Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
Lincoln
I n the time Erika and I had been together, I had managed to avoid spending time with Morgan and her fiancé. Erika, however, was becoming wise to my excuses, her sharp intuition honing in on the gaps in my stories. My latest move was to arrange for us to spend the Fourth of July holiday at my parents' Southampton home. With them in Europe for two weeks and Talon running my father’s business in his absence, it was the perfect escape—far from prying eyes and awkward conversations.
“Are you almost packed?” I called out, stretching out lazily on her bed. The SUV I rented was waiting downstairs, its engine still warm from the drive over.
“Almost,” Erika’s voice floated out from the closet, a hint of frustration coloring her tone. “I can’t decide which bikinis to bring.”
“Why don’t you just swim naked?” I suggested, a smirk tugging at my lips.
Her laugh was muffled by the closet’s walls. “I’m sure you’d love that.”
“I would. It would make things much easier.”
A moment later, her face appeared in the doorway, one perfectly arched brow raised. “Easier for what?”
I met her gaze, my eyes darkening with intent. “Do I really have to explain?” My body responded to the thought, a familiar heat spreading through me.
She caught the change in my expression and chuckled, the sound rich and teasing. “And you call me a nymphomaniac,” she quipped before disappearing back into the closet.
I leaned back, rubbing the growing bulge in my shorts, willing my arousal to subside. Over the past few weeks, our sex life had taken a more intense turn—Erika had revealed a side of herself that both intrigued and challenged me. She liked to be restrained, but she also enjoyed taking control, something I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. The thought of surrendering, even to her, unsettled me. I was used to being in charge, and the idea of bending, even slightly, didn’t sit well with me.
A few minutes later, she emerged, dressed in a light blue sundress with tiny flowers that clung to her curves in all the right places. The low-cut neckline and delicate straps showcased her creamy chest and the inviting curve of her cleavage.
I let out a low whistle, my eyes lingering on her. “I love that dress on you.”
“I bet you do, Elliott,” she replied, her voice laced with knowing amusement. “It would be nice if you could think about something other than sex once in a while.”
“I do. I think about money, too.”
She rolled her eyes, walking over to me with a smirk on her lips. “The roots of all evil—sex and money.”
“You’re part of it, too, so don’t put all the blame on me,” I shot back, my tone playful but pointed.
Erika straddled me, her body pressing against mine as she ran her hips over the hard length of my bulge. The heat radiating from between her legs was driving me wild, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything other than her.
“Keep it up,” I warned, my voice thick with desire.
“Up being the operative word,” she purred, her breath hot against my ear.
I groaned, my hands gripping her waist. “Do you want to leave or fool around?”
“Fool being the operative word,” she echoed, her voice low and suggestive.
With a swift move, I flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath me as I pressed my now fully erect cock against her mound. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through me, making it difficult to think clearly.
“Should we, or would you rather wait for some delayed gratification?” I asked, my lips brushing against her neck as I spoke.
She looked up at me, her eyes half-lidded with desire. “I think I can wait if you can.”
“Oh, so this is a war of wills?” I teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.
“More like I want to enjoy the beach before it rains,” she murmured, her voice tinged with both mischief and longing.
I sighed, reluctantly rolling off her and sitting on the edge of the bed. The forecast had predicted storms later that evening, possibly spilling into the next day. Erika slid up behind me, her arms wrapping around my neck as she pressed her chest against my back.
“Don’t worry, stud,” she whispered, her lips grazing my ear. “There will be plenty of opportunities this weekend.”
“I hope so,” I replied, my voice tinged with impatience. “Let’s get moving.”
With a swift move, I stood, Erika clinging to me like a monkey as I grabbed her suitcase and rolled it out to the foyer.
“Want to get down, or should I carry you like this to the car?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at her.
“I like it. Carry me,” she responded, her tone playful.
“I wish I was carrying you somewhere else,” I muttered, my voice low with suggestion.
“Here we go about sex again,” she teased, her tone light, but her eyes said she didn’t mind at all.
“It’s tattooed on my brain,” I admitted, feeling the truth of it deep in my bones. “You’re tattooed on my brain.”
“You’re one big mush, Elliott,” she said, pressing a kiss to my neck.
“It seems to be a theme with my family,” I murmured, a fleeting thought of my brothers crossing my mind.
Talon had recently confided that he was back to chasing after Storm. She continued to dismiss his affection, leaving him more frustrated and heartbroken with each passing day. And Michael... Michael was a mess. The Fourth would mark the anniversary of his disappearance, a memory that hung over our family like a dark cloud. I was relieved he had returned—otherwise, the holiday would have been nothing but a painful reminder.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, I carried Erika to the car, determined to make this weekend about us and nothing else.
"Stop squirming in your seat," I said, glancing over at Erika, who shifted for what felt like the hundredth time.
"I hate traffic," she grumbled, her fingers tapping impatiently on the armrest. "We should’ve left later. The LIE is always a nightmare, especially on a holiday weekend."
"It'll ease up once we get further out," I reassured her, though I wasn’t entirely convinced myself.
"It’s already been two and a half hours of this stop-go shit," she whined, her voice taking on that sultry edge that always got to me. "And I’m horny."
"Fuck, don’t say that," I muttered, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.
Erika’s hand slid onto my crotch, and I quickly pulled it away, shooting her a warning look.
"Care to get dirty?" she purred, her lips curving into that wicked smile I both loved and feared.
"I need to concentrate on the road," I replied, trying to ignore the heat pooling in my groin.
She raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "Seriously? We’re moving at two miles an hour. Are you afraid to crash?"
"Safety first," I shot back, though the conviction in my voice was wavering.
"Then you won’t mind if I get myself off, do you?" she taunted, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
"You won’t," I challenged, though I wasn’t sure if I was daring her or pleading with her to stop. "What happened to delayed gratification?"
"I thought I’d be gratified by now," she retorted, her fingers already teasing the hem of her dress. "I had no idea traffic would be this bad."
I glanced over just as her hand disappeared under the skirt of her dress, her soft moan making my pulse race.
"Are you wet?" I asked, my voice thick with desire.
"Very," she breathed, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "And this feels so good."
"I want to watch," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
"Then get to the house quicker," she shot back, her tone a mix of challenge and promise. "I can show you."
"That won’t be possible," I admitted, my mind already racing. "I want to see. Pull up your dress."
"And what would be the purpose?" she teased, her lips curling into a smug smile. "You’ll just get blue balls."
"I already have blue balls," I growled, the ache in my groin nearly unbearable.
She smiled wickedly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can help you with that."
"People can see us," I protested weakly, though the idea was becoming more tempting by the second.
"Bullshit," she countered, her voice low and insistent. "The windows are tinted and closed. We’re high enough so no one can see."
She had a point… and my balls ached with need. Her idea was sounding more plausible by the second. After a moment of hesitation, I gripped the steering wheel and gave her a heated look.
"Pull it up," I whispered, my voice rough with anticipation.
Erika didn’t hesitate. She flipped her skirt up, her dark blue panties slipping aside to reveal her glistening, clean-shaven pussy. My mouth watered as I took in the sight, every ounce of self-control I had hanging by a thread.
She paused, her eyes locking onto mine, waiting for the command she knew was coming.
"Open my pants," I directed, my voice thick with urgency.
Erika raised her brows, a smirk playing on her lips. "You’re game?"
"It hurts," I admitted, the ache in my groin becoming unbearable.
She chuckled softly, her fingers already moving toward my belt. "Should have fucked me before we left."
"Do it," I said hastily, my patience wearing thin.
Erika’s hands were quick and efficient as she opened my belt and unzipped my shorts, her need momentarily set aside as she slipped her hand inside, stroking my painfully hard cock.
"I wish I could have this now," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.
"Not possible unless we pull off," I managed through a moan, the pleasure already clouding my thoughts.
"There’s a rest area up ahead," she suggested, her tone both practical and filled with desire.
"I wouldn’t," I groaned, even as the temptation gnawed at me. "It will push us behind."
"I’m not worried about my tan right now," she stated plainly, her voice resolute. "I want to come."
Her words sent a jolt through me, and without thinking, I lifted my hips as much as I could, pushing my boxers and shorts down further to expose my throbbing cock. Erika’s hand moved slowly, deliberately, stroking me with a torturous rhythm while her other hand slipped beneath her skirt to rub her swollen clit.
Overloaded by the sudden turn of events, I struggled to hold on, not wanting to release before she did. The sensation was overwhelming, her touch sending electric pulses through my body.
"This is so good," she murmured, her voice a breathy moan.
I could hear her breath hitch, her hand tightening around my cock as she began to climax. She was lost in her own ecstasy, her focus so intense that I had to cover her hand with mine to keep her from slowing down. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, her mouth hanging slightly open as her orgasm washed over her, her breasts rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.
When she finally regained her composure, she resumed jerking me with renewed vigor, causing me to gasp as I fought to keep my eyes on the road. Her free hand darted to the small tissue dispenser in the door, preparing for the inevitable.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp intake of breath, I came, my body tensing as she skillfully managed to contain the mess, keeping my shorts clean.
"That was delicious," Erika said with a satisfied grin. "I should’ve sucked you."
"Now you tell me?" I replied, a mixture of frustration and amusement in my voice.
My parents' home loomed grand and pristine, its white facade accented by towering pillars that stretched from the porch deck to the roof. The front garden was a burst of color, with my mother’s roses in full bloom—vibrant reds, soft pinks, sunny yellows, and crisp whites framed the house, while the freshly graded pea gravel crunched beneath the SUV's tires.
As I pulled in, the sky darkened with storm clouds, their arrival earlier than expected. A few fat raindrops splattered against the windshield just as we stepped out. I hurried to the back, opening the hatch to grab the suitcases before the heavens unleashed their full fury. We dashed under the porch’s overhang, narrowly avoiding the deluge.
"Just in time," Erika said, her arms slipping around my waist, her body warm against mine.
"Ready to see Casa de Elliott?" I asked, glancing down at her.
She smiled, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Absolutely. The outside is gorgeous."
"My mom’s got a gardener to keep the roses in top shape," I said, catching the faint, sweet scent of the blossoms as the wind picked up.
"They smell amazing," she remarked.
A jagged bolt of lightning sliced through the sky as I fished the keys out of my pocket. My parents had recently renovated the home, but they’d kept its original charm, preserving the dark wood accents that gave it character. I flicked on the lights as we entered, and the massive crystal chandelier above us sparkled to life. Erika's eyes widened, taking in the grandeur.
"Fantastic," she breathed. "I bet this place could easily sell for twelve million."
"Fifteen," I corrected with a grin. "We’re right on the water."
She let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "I’d like to freshen up before you give me the full tour."
"Follow me," I said, taking her hand and leading her to the bathroom just off the foyer. It was one of nine full baths in the house, all designed by my father, who’d insisted on light granites, neutral tiles, and fixtures that blended seamlessly with the soft beige walls. The foyer bathroom was no exception—almond granite countertops and understated elegance at every turn. Erika checked her hair in the full wall mirror over the vanity before washing her hands.
"You’re gorgeous, as always," I commented, leaning against the doorframe.
She gave me a playful look. "Are you going to watch me pee?"
"Tempting," I said with a smirk, "but I’ll give you some privacy."
I backed away, closing the heavy wooden door behind me. With Erika occupied, I made my way to the kitchen to check if the caretakers had followed my instructions. I opened the stainless steel French door refrigerator, pleased to find it stocked with everything I’d requested—my favorite Heineken and the crisp white wine Erika preferred, sitting on the bottom shelf. I grabbed a green bottle of beer, popped the top off with the magnetic opener on the fridge, and took a long swig.
"Already starting to drink?" Erika’s voice carried from the edge of the kitchen.
I turned to see her leaning against the doorway, her eyes catching the soft light filtering in from the windows. Just as I reached for the switch to turn on the ceiling fans, the lights flickered, then went out completely.
"Fuck, we’re in the dark," I muttered, glancing around.
"It’s not that dark," she replied, unfazed. "But it might be in a few hours. We might need to light some candles."
"Sounds romantic," I said with a shrug. "And yes, I have some wine in the fridge for you."
"Maybe," I teased, taking another sip of beer.
"Cut the crap, Elliott," she shot back, rolling her eyes with a grin.
I chuckled, setting the beer down on the counter. "All right, all right. Let’s get some candles ready, just in case. And then I’ll pour you that wine."
Her phone rang, and Erika quickly pulled it from her dress pocket to answer. The seductive lilt in her voice immediately caught my attention, and I frowned as she engaged in conversation. Scooting closer, I strained to hear the other end—a man’s voice. She was discussing properties, but the way she called him honey more than once rubbed me the wrong way. I knew it was just business, but a wave of frustration tore through my chest. After she hung up, she noticed my discomfort.
"What?" she asked, her brow arching in challenge.
"Honey?" I echoed, my tone sharp.
"It’s business. I’m not fucking anyone but you."
"I certainly hope not."
"I don’t like the implication," she shot back, her eyes narrowing.
"There is no implication."
"The implication that I’m using sex to get the sale," she clarified, her voice tinged with annoyance.
"Aren’t you? You smile, you talk sweet and seductive."
"And you don’t? I’ve seen you in action. You charm the panties off your clients," she countered, crossing her arms.
"Most of mine are male. I wouldn’t be using seduction on them," I retorted, irritation creeping into my voice.
"Your jealousy is showing again," she pointed out, her tone softening slightly.
"I don’t want to share," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
"I never said you would need to. Don’t you think we argue too much about this subject?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
"I’m making a point."
"You’re staking your claim. I’m not a possession," she insisted.
"I love you."
"I know that, and I love you too, so stop getting so bent over nothing."
I grumbled under my breath, taking another swig of my beer as a bolt of lightning split the darkened sky. Erika put down her wine and moved to the floor-to-ceiling sliders that overlooked the pool. She pressed her nose against the glass, watching the rain pelt the bluestone patio. Unable to resist, I followed, pressing my body against hers, feeling the warmth of her skin through her clothes.
"You’re a pain in the ass, Elliott, but you’re so worth the trouble," she murmured, her breath fogging up the glass.
"Ditto," I replied, planting a kiss on her vanilla-scented hair and rubbing the smooth skin of her shoulders.
"It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon. What should we do?" she asked, turning slightly to look at me.
"I can think of lots of things I want to do."
"Does it have anything to do with the rod pressing against my back?" she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
Around her, I had little control. She made me weak, and it was something I hated to admit despite loving the effect.
"That could be," I admitted, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"You’re incorrigible."
I eased up, allowing her to turn and press her back against the cool glass. Outside, the storm raged, the rain hammering down in relentless sheets, but I was lost in Erika. I didn’t flinch when a loud clap of thunder vibrated the house and rattled the windows. She did, though, and I instinctively pulled her closer.
"Are you scared of the storm?" I asked quietly, my lips brushing against her ear.
"A little. I hate when it gets this bad," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
"I’ll protect you," I promised, my arms tightening around her.
The sky seemed to darken further at my words, and another bolt of lightning illuminated the kitchen, casting eerie shadows across the walls. The lights flickered on for a brief moment before plunging us back into darkness.
"From Mother Nature?" She looked up at me, her big blue eyes filled with vulnerability, and it made me melt.
"From everything. I want to insulate you," I whispered, my heart swelling with the need to keep her safe.
"I’m not a child," she reminded me, though her voice lacked its usual edge.
"But I want to protect you."
Erika buried her face in my shirt, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. The storm raged on outside, but in that moment, with her in my arms, I could stay like this forever.
“I don’t want to get out. Can we freshen the water again?” Erika’s voice was a soft plea, her back pressed warmly against my chest as the steam from the oversized egg-shaped tub enveloped us.
I ran my fingers gently along her shoulders, enjoying the intimate contact. “I guess,” I murmured, reluctantly releasing her from my embrace. I reached for the faucet, letting some of the water drain before adding more hot water to the tub.
“Feels so good,” Erika sighed, settling back between my legs as the new water filled the tub with comforting heat.
“You’re the first woman I’ve ever shared a bath with,” I confessed, tracing the line of her jaw with my fingertips.
Erika’s eyes sparkled as she turned her head slightly. “Because you’ve never had a relationship before?”
I shook my head, my breath brushing against her damp skin. “No. It’s because I see it as something too intimate—something confusing to share with someone I wouldn’t want in my life long-term.”
Curiosity edged her voice. “I’m curious. How many women have you slept with before?”
I twisted a strand of her long blonde hair around my fingers, considering the question. “Is that really relevant?”
“It’s not a judgment. I’m just interested,” she said, her tone softening.
“Too many, and some I should’ve walked away from,” I admitted, a hint of regret in my voice. “I like sex, and I enjoyed the offers.”
Erika shifted in my lap, her voice light but probing. “In my opinion, you don’t just like sex; you love it.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She shook her head with a teasing smile. “Not really. I’ve had my share too.”
“But you were safe, and so was I,” I reassured, feeling a flicker of pride. “I got tested regularly.”
“If you won’t tell me an exact number, how many in the past year?” she pressed, her gaze steady.
“Maybe ten. I didn’t always indulge, and as I got older, I became more selective,” I said, my voice steady but tinged with discomfort.
“Why me?” Erika’s question was quiet, but it held an edge of vulnerability.
I bent down, planting a soft kiss on her wet shoulder. “I don’t know. You caught my eye at the gym. I was drawn to your effortless charm, the way you tied that guy’s sneaker without a second thought. Was that a stunt to get my attention?”
“You mean Peter?” Erika asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. “It wasn’t a stunt. He has a bad back. I didn’t mind.”
“I noticed how he looked at you,” I said, my tone serious.
“And how did he look?” Erika’s voice was playful but curious.
“Like he was in love,” I answered, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
Erika laughed lightly, a sound that seemed to fill the room. “I doubt it. Peter’s been married to the love of his life for twenty-five years. He’s just trying to lose weight for their anniversary trip. Are you jealous?”
Her words stung, but I tried to mask it. “Jealous of him?”
“It sounds like it. Underneath all that bravado, you’re a worried little boy,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.
“Worried?” I growled, feeling the heat rise in my chest.
“That you’ll lose what you think is yours,” she said softly.
“You are mine, and I’m not worried,” I said firmly.
“Keep telling yourself that,” she murmured, her tone almost resigned.
“Are you looking for a fight?” I asked, frustration lacing my voice.
“I think it’s time we got out of the tub,” Erika said, standing up with a graceful movement.
I reached out, pulling her back against me, my arms wrapping around her chest. “You always do this,” I said, my voice a mix of irritation and longing. “You evade discussions rather than finish them.”
“I don’t want to argue. You know my history. I refuse to bring chaos into my life now,” she said, her voice firm but tired.
“But we’re not arguing,” I said, my voice softening.
“Let me go, Lincoln,” she insisted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
The use of my name was a final signal, and I released her immediately. Erika stood up, grabbing a thick cream-colored towel from the bar near the tub. She wrapped it around herself and stepped onto the beige mat, leaving me alone in the dimly lit bathroom.
As the door closed behind her, I sat in the cooling water, feeling the storm outside match the turmoil within me. I remained in the tub, the water slowly chilling, as I pondered how to address what had just happened. Everything about this relationship was new to me, and the only example of a strong, lasting relationship I had was my parents, who had been together for over thirty-five years.
I found Erika sitting on the window seat in the master bedroom, a serene nook flanking the French doors that led out to the terrace. She was lost in the pages of a book from the shelves built into the seat, her focus intent as I approached.
Her blue eyes met mine as I drew closer, and I noticed the weariness etched into her features. I offered her a tentative smile, trying to bridge the distance between us.
“What are you reading?” I asked gently, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Paradise Lost,” she replied, her tone flat.
“I didn’t know you were religious,” I said, curiosity tinged with concern.
“I’m not,” she said, closing the book and setting it aside. “I’m spiritual, and after today, I think it’s fitting.”
“Our paradise is not lost,” I said, my voice earnest. “Tell me how to make it better.”
Erika looked up at me, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resolve. “I’m not sure we can make it better. You’re jealous, and I’m insecure. In some ways, you’re insecure, too. We both need stable people to hold us together.”
“I am stable,” I insisted, frustration bubbling under the surface. “I’m just a novice at relationships. Don’t end what we have because of fear. We can work this out together.”
“Why are you afraid?” she asked, her voice softening.
“Of losing you,” I admitted, my heart laid bare. “Sometimes I wake up at night, and I feel you in my arms. It makes me think how lucky I am to have found my soulmate so soon. Some people spend a lifetime searching for theirs.”
“You think I’m your soulmate?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“I do,” I said, my hand reaching out to brush a strand of her damp hair from her face. “I’ve never been in sync with someone like this before. I can only chalk it up to us sharing souls.”
I sat down next to her, and she leaned her head onto my shoulder. Her damp hair was warm against my skin, and I ran my fingers through it, feeling her relax in my touch. Her soft hum of contentment filled the quiet room.
“I love you, Elliott,” she murmured.
“I love you, too,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “We can make this work. I know we can.”
“I hope so,” she whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty but also a flicker of hope.