Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Erika
L incoln Elliott. The man who told me he loved me, yet I didn’t know how to feel about it. The confession was like a warm glow inside, but it also terrified me, pushing me to run. Love. The house I grew up in was filled with it—until it wasn’t. The arguments, the venomous words that filled the air for years, scared me off from any meaningful relationships once I started putting myself out there. Morgan always said I was foolish to let the past dictate my future, but here I was with Lincoln, wondering if I’d made the same mistake.
Now, as I laid in his bed, the afterglow of sex still lingering, I wondered if maybe I was in love with him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the endorphins talking. Lincoln was unlike any man I’d ever met—hard and soft, dominant and submissive, all at once. He bent just enough to forgive my stupidity but held firm enough to let me know he wanted to be in charge. The only problem? I wanted to be the boss too.
“Erika,” Lincoln whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he pulled me closer. His arms tightened around me, anchoring me against his chest. “How do you feel?”
“Sore,” I murmured, a smile tugging at my lips. I shifted slightly, trying to ease the dull ache in my muscles.
“Was I too rough?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek.
“I like it a little rough, Elliott. You should know that by now,” I teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in my eye.
“But I could hurt you,” he said softly, his brow furrowing. He traced the line of my jaw with his thumb, his touch gentle.
“The only way you could hurt me is emotionally,” I replied, my voice softening as I met his gaze. The weight of my words hung in the air between us.
“And I promise to never do that,” he vowed, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.
“It happens,” I said with a small shrug, trying to keep my tone light. “Just don’t do it intentionally.”
“I have no plans to,” he assured me, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. The kiss was tender, but it quickly deepened, his need for me evident in the way his hands roamed my body.
He kissed me again, then gently bit my neck, sending a shiver racing down my spine. I let out a soft moan, shifting against him, my thigh brushing against his growing hardness.
“Seriously?” I asked, half-laughing, half-exasperated as I felt him harden against me. “We finished ten minutes ago.”
“You’re smoking hot, and I love you,” he said, his words halting as if he regretted saying them. He pulled back slightly, his expression wary.
“I’m sorry. I won’t say it anymore,” he added quickly, his gaze dropping to the space between us.
“You better not stop saying it,” I growled playfully before I leaned in and gently bit down on his forearm, making him wince slightly.
“Does that mean you’re okay with it?” he asked, his voice filled with hope as he searched my face for any sign of hesitation.
“Morgan says I should try it, so I guess you’ll be my first,” I admitted, my tone light but with an underlying seriousness.
“I find it hard to believe you haven’t had a man in love with you,” he said, a hint of disbelief coloring his words as he raised an eyebrow at me.
“Oh, I’ve had plenty of men in love with me. I just never gave it back,” I replied, a mischievous smile playing on my lips.
“Excuse me? Say that again,” he demanded, his voice taking on a mock sternness as he tightened his grip on me.
“I’ll do you one better—I love you,” I said, my voice soft but steady. The truth of it settled in my chest like a warm glow.
“You love me?” he echoed, his eyes widening in surprise as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
“Why are you so surprised? You’re easy to love. Persistent and a little bit of a pain in my ass,” I teased, a grin spreading across my face.
Lincoln’s hand slid down between us, cupping my right ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze before his fingers moved to my left, seeking out my clit. I gasped as he began to rub slow, lazy circles, pulling my leg over his hip before guiding his cock into me.
“Shit, that feels good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. I tightened around him, and he hissed, “Don’t, sweetheart, I’ll come.”
I giggled, a wicked smile spreading across my lips. “Isn’t that the point?”
“But not like a virgin on his first go,” he said, his voice strained as he tried to hold back.
“Shut up, Elliott, and fuck me,” I commanded, my voice low and sultry as I tightened my grip on him, urging him on.
Lincoln slipped his arm under my body, steadying my torso as he pressed his hips against mine, moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The friction was intoxicating, and I could feel every inch of him as he thrust into me. His fingers found my swollen nub, and he began to rub faster, his touch sending electric currents through my body. I gasped, gripping his wrist as my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave.
“Erika,” he moaned, his voice rough and breathless, as I panted through the waves of pleasure, my body quivering in his arms. Vulnerability hung in the air between us, a potent mix of power and submission. We were equals in this moment, two forces colliding and blending into one.
Lincoln’s hips moved faster, the tension in his body building until I felt him stiffen against me. With a low grunt, he exploded inside me, his release triggering a final shudder through my own body. We lay there in a tangled heap, our breathing heavy and labored, the world outside fading into nothingness.
The quiet was broken by the shrill ring of Lincoln’s phone. He reached over to answer it, still buried deep inside me. I turned my head to stare at him, disbelief flashing in my eyes as he casually took a call, his voice smooth and professional despite the very compromising position we were in.
I tried to pull away, the oddness of the situation creeping into my mind, but Lincoln held me tight, his arm a firm anchor around my waist. He finished the call in less than two minutes, hanging up with a calm, “Talk to you later.”
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I said, my voice tinged with disbelief.
“Don’t be surprised,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve been in more compromising positions when taking client calls.”
I arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “More compromising than your dick inside me?”
He chuckled, pulling out of me as he began to soften, rolling onto his back. “I think so,” he said, his tone teasing.
“Tell me,” I demanded, turning to face him. I rested my head on his shoulder, my fingers tracing lazy circles around his nipples. “Unless it’s so illicit I’ll blush.”
“Pervert?” he laughed, shaking his head. “You make me sound like a criminal.”
“What have you done?” I asked, curiosity bubbling up inside me.
“I’ve gotten a blowjob while negotiating a deal,” he confessed, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“And you didn’t slip with a moan or a grunt?” I teased, biting my lower lip.
“Nope. I was pretty quiet,” he said, his chest puffing slightly with pride. “My client had no idea, and I closed the deal.”
“You’re bold,” I said, my voice dropping as I leaned in and bit into his nipple, eliciting a gasp from him.
“Stop teasing, or else,” he warned, his tone playful yet laced with heat.
“Or else what?” I challenged, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You’ll call a client and fuck me while discussing a deal?”
“Wise ass,” he growled, pinning me beneath him with a predatory grin. “I knew there was something I liked about you.”
“No,” I countered, my voice softening as I met his gaze. “There’s something you love about me.”
“Of course,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Love was what I meant to say.”
“Do you have any ice cream?” I asked suddenly, the shift in conversation catching him off guard.
“Ice cream?” he echoed, blinking at me in confusion. “You want ice cream now?”
“Do you have any,” I repeated, “or are we getting dressed and heading to Mr. Moo?”
Lincoln groaned, clearly not thrilled with the idea of leaving the bed. “We are not dressing for anything. I’m keeping you here all night.”
“Only if you have ice cream and you go get it for me,” I challenged, my tone playful but firm.
He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I only have mint chocolate chip.”
“I love mint chocolate chip,” I said, my smile widening. “Just bring the pint.”
“It’s a half-gallon,” he corrected.
“Even better,” I quipped.
He raised an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Are you getting your period or something?”
“In a few days,” I admitted, shrugging.
“Should I worry?” he asked, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.
“You believe that PMS shit?” I shot back. “I don’t get bitchy around my period. I’m like that all the time,” I said, gripping his ass.
“Little tease,” he growled, rolling me onto my back and hovering over me, his eyes gleaming with playful menace. He dipped down, capturing my mouth with his, the kiss hard and demanding, mashing our lips together in a way that made my head spin.
“Ice cream it is,” he said, pulling back with a grin, leaving me breathless and wanting more, even though we’d already had sex twice in the past hour.
“Where the fuck are you?” Lincoln’s voice crackled through the receiver, sharp and edged with frustration.
“I’m with a client,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tension. “I took them out to dinner.”
“We were supposed to have dinner two hours ago,” Lincoln growled, each word dripping with irritation.
“I understand that,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, “but I couldn’t just blow this guy off.”
“Just as long as you’re not blowing him,” Lincoln shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Anger flared in my chest, hot and unrelenting. “Why would you say something so vulgar? Is your fucking jealousy getting the best of you? How dare you accuse me like that!” I glanced up to see a woman giving me a disapproving look as she hurried her daughter into the bathroom, clearly annoyed by my raised voice. I was sitting in the lounge just outside the door, trying to keep my composure.
Lincoln hissed with restrained fury. “I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“I didn’t call to argue,” I said, my tone clipped.
“Then why did you call?” Lincoln’s voice was tight, as if he were barely holding onto his temper.
“I think it’s best if I sleep at my place tonight,” I said, the words coming out more resigned than I intended.
“Suit yourself. You’ve been disconnected from me lately anyway,” his tone was edged with bitterness.
“That’s bullshit,” I shot back. “It’s almost summer, and business has picked up. I’m busy.”
“Don’t use that excuse on me,” Lincoln snapped. “I’m just as busy, but I still make time for us.”
I lowered my voice, my irritation now mingled with frustration. “You make time when you want to fuck.”
“Goodbye, Erika,” Lincoln said coldly. “I hope the deal was worth it.”
Before I could respond, the line went dead. I stared at my phone, the finality of his words hanging heavily in the air. Over the past three weeks, my busy schedule and the strain on our relationship had reached a tipping point.
To add to it, I’d been helping Morgan prepare for her upcoming wedding to Slade. It was the right thing to do for my best friend, but Lincoln had grown increasingly frustrated with my absence. I loved him, but I was beginning to feel suffocated.
I turned back to my client, Sabian Jackson, a trust-fund baby with a taste for Manhattan real estate. He was waiting expectantly, his blue eyes innocent and inviting.
“Want to go to a club?” Sabian asked as I sat down beside him.
Sabian, close to my age but with a youthful charm, looked like he could enchant any woman. His brown hair was meticulously styled, and his large, innocent eyes belied his intentions.
“I can’t,” I said, my tone polite but firm. “I have a lot of work to catch up on when I get back to my apartment.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m on the list at both Haze and Surge. We could get VIP service.”
“I appreciate the offer,” I said, shaking my head. “But I have a lot to get done tonight.”
Sabian glanced at his gold-banded Rolex. “It’s already 9 pm. How long do you plan to work?”
“All night,” I replied with conviction. “I’ve been known to negotiate deals until the wee hours.”
For the next ten minutes, Sabian tried persistently to lure me out, but his interest was clearly more than just professional. I could sense his motives and had no intention of engaging with him, especially with Lincoln’s anger still simmering.
Sabian’s smirk widened. “I bet there are other things you can do all night.”
I leaned in closer, my patience wearing thin. “Do you actually want to buy a property, or are you trying to get me into bed?”
“I need a new apartment,” Sabian said with a smarmy grin, “but sleeping with you would be icing on the cake. You’re beautiful.”
“I’m in a relationship,” I said firmly.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Sabian dismissed, downing the rest of his vodka and signaling for another. “Besides, you deserve to have a little fun.”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not really,” he replied, grabbing my hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.
“Let her go,” a commanding voice barked from behind me.
I twisted to see Lincoln standing there, his face flushed, and his fists clenched in fury. His jaw muscles tensed visibly as he glared at Sabian. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of Lincoln’s imposing presence. Sabian, immediately cowed, dropped my hand, and the air crackled with palpable tension.
“Lincoln,” I started.
“Hey man, I meant no harm,” Sabian said, his voice dripping with false remorse.
I was too stunned to respond as Lincoln yanked out a chair and slammed himself into it. It had been a day since I’d last seen him, and I couldn’t help but take in his presence. He wore a light blue dress shirt that accentuated his broad chest and was tucked into tan khakis. Brown loafers completed the look, his sockless feet making a subtle statement of casual elegance. But the heat of his anger radiated off him in waves, pulling me back into the uncomfortable reality of the moment.
Lincoln’s gaze was icy as he wrapped his fingers around my half-finished glass of red wine, draining it in one gulp. He licked his lips before placing the glass back on the table with deliberate care.
“Mr…?” Lincoln’s voice was low, but it held a menacing edge as he stared at Sabian.
“Jackson,” Sabian stammered, his voice quivering.
“Mr. Jackson,” Lincoln continued, his tone dangerously smooth, “you should really keep your hands to yourself.”
“I’m…I’m…” Sabian’s voice faltered under Lincoln’s intense scrutiny.
“If you plan to work with Miss Bramwell,” Lincoln said, his words measured and cold, “you will be respectful and decent.”
Sabian nodded vigorously. “I understand.”
“I hope so,” Lincoln said, his voice dripping with disdain. “A trust fund doesn’t give you the right to put your hands on her.”
“I know,” Sabian mumbled, looking down.
As the waiter arrived with Sabian’s vodka, Lincoln snatched the glass away and took a sip. His hand settled possessively on my knee before sliding up my thigh, his fingers curling around my flesh with a firm grip.
“Apologize,” Lincoln commanded, his eyes never leaving Sabian’s.
“Lincoln, it’s obvious he’s sorry,” I interjected, my voice edged with frustration. “Stop it.”
Lincoln ignored me, his attention solely on Sabian. His grip on my leg tightened, a reminder of his dominance.
“I’m sorry. I should go.” Sabian fumbled with his pocket, tossing a stack of hundreds onto the table. Without another word, he scrambled out of the lounge, his hurried footsteps echoing in the quiet.
“Asshole,” I hissed at Lincoln, turning to him with a mixture of irritation and relief. “I’ll probably never hear from him again.”
“Good,” Lincoln said, his tone resolute. “The last thing I want is to worry about you around him.”
“Get your hands off me,” I snapped, though the edge in my voice was softened by the lingering tension. “How did you even find me?”
“I found a note you left in my kitchen about this place,” Lincoln explained, his demeanor softening slightly. “I took a chance.”
Lincoln removed his hand and drained the rest of the vodka from Sabian’s glass. “I’m finished,” I said, my voice weary. “I don’t have any appetite left. I’d like to go home.”
“Not without me,” Lincoln insisted, his smirk returning. “You ruined our dinner, so I deserve your time.”
“You deserve my time?” I shot back. “You’re lucky I don’t slap you right now.”
Lincoln’s smirk deepened, and I felt a sudden urge to kiss him. Despite my anger, it was hard to stay mad at him. In hindsight, he had probably saved me from a situation with Sabian that could have escalated. I knew too many men like Sabian—those who thought money gave them the right to take whatever they wanted.
“Then do it,” Lincoln taunted, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hit me until you feel better.”
“I’d rather do it in private,” I said, a touch of humor softening my tone.
Lincoln waved over the waiter, handing him the stack of bills Sabian had left. It was more than enough to cover the check and leave a generous tip. As he finished, his hand lingered on mine for a moment, a silent promise of a night that would be about us—minus the complications.
“Let’s go,” Lincoln said, his voice low and resolute. “We have unfinished business.”