Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was surprising how completely natural Britt felt riding shotgun next to Linc after having spent the past fifteen hours naked together.
They’d slept together for the first time, that they remembered anyway.
Still, she wasn't uncomfortable, which was confusing considering sex between them hadn’t been on her radar a month ago.
“You realize I drove to your house, right?” she pointed out.
“I could have driven my own car back home.” She had a late lunch date with the girls at one o’clock.
Skye was picking her up, so they could carpool over to Peckamoo.
Stupidest name for a restaurant ever, but they had the best chicken and burgers in town. Hell, probably in the entire state.
Linc had been very persuasive in getting her to take a shower with him this morning—best shower ever, by the way—but there was no way in hell she was showing up to lunch in clothes that had spent the night crumpled in a heap on his floor.
She’d stolen one of his KISS FM T-shirts, even though she swam in it, because it was clean and smelled like his detergent.
Lord. You’re obsessed with a laundry detergent because Linc uses it? Pathetic.
Regardless of her apparently weird soap kink, if she wore it to the restaurant with her dress from last night underneath, she may as well tattoo “we did sex” on her forehead.
She wasn’t ready to share what had happened yet.
Her feelings were jumbled enough without having to try to explain them to her friends right now.
Linc was meeting Gage at his and Emery’s place.
They didn’t live too far from her, so he was dropping her off at her house before heading over to their place.
Someone had hit Linc’s car in the Albertson’s parking lot a couple weeks back, then taken off without leaving a note.
When Linc returned with his groceries, he’d found the back bumper dented.
Gage restored cars as a hobby, so he’d offered to take a look at it to see if he could fix it. That way, Linc wouldn’t have to file a claim on his insurance because they’d definitely hike the premium if he did. You have to have insurance, but God forbid you actually use it.
“You think I’d let you drive and have time alone to second-guess everything that happened and freak out?” he asked. “Not happening.”
She smothered a grin. He knew her too well.
“Who said I’d freak out?” I’d totally freak out.
“I spent the morning with my head between your legs, Zan.”
A flash fire of crimson stained her cheeks. Linc had gone down on her, multiple times.
“Believe me, you’d overthink it and freak out.”
She couldn’t get the image out of her mind of how his dark hair had looked against her pale thighs.
Lord have mercy! Did someone suck the oxygen out of the car? She was fighting to manage more than shallow breaths. And why the hell couldn’t she swallow?
“Stop it,” Linc ordered.
“Stop…?” she croaked, pausing to clear her throat.
“Freaking out,” he continued. “You’re doing it.”
“I am not,” she argued, the denial dying on her lips when he shot her a look. “Fine. Maybe a little.”
He reached across the console to squeeze her hand. “And this is why I didn’t let you drive yourself. You’re not allowed to regret this.”
“I don’t regret it,” she said honestly. How could she regret something that had altered her reality regarding sex? She caught the corner of her mouth with her teeth before asking, “Do you?”
He whipped his head to look at her. His eyes bore into hers as he moved her hand from its resting place on her thigh to his crotch. She inhaled sharply when she felt hardness behind his zipper.
“Does it feel like I regret it?”
He’s hard? Why? We’re not doing anything.
The surprise must have shown on her face because Linc smiled. “Don’t look so shocked, Zan. Sporting a semi around you is my default.”
“But we’re not…”
“Doing anything?” he finished for her. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still you.”
That threw her for a loop.
Linc gets turned on just by being around me?
Despite being a surprise, the knowledge was empowering. She’d never felt more desired in her life.
Her hand was still in his lap. She couldn’t resist flexing her fingers, squeezing a little. She congratulated herself when he groaned. “Nope. Doesn’t feel like regret, at all.”
“You’re a brat.” Lacing his fingers through hers, he moved their hands to his leg. “And you’re going to get us killed if you keep doing that.”
She shrugged innocently. “Sorry, not sorry?”
He quirked his mouth, fighting a grin. “Brat.”
By the time they’d pulled into her driveway, Britt was strangely relaxed for someone who’d just found out she could arouse her best friend without even trying. Not two morning orgasms relaxed, but relaxed as she could be after that startling revelation.
Linc helped her out of the car, then held her hand until they reached the door, only releasing it so she could dig in her purse for her keys.
She dropped them on the ground when he kissed her neck.
When she bent to pick them up, he gripped her hips and pulled her butt against his pelvis, making her gasp.
“Stop it,” she reprimanded once she’d straightened up.
“Sorry, but when you stick your ass in the air like that, what do you expect me to do?” His smirk belied any sincerity in the apology.
“Who are you?” she asked, half-amused and half-astonished.
One night in his bed, and it was like the floodgates had opened up, changing her best friend forever.
He was still sweet and sarcastic, except now he was weaponized hot on top of it.
True, he’d always been hot, but since they’d slept together and he’d let his restraint off the leash?
She didn’t stand a chance. “And what have you done with my best friend?”
“What haven’t I done with my best friend?” he countered with a sexy smolder that made her squeeze her thighs together.
See? Weaponized hot!
She pointed a finger at him. “Behave yourself.”
“You know me better than that, Zan. When have I ever behaved?”
She puffed out a breath. “Never.”
“Exactly.” He slid a hand around the front of her hip and pulled her into him. Fingers inching toward her crotch, he added, “So why start now?”
Holy smokes! When did her best friend turn into a sex fiend? And why did it take her so long to find out?
Giggling, she pushed through the door to escape his naughty hands and halted so quickly, he bumped into her.
“Momma?”
With the practiced elegance of a debutante and the icy air of an outraged Southern mother, Lacey ignored the question, held up a piece of paper, and scowled. “Britt Amelia Callaway, what have you done?”