Chapter 6
For eight solid weeks, Lincoln showed up.
On the days he had to work, he went to Shayne’s the second he was showered.
If he had a day off, Lincoln was on Shayne’s doorstep the moment he was up and moving for the day.
He couldn’t stay away. It was the way Shayne’s face lit every time he saw Lincoln.
No one else looked him that way. Usually, people looked through him—not Shayne.
It began in his eyes and moved to his lips.
How was he supposed to resist? What would he do when Shayne was gone?
That was the problem. Eventually, Shayne would be gone.
It was an accident. There was every probability Lincoln had heard Shayne’s name in the news hundreds of times—without realizing it—before they’d met.
Now his name rang loudly in Lincoln’s ears every time it was mentioned.
Still, he hadn’t been intentionally searching for it when the short sports update found its way into Lincoln’s usual morning radio show.
At the first mention of the sexy hockey player who was buried under his skin, Lincoln had been incapable of focusing on anything else as they’d dropped the bomb.
Shayne Smith was rumored to be the Seattle Flight Wings’ new goalie.
He’d known it was only a matter of time.
They weren’t meant to last. He’d have to let go.
It had always been inevitable. All of those thoughts and more ran through Lincoln’s mind, lending not an ounce of comfort.
Shayne hadn’t said a word. Granted, neither had Lincoln asked, but still, not a single word.
For two whole month’s, Lincoln had shown up, and they’d never spoken of it, but there it was, hanging between them.
A part of him hadn’t want to know. Shayne’s inescapable departure was—no doubt—the reason their scorching kisses had always ended there ever since the one night they’d come so close to real intimacy.
Neither of them wanted to know what they’d be losing when it was over.
Those depressing thoughts carried Lincoln through the final hour of his workday.
By the time he was driving home, Lincoln had made his decision.
He wouldn’t see Shayne again. He couldn’t be the reason Shayne never stepped back on the ice, even if it there was choice to be made by Shayne, and Lincoln didn’t trust himself not to beg at this point.
As he stepped out of the shower, the massive weight of knowing he’d never set eyes on Shayne again sat heavily on his muscles, making his every movement feel the same as swimming through quicksand.
Only when the beads of water clinging to his skin dried away, leaving him chilled, did Lincoln realize he’d been staring sightlessly into space with a towel wrapped around his waist for close to twenty minutes.
He shook his head and moved to the kitchen.
If he was staying in tonight, there was no sense in getting dressed.
There was no one to please or impress. He stood glaring at the inside of his bare refrigerator.
Of course it was empty. Everything was empty.
That was his life—a long series of barren days and long nights.
For a moment, he’d hoped. Hope was a real motherfucker.
Maybe if he learned to stamp it down he’d find peace.
Instead, he crammed his days with more work than one man could handle, hoping to sleep at night so he could start over the next day.
That is until Shayne. When they’d met, he began to dream and delegate his workload… then dream some more.
Since he’d come full circle with his thoughts and still his fridge had grown no magic food, Lincoln slammed the door closed.
He may as well get dressed. It seemed a trip to the grocery store was in his near future.
Lincoln made it halfway to his bedroom before a loud knock rent the air.
No one ever came to see him. He had the front door open before he remembered his state of undress.
When he spotted Shayne on the other side, Lincoln was hard-pressed to choose what thrilled him more—the sight of Shayne, looking sexy as sin, or he hadn’t accidentally flashed a group of girl scouts.
Shayne’s expensive business suit, delicious cologne, and gorgeous smile were enough to tempt an angel from the heavens.
He held up two plastic bags. “It was my turn to come to you. You do too much, and besides, we need to celebrate.” The scent of sweet and sour chicken wafted over Lincoln.
Shayne’s gaze traveled down his body. “I don’t know about you, but I’m suddenly starving.
” Lincoln was too, but seeing Shayne so soon after he’d decided he wouldn’t, rendered him mute.
It also made him realize he was weak. As long as one of them kept showing up, he’d keep doing this, riding this relationship out to its evitable fiery demise.
He took a step back, allowing Shayne to pass.
The man’s cologne enveloped him as he moved inside the room.
Lincoln tightened his grip on his towel as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.
He followed on Shayne’s heels to the kitchen.
No more than a tug in the right place stood between Lincoln and falling on Shayne like a man too long denied.
“This food was the celebration,” Shayne explained, setting the bags on the dining room table before moving back to stand toe to toe with Lincoln.
“That is, before I saw you like this.” He snagged Lincoln’s waist and tugged him forward.
It was Shayne’s expression. Lincoln was captivated.
Lust-filled determination flashed in the man’s gaze.
Lincoln didn’t get to enjoy it for long before Shayne’s mouth covered his.
Lincoln’s stomach growled. It had nothing to do with the food sitting only feet away.
This man made him long and crave. Even if he only had tonight, or he never saw Shayne again, Lincoln couldn’t turn his back.
He needed Shayne’s touch. The towel was gone.
He didn’t think he’d been the one to remove it.
Shayne’s hands cupped his ass, kneading.
Lincoln couldn’t draw enough oxygen into his lungs.
His chest burned with need. When Lincoln’s fingers connected with Shayne’s bare chest, he realized he’d been unbuttoning the man’s shirt with no real memory of doing so.
His body was on autopilot, doing what needed to be done to get closer to Shayne.
He shoved Shayne’s shirt and jacket down his arms, trapping Shayne inside the material.
Lincoln moved from the man’s mouth to his chest, nipping at his collarbone. Lincoln’s cock leaked.
“Why are we celebrating?” How in the hell Lincoln had shaped those words, he would never know. It just seemed he should ask.
“Talk later,” Shayne said, sounding breathless.
As Shayne palmed Lincoln’s dick, Lincoln was more than happy to give Shayne whatever he desired.
“Want you now,” Shayne said against Lincoln’s shoulder.
A strange sort of calm overcame Lincoln.
Somehow, hearing Shayne say the words made it real.
This gorgeous man, who was way out of his league, wanted him.
It was beautiful and empowering. Calling on some Herculean strength, Lincoln pulled away.
A flush rode high on Shayne’s cheeks. His lips were swollen from Lincoln’s kisses.
There wasn’t a sexier sight in the world. Lincoln was sure of it.
Taking Shayne’s hand, he led the man toward the bedroom. Shayne followed in silence. Only their harsh breaths filled the otherwise silent apartment. When they reached Lincoln’s bedroom, he dropped Shayne’s hand and headed for the nightstand.
“Strip,” Lincoln ordered. He didn’t bother checking to ensure Shayne followed his instructions.
The sound of his belt sliding loose was all the reassurance Lincoln needed.
Finding what he was searching for, Lincoln ripped open a condom.
He rolled it on as he watched Shayne’s pants slide to the floor.
Shayne stepped out of them. Lincoln’s mouth watered as he watched the boxer briefs go next.
Shayne’s erection jutted out, awaiting Lincoln’s ministrations.
With hungry eyes, Shayne watched as Lincoln coated his member with lube.
“Come here,” Lincoln demanded.
Shayne’s mouth lifted in one corner. “I like this bossy side of you. It’s got me hoping you intend to spank me.” In spite of the humor in Shayne’s tone, Lincoln wasn’t entirely sure he was joking.
“We’ll see,” Lincoln assured him as he snagged the other man’s waist. “Right now, I want you straddling my hips.” He sat on the edge of the bed, bringing Shayne with him as he went.
The mattress dipped on either side of Lincoln as Shayne’s knees came down beside him, caging him in.
Lincoln’s eyes burned with the effort it took not to blink.
He didn’t want to miss a second. Every place their skin met danced with electricity.
Shayne shoved, and the mattress hit Lincoln’s back.
The vision of Shayne above him, seconds away from squeezing his cock with his tight ass did something to Lincoln’s throat.
It swelled. He was in control, but he wasn’t.
This man, he was the one. He was the person Lincoln had always dreamed of having.
If their relationship was temporary, it was okay.
Yet, at the same time, it wasn’t. Most people never have their dreams come true.
Now, Lincoln could never again count himself among that number. His nose stung at the realization.
“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” Shayne said, swiping Lincoln’s crown across his hole. Lincoln’s lips parted on a gasp. The pressure beating at his cock was almost crippling. He squeezed Shayne’s thighs.