Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
Lincoln
A fter enduring two weeks of pure misery, Erika was finally back in my arms. The moment I saw her, I knew I had to forgive her for her mistake. If I wanted her, I couldn’t let Foster Black have her, not after everything we’d been through. He didn’t deserve her.
Now, as the cab navigated the city streets on our way to my apartment, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Erika had just called Grant, feigning illness, and assured him she was heading home. He’d offered to check on her later, but I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him there’d be no need—she’d be safe and secure with me tonight.
I held her close, my fingers trailing over the soft skin of her arm as I fought the overwhelming urge to bury my face in her cleavage. The desire to kiss and claim every inch of her body pulsed within me, but I forced myself to be patient. Instead, I pressed my nose against her cheek, inhaling her familiar scent.
“I love you,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. “These four weeks have been hell.”
“Not as hellish as they’ve been for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I almost made a mistake.”
“I made the mistake of not fighting harder for you,” I confessed, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“Foster has nothing on you, Lincoln,” Erika said, shaking her head. “He even asked me to marry him.”
Her admission felt like a knife twisting in my gut. The thought of losing her, of ending up like Michael—separated from the woman he loved with no hope in sight—was unbearable.
“Why did you say no?” I asked, needing to hear her answer.
“Because he’s not you,” she replied, her voice strong despite the tears welling in her eyes. “I once loved Foster, but he’ll never compare to you. I love you, Lincoln. With all my heart.”
“Nothing for him?” I asked, needing reassurance.
“Not a shred,” she said, her voice breaking. “He doesn’t deserve me. He never did. I made a mistake.” Erika’s voice cracked as she sniffled, tears threatening to fall.
“Don’t cry,” I said gently, my thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. “You don’t need to shed any more tears.”
“I damaged us. I damaged you,” she whispered, her voice heavy with regret.
“Look at me,” I urged, lifting her chin so our eyes met. I took the handkerchief from her hand and gently wiped away her tears. “Do I look damaged?”
“You look sad,” she said, her voice small. “I’m the cause.”
“I’m not sad,” I assured her, shaking my head. “I forgive you, and we can move past this.”
“You told me you couldn’t forgive me,” she reminded me, doubt creeping into her voice.
“I was angry,” I admitted, the memory of that moment still raw. “It was in the heat of the moment. You know how stubborn I can be.”
“I do,” she said with a faint smile, “but I hurt you. You might forgive me, but I can never forgive myself.”
“It won’t work if you don’t let it go,” I said softly, my hand cupping her face. “I’m giving you permission to let it go. You changed me, Erika. You made me want to settle down, to be a one-woman man. No one else has ever done that.”
I pulled her closer, her soft skin warm against mine. “This dress… it’s something else,” I said, my voice low as my fingers traced the fabric.
“I picked it with you in mind,” she admitted, her smile bittersweet. “I was disappointed when you didn’t show up.”
“I’m always fashionably late,” I teased, though the weight of our earlier separation still lingered between us.
“Who was the woman with you?” Erika asked.
“Carla Desantis,” I said casually. “We’re old friends.”
“You seemed… intimate,” she observed, trying to keep the jealousy from her voice but failed.
“Not at all,” I assured her. “I’ve known her for years. She’s like family—and she’s engaged.”
“Engaged?”She asked, surprised. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger.”
“Carla’s non-traditional,” I explained. “She doesn’t buy into all that.”
“I’m not,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
“You’re not what?” I asked, curiosity sparking.
“Non-traditional,” she clarified.
“Does that mean you want a ring?”
“I want everything,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “I want what my parents had for the first few years of their marriage—except I don’t want it to go bad.”
“I can give that to you,” I promised, my voice steady. “I’ll be faithful, decent. You’re special to me.”
“Lincoln…” she began, her voice full of emotion.
“No more Elliott?” I asked, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.
“I’m sure of you now,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m committed to you.”
I pulled her even closer, my heart swelling as the cab pulled up to my building. I slipped out first, offering her my hand as she stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Oh, I have nothing here to wear,” she said, a hint of worry in her voice.
“Do you want to go home?” I asked, though the thought of letting her go even for a moment made my chest tighten.
“I’ll make do,” she replied with a smile, her eyes full of warmth and promise.
I held her hand as we rode the elevator up and down the hall to my apartment, unwilling to lose the connection between us. It wasn’t until we reached my bedroom that I reluctantly let her go.
“Do you want to wear this t-shirt to bed?” I asked, pulling out a black shirt from my dresser and holding it up.
“No,” she said, shaking her head with a small smile. “I want the one you’re wearing under your dress shirt.”
“It’s dirty,” I warned, not quite understanding her request.
“It’s not, and it smells like you,” she insisted. “I want to be close to you.”
“You don’t need to wear my clothes to be close to me,” I murmured, stepping closer. “You have me right here.”
“I still want it,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I want to be enveloped by your scent.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her, though the sound of her laughter filled me with warmth. Hearing her happy again made my heart swell with love.
“Enveloped you shall be,” I teased, slipping off my tuxedo jacket. Erika kicked off her heels, shrinking a few inches, and I watched her, captivated by how effortlessly she moved. As I started to pull at my tie, she stepped forward and pushed my hands away, taking over. Her fingers grasped the edge of the tie and tugged, her gaze never leaving mine. Then, slowly, she began unbuttoning my shirt, pressing her nose against my chest and inhaling deeply.
“You smell so good,” she murmured, her voice laced with longing. “I love how you smell.”
“You should take your hair down,” I suggested, my fingers itching to run through her silky locks.
“Later,” she whispered, her hands still working on my buttons. “I want to help you undress.”
“Undress away,” I said, surrendering to her touch.
She pulled the tails of my shirt from my pants, her fingers brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Then she moved to my belt, her hands deftly unbuckling it before opening my slacks. When her hand grazed my cock as she unzipped me, I almost groaned, feeling myself twitch in response.
“You should get undressed,” I murmured, my voice thick with desire. “Let me help.”
Erika turned around, presenting her back to me, and I grasped the zipper of her dress, skimming my fingers over the smooth skin of her back as I slowly pulled it down. The dress slipped to the floor in a shimmering emerald heap, and she stepped out, wearing only a black thong. The sight of her perfect derriere had me instantly hard, my desire for her almost overwhelming.
“Take off your t-shirt; I’m chilly,” she said, her voice a seductive whisper.
I whirled her around, my eyes locking onto her hardened, rosy nipples. The urge to suck them, to taste her, was almost unbearable, but I held back, not wanting to rush things.
“Looks like you have a bit of a problem there,” she teased, her hand slipping into my slacks.
“Tonight isn’t about sex,” I said, my voice low and controlled. “It’s about getting reacquainted.”
“Suppose I want sex?” she challenged, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Then we can discuss it,” I replied, trying to keep my composure.
“You know it’s after nine,” she said, her voice taking on a playful edge. “In a few hours, it won’t be today any longer. What about sex after the stroke of midnight?”
“You won’t give up, will you?” I asked, smirking at her persistence.
“Have you ever known me to?” she countered, raising an eyebrow.
“Not one bit,” I admitted, shaking my head.
“Forget the t-shirt,” she declared, her eyes darkening with desire. “I want to sleep naked. I don’t want anything between us.”
“Fine by me,” I said, a grin spreading across my face as I pushed my pants and boxers down, trying to will my erection to behave.
“Now the t-shirt and socks,” she ordered, her tone light. Then, she cocked her head, reconsidering. “On second thought, black socks and nothing else is kind of sexy.”
“Did you bump your head?” I asked, chuckling as I lifted each leg to pull the socks off.
“No, why?” she replied, her smile widening.
“Black socks are horrible,” I said, tossing them aside. Finally, I peeled off my t-shirt and threw it to her as she pushed her thong down. The last order of business was her hair.
“Sit,” I commanded gently, guiding her to the edge of the bed. I painstakingly removed each of the over forty bobby pins from her hair, running my fingers through her wavy tresses once they were free.
“I love your hair when it’s loose,” I murmured, brushing a strand behind her ear.
“I do, too,” she said, her voice soft and content.
“What should we do with our clothes?” I asked, glancing at the pile on the floor.
“Leave them,” she said, yawning. “I’m tired, but I need to wash my face first.”
I followed her as she padded into the bathroom, watching as surprise flickered across her face when she saw her toothbrush still in the holder, along with a few other items she’d left behind a few weeks ago. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she realized I hadn’t moved anything.
Erika washed her face, using the makeup remover I kept in the drawer of the vanity. I let her finish in peace, heading back to the bed and turning on the news. When she returned, there was a report about Foster Black.
“Shut it off,” she said, her voice sharp as she caught sight of the screen.
“Looks like Foster bought a penthouse in Manhattan,” I remarked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
“Are you worried?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.
“About what?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“That he might pursue me?” she clarified, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"He can try, but he won’t win. Our relationship is sealed. I never want to be parted from you again. One Elliott brother is enough."
“I’m sorry about Michael,” she replied softly.
“He said eventually he’ll move on. Morgan is happy, and that’s all that matters to him.”
“But I’m sure he wishes she was happy with him,” she added, her voice tinged with concern.
“Maybe one day, he will be,” I said, trying to stay optimistic.
I flipped the covers back, and Erika slipped into the bed, immediately snuggling against me. The warmth of her body against mine felt like the missing piece I’d been searching for.
“That would mean her marriage failed,” she murmured, voicing a concern we both knew was true.
“I just want Michael to be happy,” I said, my hand gently tracing circles on her back.
“And he will be, even if it’s without Morgan.”
“It’s early. What would you like to do?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“Sleep in your arms,” she replied, her voice full of longing. “I have to make up for the two weeks I missed.”
“Did you sleep well without me?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“Absolutely not,” she admitted.
“Erika, did you sleep with Foster?” The question escaped before I could stop it, and I braced myself for her answer.
“No,” she said firmly. “I thought about it, but I knew he wasn’t for me.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Did you sleep with anyone while we were apart?” she asked, her tone softening.
“No,” I replied without hesitation. “I couldn’t. I was so angry at you, but I missed you like crazy.”
“I was angry at myself,” she whispered, the guilt evident in her voice.
“I wasn’t angry enough to make a large sale,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “We should take a weekend together before the weather turns too cold.”
“I like the cold,” she countered, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Hot nights by the fireplace, sipping cocoa, and making love on the carpet.”
I chuckled at her romantic vision. “You watch too many movies, but if you remember, my parents do have a fireplace at their house.”
Erika turned in my arms to face me, her expression turning serious. “But we had a fight there, and I left.”
“I know, sweetheart. It won’t happen again. We’re in sync now,” I assured her. “Would you like to talk about the future?”
“I’d like to know your intentions,” she said, her eyes searching mine.
“You already know them,” I replied, my voice steady. “I want to marry you. I don’t care if it’s this year, next year, or two years from now, but I want it with you.”
“I’d like you to meet my brother and maybe my parents,” she said, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
“I’d like you to meet my family,” I said, my heart warming at the thought. “You know Michael, but you haven’t met my younger brother, Talon, or my parents.”
“Something else,” she added, her gaze locking onto mine. “Do you promise to be nice to Morgan?”
“I was at the wedding,” I reminded her gently. “I know she’s important to you.”
“She was totally on your side. She told me I was nuts to get involved with Foster again.”
“I have to agree,” I said with a smirk.
Erika leaned in and bit my pec, making me wince. “Don’t remind me.”
“Are you marking your territory?” I teased, enjoying her playful side.
“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling. “You’re mine as much as I’m yours.”
“I’m not disputing that fact,” I said, wrapping my arms around her more tightly.
She yawned against me and placed her head on my bicep, and I couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of contentment. Having her in my arms again, feeling her warmth and the steady rhythm of her breath, was everything I’d been longing for. I tightened my hold on her, unwilling to let go.
“He can try but he won’t win. Our relationship is sealed. I never want to be parted from you again. One Elliott brother is enough.”