12. Lincoln
LINCOLN
Daniel’s blue eyes were wide with horror as he froze against me. I stared at him in shock, the word still echoing in my ears. There was no question he’d said it—I’d felt his lips form the word in the scant air between our mouths.
I had no fucking idea what to do with this version of Daniel Hoyton. Had I managed to push him that much that he’d capitulated to me?
Something about that thought made me uncomfortable, and that meant there was only one option available to me. Goad him into action.
“You want me to shut up?” I pressed harder into him, my unwanted, inconvenient erection rubbing against his thigh. My lips skimmed his as I enunciated the words slowly and clearly so there was no mistake. “Fucking. Make. Me.”
“Fuck,” he whispered, his breath skating over my skin, and then he took my split lip between his teeth, biting down.
We both groaned, and I wasn’t sure if mine was from the pain of the bite that had fresh blood beading on my skin or from something else entirely.
I released his jaw, curving my fingers around his nape and yanking him into me. “I hate what you do to me,” he rasped, the words swallowed by my mouth as his lips connected with mine. It was hot, messy, and bloody, and I despised the way it set me alight.
Tearing myself away, my eyes met his blown pupils. “Arson. It’s fucking mutual.”
“Fuck you, Bellingham. You don’t get to call me that.” He tugged my lip between his teeth again, and I growled low in my throat. How could I explain that the nickname had just come out without thought, an apt metaphor for the fire he’d ignited that was now racing through my veins, burning me alive?
Somehow, our mouths ended up together in another, even more urgent kiss, his tongue stroking against mine. Then we were kissing harder, deeper, devouring one another in the shadows of the wall.
It didn’t feel like a kiss. Kisses were softer. More passionate. This was something different. Hungry. Unrelenting. Devastating. My cock was raging, my entire body was throbbing with need and pain, and I was going out of my fucking mind.
“Fuck,” he gasped as I went for his throat. His hands landed in my hair, jerking my head back. “We said we were gonna forget that ever happened.”
“We’ll forget it again.” I didn’t even know what I was saying.
All I knew was that my mouth needed to be on him, to punish him for making me feel this way.
As I lowered my head, he jabbed me in the side of the neck with his knuckleduster, and suddenly, we were grappling with each other again.
His metal-clad fist swung at me, but unlike our earlier fight, I could tell he wasn’t putting his full effort into it.
I easily counteracted his move, catching his fist in my grip.
We both stilled, breathing heavily, neither of us willing to back down, even now.
A yellow glow appeared in his eyes. Headlights. “Shit,” he hissed, yanking me forwards and sending us both tumbling down to the grassy verge. “Stay down.”
We pressed ourselves into the shadow of the wall as the car rumbled past, both holding our breath as the headlights swept over us. I just hoped whoever was driving wasn’t paying close attention to their surroundings.
“You need to leave. The fights are over.” Daniel jerked his head in the direction the car had come from. “It’s too dangerous to stay out here.”
That was one thing I could agree with. Climbing to my feet, I brushed myself off, thankful that the adrenaline rush of almost being caught out here with Daniel had made my erection subside.
As for why I even had one in the first place…
that was a question I didn’t have an answer to and didn’t want an answer to.
“This isn’t over,” I told him.
“It’s never going to be over,” he said, his voice low and hopeless. My gaze swung to his, taking in his dishevelled hair, reddened, swollen lips—and I didn’t want to think about why they were swollen—and his lean, muscled torso, which was littered with scratches and bruises.
Marks I’d given him.
His thoughts must have been running along the same lines as mine, because he stepped closer, lifting his hand and placing his palm over the large bruise that was developing on my side. “My marks.” His hand rose higher, his finger tracing across my split lip. I inhaled shakily. “Mine.”
“Fuck off and die,” I whispered.
“Please do,” he replied, not moving. His eyes were huge as he stared at me, his gold-tipped lashes catching the glow coming from the lights high on the wall.
His hand dropped away, and I swiped my tongue across my lips. I could still taste him there. “Hoyton…” I began, with no clue how I’d end my sentence.
“Bellingham.”
The sound of an engine shocked me out of my trance, and I jerked backwards, turning and jogging towards the uni, where I’d left my car.
Away from him.
Slumped back on my bed in my student apartment, I rubbed at my aching temples, trying to sort through the mess in my head. Perhaps writing it down would help. Look at the facts. Analyse them, as Mike did with his cases.
Swinging into a seated position, I winced as my body reminded me of everything I’d purposely put it through this evening. What a fucking night. I had nothing on the Hoyton Firm, I’d ended up at an impasse with Daniel, and all I had to show for it was a collection of marks on my body.
My dick stirred as a mental slideshow of the events of the past hour flipped through my mind, and I thumped my fist into the mattress, frustrated. There was something severely fucked up about my reaction to Daniel Hoyton.
Rising to my feet, I made my way to my desk and tapped on my laptop trackpad to get it to wake up. Sliding onto my desk chair, I opened up a new document.
My fingers flew over the keyboard as I began listing the issues I had.
1. DANIEL FUCKING HOYTON
2. OPERATION FOXGLOVE—who are they investigating?
3. DAD—wants info on the Hoytons I can feed to Mike
4. HOCKEY—need to reach the playoffs
5. KIMBERLY—thinks she’s my girlfriend
When I was finished, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the words on the screen.
Daniel needed a category all of his own, complete with subheadings, but I’d come back to him.
Hockey…that wasn’t an issue, per se, but as an integral member of the team, I needed to make sure I did everything I could to ensure we reached the playoffs.
While it wasn’t an immediate issue like the others, I wanted to have at least something on the list that made me feel a bit better about this whole shitstorm in my life.
A tangible goal I could work towards, that I didn’t have to bear alone.
There was no one safe to confide in about any of the first three issues on my list.
As for point number five… I could clear that up, right now. It was probably too late to call Kimberly—almost two in the morning, so I sent a quick text to check if she was awake. If she didn’t reply, I’d leave her a voice note.
I received a response straight away.
Kimberly:
I’m up. I was waiting for your call. You said we needed to talk
Okay. Exhaling heavily, I hit the button to video-call her, propping my phone up against my laptop screen.
Sitting up in bed, her hair cascading around her shoulders, she gave me a tired smile. “Hi.”
“Hi. How are you feeling after the fight?”
“Better. Nova didn’t… I could tell she wasn’t hitting me too hard on purpose. I’m okay, just a bit sore.”
“Good.” I rubbed the back of my neck. Fuck. Spit it out, Link. “Uh…that kiss. You know I’m not looking for a relationship, right?”
Her lip trembled minutely, but she nodded. “I’m sorry. I never should have told Cara we were together. I was, um, manifesting it for myself? We had a good night, and you stayed. You’ve never stayed before. I thought…I thought maybe you felt the same way I did.”
Bloody hell. “I need to be honest with you. You’re great…” I trailed off with a grimace, scrubbing my palm over my jaw. “But I’m not looking for anything, with anyone. I’m sorry. The truth was, I fell asleep because I was exhausted after the game and the party, and—”
“I wore you out?” she suggested, her lips kicking up.
I cleared my throat. That was a road I didn’t want to go down. “Uh, so about that kiss today.”
“I know. You don’t need to say anything. I initiated it.” She sighed. “You’re a catch, Link. You’re bloody gorgeous, you know you are, and I suppose I just let myself get caught up in a fantasy. Don’t worry, I’m okay. I’m not pining after you or anything.”
Relaxing into the chair, I gave her a small smile. “Glad to hear it. For what it’s worth, you’ll make someone a great girlfriend. And your tongue game…mmm. Whoever you end up with is gonna be a lucky man.”
She laughed, as I hoped she would, but my own smile fell away as another face appeared in my mind. A person who insisted their tongue game was unmatched.
I shut that thought down immediately, making small talk with Kimberly for a few minutes before winding up the call.
After I’d deleted her name from my list of issues, I sat staring at my screen for a long, long time.
Then I picked up my phone and blocked Daniel Hoyton from all my social media accounts.