Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LINC
The ride home was silent, but that didn’t mean the tension between us had eased.
Kristin sat beside me, her elbow brushing mine on the console, fingers twisting the edge of her jacket like she couldn’t decide whether to hide or reach for me.
The air in the truck smelled faintly of her, sweat, perfume, and the tang of arena dust still clinging to her hair. Every inch of her burned into my skin.
By the time we pulled into the driveway, the quiet had turned heavy, thick enough that it filled every breath.
The porch light cast a soft glow across the gravel, illuminating the frost that was starting to settle over the ground.
I killed the engine and turned to her. Her profile was sharp in the half light, eyes down, lashes trembling.
“Get inside,” I demanded, my voice low and rough.
She swallowed hard, lips parting. “Okay.”
The second the door shut behind us, all bets were off.
I reached for her, and she met me halfway, our mouths colliding in a frenzy of pent-up desire and memories we couldn’t outrun.
Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer as a tremor ran through her, igniting a fire in me that I couldn’t deny any longer.
I deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with a hunger that left us both breathless.
I could taste the whiskey on her tongue, the salt of her skin, and the night’s adventures clinging to her.
When she sighed against my mouth, I forgot every reason I had for staying away.
My hands slid up her back, under her jacket, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt.
She pressed against me, and the rest of the world disappeared.
We stumbled to the couch, our bodies entwined, and when she fell back, I followed, bracing myself above her. Her hair spread out over the cushions, her eyes wide and dark with lust, her mouth parted in a silent plea. The sight of her like that nearly undid me.
“Linc,” she whispered, her voice a mix of need and desperation.
I pushed a strand of hair from her face, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “You sure about this?”
Her nod was small but resolute. “Yes. Please, Linc.”
Those words shattered the last of my restraint. I kissed her again, this time more slowly, letting the intensity build. Her hands roamed over my shoulders, my chest, as if rediscovering every part of me. I let myself get lost in her, in the heat and the need that had been building for so long.
My hands slid under her shirt, finding the soft skin of her breasts.
She arched into my touch, moaning my name as I teased her nipples, feeling them harden under my fingers.
I trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, until I reached the valley between her breasts.
I pushed her shirt up, my mouth replacing my hands, sucking and licking until she was writhing beneath me.
I moved lower, my hands working at the button of her jeans. She lifted her hips, helping me slide them off, leaving her in nothing but a thin pair of lace panties. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled them down, revealing her completely to me.
I settled between her thighs, my breath hot against her skin.
I could see the glistening evidence of her arousal, could smell the sweet scent of her desire.
I dipped my head, my tongue finding her clit, circling and teasing until she was gasping and clutching at my hair.
I slid two fingers inside her, feeling her tighten around me as I brought her closer and closer to the edge.
When she came, it was with a cry that sent a surge of lust through me.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I stood up, shedding my own clothes in record time before settling back between her thighs, quickly rolling the condom on before I had a mess in my hand.
I rubbed the head of my cock against her, feeling her slick and ready, before slowly pushing inside.
We both groaned at the sensation, her body stretching to accommodate me. I started to move, slow at first, savoring every inch of her. But soon, our bodies took over, moving faster, harder, chasing the release we both desperately needed.
“God, Kristin,” I groaned, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her into me with every thrust. Her nails raked down my back, the slight pain mixing with the pleasure, driving me wild.
Her body clenched around me, her orgasm ripping through her as she cried out my name. I followed her over the edge, my own release pulsing through me, leaving us both breathless and trembling.
We collapsed on the couch, our bodies slick with sweat and tangled together. I rested my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling as we came down from the high.
“You’re more incredible than I remember,” I murmured, my thumb brushing her cheek.
She laughed softly, still breathless. “You’ve always been a sweet talker.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, kissing the top of her head. “But tonight, it’s only the truth.”
She sighed contentedly, curling closer to me. “Good. Because I don’t think I can get enough of you.”
We lay there for a long time, just breathing, hands brushing, little touches that weren’t about need anymore but about comfort, about closeness. I let her fingers tangle in my hair, let her lean against me, let myself be exactly where I wanted to be here, with her, after everything we’d held back.
And I knew, with a certainty that dug deep into my bones, that this wasn’t just about tonight. This was the start of something neither of us could or would walk away from.
When her breath hitched, I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were glassy, full of everything I hadn’t dared to hope for. I pressed my forehead to hers and breathed her in. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
“I think I do,” she whispered.
The rest was instinct, unspoken, inevitable. The room blurred, the only thing real was the press of her body against mine and the sound of her voice when she said my name like it still belonged to her. The fire crackled somewhere behind us, throwing light across her skin.
Later, when the world had gone quiet again, she lay half curled against me, her head on my chest, our legs tangled in the blanket we’d pulled down from the couch. My hand moved through her hair, slow and steady, because if I stopped, I’d have to think, and thinking would ruin it.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
She nodded, her voice a whisper against my skin. “More than okay.”
I kissed the top of her head and let my eyes close. For the first time in years, peace felt like something I could touch.
But peace never lasted.
She was still asleep when dawn crept through the windows. The house was cold again, and reality came with it. I slipped out from under her carefully, tucking the blanket around her shoulders. She stirred but didn’t wake. Her hair spilled across the pillow, her face soft, open.
It hit me then what I’d done. What I’d pulled her back into.
She had already been through enough, and now she was tangled up with me again, carrying the danger I still hadn’t told her about. The men from the rodeo, the phone calls that didn’t trace back anywhere, the shadow that had been following me since I took care of the man who’d hurt her before.
I’d told myself I could keep her safe, that marrying her on paper would protect her. But what I’d really done was paint a target on both of us.
I stood by the window, watching the sun come up over the ridge.
The frost on the grass caught the light like shards of glass.
Behind me, she murmured something in her sleep, reaching out for where I’d been.
The sight of her hand searching the empty space was almost enough to break my resolve. Almost.
I pulled on my jeans and shirt, the cold air biting against my skin.
Downstairs, the fire had burned low, leaving only glowing embers.
I added wood, watched the sparks catch, then poured coffee I didn’t taste.
Every part of me wanted to go back upstairs, crawl under that blanket again, and forget the world outside.
Instead, I forced myself to sit, to plan. I couldn’t tell her what was coming. Not yet. The threats weren’t just aimed at me anymore. Someone wanted to settle an old score, and if she knew the details, she’d try to interfere. That was who she was.
Keeping her safe meant keeping her in the dark.
The stairs creaked a few minutes later. She appeared in the doorway wearing my shirt, the hem brushing her thighs, her hair still tousled from sleep. She looked like something that didn’t belong in this rough old house. Like light.
“Morning,” she said softly.
“Morning,” I managed.
She smiled, shy in a way that wasn’t like her. “You left.”
“Needed coffee.” I gestured to the mug waiting for her. She crossed the room and took it, her fingers brushing mine. That slight touch sent a jolt through me all over again.
“Last night,” she began, but I cut her off gently.
“Don’t.”
Her brow furrowed. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t make it complicated. We were both running on adrenaline. You had a hell of a ride, and I,” I trailed off, swallowing the words I didn’t want her to hear.
“You what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want you thinking this means anything’s changed. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
The hurt in her eyes was fast, sharp. “You really believe that?”
I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell her no. Instead, I forced myself to nod. “Yeah.”
She set the mug down too hard, the coffee sloshing. “Then that’s on you, Linc. Because I know what last night meant.” She turned away, heading for the stairs, every line of her body rigid.
When the door to the bedroom closed upstairs, I let out a ragged breath, my hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against the table until they steadied.
I’d lied to her, but it was the only way to keep her safe.
Outside, the endless winter blue that makes everything feel exposed. Somewhere down the road, a truck engine started, and a dog barked. Life kept moving like nothing had happened.
But everything had.
I looked toward the stairs one last time, the echo of her footsteps still fading, and promised myself I’d fix this before it touched her again.
Even if it meant breaking her heart all over.