Chapter 38 Abigail
Chapter thirty-eight
Abigail
The water is warm when it hits my shoulders, steam steadily curling around us. Lincoln stands behind me, broad chest at my back, one hand braced against the tile while the other moves slowly, over my body.
It feels surreal.
All of it.
His touch is different now. Gentle where it was fierce before.
Careful in a way that somehow makes my chest ache worse than the intensity did.
He drags the soap-covered loofah over my arms, down my sides, rinsing me like this is something sacred.
Like he’s grounding himself as much as he’s taking care of me.
I tilt my head back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed.
I never expected that from him.
Lincoln is measured, controlled. Always holding himself just a step back from the edge. And yet, when he finally snapped… when he finally let himself have me… it was overwhelming in a way that was almost addicting. He was dominant. Unapologetic. Relentless in the pursuit of bringing me pleasure.
And god, did it fit him perfectly.
I can feel the weight of everything we’ve just done settling into the space as the sound of his breath matches mine. “I didn’t know,” I murmur, fingers curling around his wrists where it rests at my stomach. “I didn’t know that you had that in you.”
He huffs a laugh. “Not many do.”
He goes about rinsing the soap from my skin, fingertips lingering with every touch, and I swallow. Nerves are finally catching up with me now that the heat has settled. “Lincoln?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart.”
I turn in his arms, palms flattening against his chest. His eyes drop to my face immediately, searching. Always searching.
“What does this mean?” I ask quietly. “You and me. Lawson. Jasper… Beau?”
It’s the question that’s been hovering between all of us, unspoken and dangerous and impossible to ignore.
For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches for the soap again, slowly washing my back.
He presses a kiss to the crown of my head.
“I don’t know,” he finally admits. There’s no hesitation in it.
No false confidence. Just the silent understanding that we’re all in uncharted waters.
“I don’t have a rulebook for this. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work. ”
My chest tightens, but before fear can take hold, his arms come around me fully, pulling me in.
“But I know this. I’ve spent my whole damn life walking away from things that didn’t feel like they were supposed to be mine so I could give others things I knew were supposed to be theirs.
I walk away when things feel too big. Too risky.
Too… good. And whatever this is?” His hand flexes at my back. “It feels so fucking good.”
I look up at him, eyes burning, heart wide open.
He meets my gaze, steady and certain. “So, we figure it out. All of us. Together. No walls. No running.”
A shaky breath leaves me as I nod. “Okay.”
He smiles then—not the charming one, not the polite one—but something softer. Something that looks an awful lot like mine.
“Okay,” he echoes.
And the water keeps running, and the world around us stays quiet as he holds me like I’m his.