Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Lincoln entwined his fingers through Stormi’s as he led her down the streets of Fallport in the direction of her rented home just on the outskirts of town. Her eagerness would be considered cute had it not been calculated. It had taken him hours to follow the digital trail of the library hack. He’d been impressed at the lengths she’d gone through to keep the hack from being traced. And had he not been one of the elites in his field, he would have missed several diversion tactics she used.
However, Lincoln knew without a shadow of a doubt she’d spied on him that first day in the library.
Add in the fact she was in WITSEC, something he had to protect at all costs.
He paused at the end of her driveway, resting his hands on her hips. “I’m sorry I’m being cagey about my job. Between the client wanting secrecy and my ex-fiancée making my life a living hell, I’ve ruined our first date. How can I make it up to you?”
She palmed his face. “You didn’t ruin anything. Surprisingly, I had a really good time tonight.”
“I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.” He kissed the inside of her palm. His heart beat a little faster while his stomach churned like sour milk. He wondered if he’d ever meet a woman who wouldn’t betray his trust.
He sure as shit couldn’t trust Samantha. Not when they were dating, and certainly not now. Although, he wasn’t sure what, if anything, Samantha knew about Zero Gravity and the woman currently in his arms. Samantha was a lot of things, and he suspected this had more to do with saving face, considering she’d written most of the code that failed during the first breach to begin with when she’d worked for a different company.
That was motivation enough for Samantha.
But Stormi was an entirely different problem.
“You should be flattered and offended.” She laughed. “I honestly thought that while I might find you charming, you’d also come across as pigheaded and arrogant. You did neither. I enjoyed myself tonight. I can’t say I’ve had a good time with a man since my divorce.”
“I swore off relationships after Samantha.” He took her chin with his thumb and forefinger. This game. This dance. The whole entire fucking thing was too easy. He resented the betrayal of his own emotions. The ones that made it so effortless to lean in and brush his mouth over her plump lips in a sweet and tender kiss.
God, she tasted like cotton candy. His tongue wrapped around hers in a deadly tango. To his soul and body, this was as real as it could possibly be.
But to the rest of him, it was about as fake as a set of eyelashes on a performer.
“I take it you’re willing to go out with me again?” he asked.
“Against my better judgment, yes.”
He pressed his hand against the small of her back and led her up the walkway. Someone should shoot him for the thoughts circling his brain like a vulture. “How about tomorrow night?”
Turning, she tapped her fingers against the keypad, unlocking the front door. “I’ve got a nice bottle of tequila. Would you like a nightcap?”
“Coming in might be against my better judgment,” he whispered. He’d made numerous mistakes over his lifetime. Most of the big ones had been before he turned eighteen.
Or had to do with women.
Spending time with Stormi was one thing. He genuinely enjoyed her personality. She was smart. Witty. Fun. There wasn’t anything he could find that he didn’t like.
Except she was lying to him.
Only that wasn’t entirely her fault. The government had a hand in her lies. She honestly didn’t have a choice. She needed to do it in order to survive. It had become her new normal. A way of life.
At least her new identity had, something he totally understood.
However, her sneaking around Zero Gravity was a different kind of lie. One that—depending on her goals and motivations—made her lies and betrayals quite different.
It also proposed an ethical dilemma for Lincoln.
It was one thing to use her by chatting her up. To learn information about what she did, or didn’t know, simply by asking her questions.
It was quite another to take her to bed.
And he didn’t have a logical reason for doing so, except he wanted to.
“It’s just one drink.” She tugged at his shirt, pulling him across the threshold. “I don’t bite.”
“Not the point.”
“And what is the point, then?” she quizzed, her eyes narrowing slightly. The orange glow of the porch light cast an ethereal shimmer across her face. She was a dangerous woman. One he shouldn’t even consider, and not just because of what he’d uncovered about her past.
Or even that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d hacked into Zero Gravity.
He could almost live with those things, considering who she was.
But his heart was half-dead. It wouldn’t take much to destroy it now and she was exactly the type of woman who could rip it to shreds.
“The point is…” He trailed off. How could he articulate his tumultuous emotions without revealing just how deeply entangled he was in this game of duplicitous love? “I need to be careful.”
She frowned slightly. "Careful? Why? Of what? Me?” Her voice held genuine surprise, making him wonder if she could know why he took such a deep interest in her at all. She was a smart woman. Smarter than she let on. It wouldn’t be too hard for her to see right through him.
However, his attraction for her made lying easy because he wasn’t acting. He liked her in ways he hadn’t enjoyed a woman in a long while. It bothered him that he wanted her on the most primal level. He tried telling himself that he needed to keep her close. But did he? Really? No. He wanted her. Pure and simple.
“Because….” He searched for words that wouldn’t betray too much but also wouldn’t sound too hollow. “Because I don’t want to hurt you. Perhaps I’ve gone too far. I like you. I’m attracted to you. But I’m a hot mess and can’t jump into a relationship. I’m afraid if we continue, all I’ll do is hurt your feelings and that’s the last thing I want to do.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips, like wind chimes tinkering in a gentle breeze. "Hurt me? Relationship?" Stormi stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his neck. The proximity set his senses on fire, hydrochloric acid to his paper heart. "I invited you in for a drink. Maybe that leads to something in the bedroom. But that doesn’t equate to me getting hurt or us having emotional ties. I don’t get attached that easily, and I’m not looking. One bad marriage was enough, thank you very much.”
She was a hell of a lot more than he bargained for. He should say good night and walk out that door. Only his lips were too close to hers and the scent of her mingling with the cool night air until it was an intoxicating blend sent him over the edge. He inhaled greedily. He looked down into her eyes, vibrant depths of hazel green and gold that had a hint of mischief. She was waiting for him to make the leap.
"I wouldn't want to presume anything," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "We've both suffered through bad relationships and equally bad breakups.”
Her grip around his neck tightened slightly and she moved in fractionally closer, her lips parting in a small smile. "Then don't presume."
He felt her warm breath against his cheek, sending shivers down his spine, and then she pressed her mouth gently against his ear.
"Just enjoy tonight," she whispered. "That's all you need to care about right now. We’ll figure out tomorrow when the sun comes up.”
Her words were dangerously seductive yet held an inevitable truth that felt almost comforting to his troubled thoughts. For once, he could switch off his cautious mind and surrender to the moment. He shouldn’t. But the temptation was too great. Too powerful to ignore.
"As long as it doesn't hurt you," he found himself saying and there was a hint of desperation in his voice that he didn't try to conceal. “And you won’t regret it in the morning.”
She pulled back slightly, looking deep into his eyes. "I won't," she replied simply. “Nor should you.”
And with that final assurance, he allowed her to coax him farther into the house, shutting the door behind them with a muted thud, leaving the dark night behind.
They stood in the dim light of the hallway, a brief moment of awkward stillness punctuated by the rhythmic tick-tock of a grandfather clock somewhere deeper in the house. A war raged inside Lincoln’s mind and soul. This was a woman, if he dared strip away the pretense of demanded lies, whom he could honestly care about.
But that was the rub. There was nothing honest in this dance. Except maybe the emotion that drew them together.
When he thought about it, that was the deadliest part of it all—not the lies, nor the danger that might lay ahead, but the emotion. The raw, unfiltered passion that threatened to consume him whole every time her gaze met his. The kind of tenderness that made a man reckless... vulnerable.
In a desperate attempt to control his racing heart, Lincoln focused on the sound of the ticking clock. Thump-thump . Thump-thump .
“Would you like that drink?" She broke the silence, her eyes never leaving his. Her question was simple, yet held a complexity that mirrored their current situation.
"No," he replied, his voice soft yet sharp, a contradiction that spoke volumes, hopefully only to him.
She nodded, rewarding him with an innocent and inviting smile. Moving away from him, she headed toward the living room, leaving him to follow her like a moth drawn to a flame. The house was as deceptive as its owner—on the surface, it was rustic, charming even—but underneath, there was an undercurrent of mystery and allure that reflected clearly in its mistress.
He watched as she moved gracefully across the room, every step building up the anticipation within him. His heart pounded against his chest as she turned to face him again, that same mysterious smile playing on her lips. "Shall we?"
Unable to resist any longer, Lincoln closed the distance between them in three strides. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "We shall," he whispered into her ear before capturing her lips with his own. He told himself that he could separate the woman from the job. That the sex was something they both wanted. The attraction was mutual; therefore, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
His body believed the lie.
His mind did not.
The kiss was explosive—a fusion of pent-up longing and raw emotion that set his world ablaze. Her fingers threaded through his hair as their bodies moved in perfect harmony to an unheard rhythm. The air grew thick with desire as they lost themselves in each other, the outside world of death and betrayal forgotten.
Her touch ignited a wildfire within him that he hadn't felt in years—a feeling he never thought he could experience again after six months of refuge in solitude. All caution was thrown away as Lincoln succumbed to the spell she had cast over him and the promise of a night filled with passion and desire—overriding his internal alarms warning him of the possible consequences.
And there would be a price to pay.
They moved deeper into the house and away from the world's prying eyes, completely surrendering to the intoxicating pull between them. Tonight, there were no masks, no lies—only two souls lost in a dance of seduction and undeniable lust.
“This house seems to go on forever,” he murmured as he pulled her shirt over her head. He stared at her alluring body, glistening in the moonlight seeping in through the windowpane.
“Bedroom’s right here.” Stormi pushed open the door. Inside was nothing more than a bed and a chest of drawers. There were no pictures on the walls or even on the dresser. There was nothing to say a full-blooded woman lived in this house. Just furniture and clothing.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Lincoln knew this life all too well. He understood it because he lived it. She was a shell of a woman she once knew. All that existed now were binary digits. The energy flowed from her fingertips to a keyboard and through the digital walls that she desired to puncture in her quest for answers. Now all he wanted to do was fill Stormi’s world with something more. Something magical.
Only, all he had to offer her was more lies. More deception. At the end of his tunnel was a truth that she might never forgive him for, if he ever got the chance to even come clean.
He laid her down on the bed and shed the rest of their clothing, ignoring the faint whisper of a conscience.
If he hadn’t still been working for Samantha, Stormi would have been just another woman that his good buddy’s wife introduced him to. It would have been that simple. The outcome might have been the same. They still might have gone their separate ways, but it wouldn’t have left such a bitter taste.
He kissed her neck and whispered how beautiful she was in her ear. He desperately wanted things to be different because the reality was—he cared. In the span of a few short days, he’d developed feelings.
That was always the way with him. Hard and fast. He couldn’t help his DNA if he tried.
Stormi gasped softly under his touch, her eyes shining with unbridled passion and unwavering trust.
Trust that he didn’t deserve.
Trust that shouldn’t be given and deep down, he suspected, she knew she shouldn’t be handing it over to him on a silver platter. Her offer to help wasn’t pure, and he knew that. Something he also had to grapple with.
Her gaze held not an iota of judgment—only a deep understanding that seemed to say she knew him far beyond his facade. It was a mirror to his soul, a beacon in the stormy sea of his life. This blend of vulnerability and strength was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into her and further away from his guilt.
The room filled with the mixed scent of rain and passion, a heady concoction that heightened their senses even more. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on their entwined bodies, enhancing the lull in the storm outside.
Lincoln traced his fingers over the curve of her body, memorizing each line and crease as if it were a sacred scripture. He kissed her deeply, his tongue seeking hers in a slow, sensual dance. Their bodies moved in rhythm to a music only they could hear, each touch setting them on fire.
Threading his fingers through her hair, he looked deep into her eyes. "Stormi," he breathed out her name like a prayer. And for once, Lincoln wished he felt at peace amid all the chaos of his life.
He held her closer as they descended deeper into their blissful oblivion. His heart pounded against his chest like a drum echoing throughout the silent room. He was doomed. Destined to go to hell. When she learned who he was and what he knew, she’d hate him.
Hell, he already hated himself.
"What are you thinking?" Stormi asked suddenly, her voice a soft whisper against his ear.
Lincoln paused momentarily, feeling the weight of all his secrets bearing down on him. But looking at Stormi's face glowing softly in the dim light—trusting, open, loving—he found he couldn't bring himself to break her heart. Not just yet.
Besides, she had her own secrets to bear.
"Nothing," he murmured back with feigned nonchalance, hoping his voice didn’t betray the storm of emotions raging within him. "Nothing at all."
As they lay in her bed, Lincoln had only one thought. A fucked-up thought, but it was one he couldn’t shake and that was—this was right; this was where he was meant to be. Despite the lies, despite the secrets, in her arms, he found a home, a sanctuary. And tonight, he had no intention of leaving that behind.