of his neck. “There isn’t much to do but take out the trash and clean the floors. I took care of the rest earlier.”
“Ah,” I said, rocking back on my heels. God. Why was I so awkward? “Well, I could still help. I’ve cleaned so many floors in my life. You might even call me a professional.”
Lincoln chuckled. “Josie, it’s fine. I’m not under any impression this was anything more than two strangers sharing—” he blew out a breath and shook his head, “—a fucking phenomenal night together.”
My heart sank. “I mean, that makes sense, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you out. I’ve kept you up late, after all. If not for me, you’d be home in bed already.”
“You didn’t even want to give me your name.”
There was something about the way he said it that made my stomach clench. While I might not have regretted the game we played, or how he forced the letters from my lips in such a deliriously wicked way, I regretted not giving him my name sooner. I could blame it on the alcohol, but it really stemmed from not wanting another broken heart so soon.
Not that I should be concerned with that since I was only here for a few days—a week, max.
I took a tentative step forward, waiting to see if he stopped me before I approached him. He leaned against the edge of the pool table with his arms crossed, watching every move I made with a cautious gaze.
Though the scent of sex hung in the air, remnants of his cologne clung to my clothing. The heady mixture of the two shouldn’t have been as alluring as it was, but I didn’t want to ever wash this shirt, so that I never forgot what he smelled like.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my name from the get-go, but to be honest…” I blew out a breath. I’d purposely steered clear of anything involving Wyatt or why I’d driven to Tennessee on a whim when Lincoln had asked. But maybe it was time for a dash of vulnerability. “I came up to the mountains because I found my boyfriend balls deep in someone else less than forty-eight hours ago. My family has a cabin up here, though we don’t use it often.”
Lincoln cursed, drawing his brows tight. “What kind of idiot would cheat on you?”
The question stung more than I could say. I had answers at the ready from my years of self-loathing. Those didn’t even include the vicious retorts straight from the mouths of nearly all my exes. It’d never mattered if their criticisms weren’t valid or warranted; they’d stuck all the same.
I laughed, though it was hollow. “Oof, we don’t have enough time for me to list my many, many flaws or backtrack through my tragic dating history. I have a bad habit of falling fast for all the wrong people.”
Lincoln uncrossed his arms, letting one knuckle rap against the oak table. “I don’t believe that. ”
“Do you want references?” I asked, raising a brow. “I mean, I can give you a list of numbers to call?—”
“No,” he said, cutting me off. “I don’t give a shit what some jaded asshole has to say. Of course, he’ll find fault in you because he’s lost the best thing he’s ever had.”
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
The overwhelming urge to run was creeping in. He didn’t know me any more than I knew him. From our limited interaction, I assumed he was a good person, but not everyone showed their true colors from the start.
I knew I’d fallen prey to that trap more than once or twice.
“I know enough.”
“And what if I told you I snore? Would that be a deal breaker?”
His lips twitched. “I can always buy a pair of ear plugs. They have them at the dollar store down the road. I’ll even buy you a pair, too.”
“Me a pair? Why? I won’t need them for myself.”
“Well, I don’t know if I snore, but it couldn’t hurt.” He shrugged. “I wanna make sure you’re comfortable when you’re sleeping in my bed.”
“You seem mighty confident,” I muttered. He was so damn sure of himself. It was unreasonably attractive. I’d never been pursued like this. The guys I’d dated in the past would’ve run for the hills at the mere mention of a flaw.
“I am,“ he said, pushing off the table. He closed the distance between us, taking my chin between thumb and forefinger. Brown eyes bore into me, scanning my face in a way that felt way too personal, considering we were two passersby. “I’m mighty sure there isn’t a damn thing you could say that’d put me off you.”
And then he kissed me.
It was soft. Gentle. Different from the desperation of earlier. Lincoln didn’t rush, letting us settle into the comfort of the intimate moment as though we’d done this a million times. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead on mine. Neither of us spoke, and I didn’t want to.
“So, about that offer to help…” Lincoln said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That still on the table?”
“I think I can stick around a little longer,” I said, stepping aside. “Just point me in the right direction.”
This time, when we separated, it wasn’t taut with awkward tension. We settled into an easy silence, listening to the croon of the jukebox as we worked. It didn’t take us long to gather the trash and sweep the floors. Though it would’ve been considerably shorter had he not grabbed the broom from me and sang along to Brooks and Dunn. It was off-key and, frankly, terrible, but I was wiping tears from my eyes as he sang the last lyrics to Neon Moon.
The scent of lemon cleaning solution filled the space, following us into the crisp morning air. I waited patiently as Lincoln locked up, setting a large black garbage bag on the ground between us.
I didn’t know what would happen next. Would we exchange numbers like he’d suggested before he knew my name? Or would he want to keep whatever we shared limited to this moment right here?
Lincoln turned to face me, the grey light of dawn casting shadows from under his baseball cap. “So…” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Your place or mine?”