Chapter 3
JULES
Holy shit. I just said that. Out loud.
My heart rate picks up at the realization that I just demanded this asshole to kiss me. Right here at a party with our closest friends standing on the other side of that wall.
Jeez-zus. Why are you so reckless, Julissa? What the hell is wrong with you? An exasperated voice scolds from inside my skull.
Oh, I have a sneaking suspicion what’s wrong with me.
I’m still pissed off at all the drama that unfolded at family dinner. I need a distraction from the fact that my trust fund is now in jeopardy and my plans for the future are hanging in the balance.
Also, it probably doesn’t help that I’ve been on a stupid dry spell for months now. The guys in this small town bore the hell out of me. I’m tired of the same old shit from the same old losers.
In the past, I’ve been willing to travel beyond the town borders on occasion just to get some wood. But with the cost of gas in this economy? Psht. I’ve recently had to limit my escapades outside of Fairy Bush.
So, there—I’m horny.
But, of all people, Lincoln Raines? I don’t know why, but that man intrigues me. He seems boring as hell himself. All business, all the time. I don’t know—maybe I’m just drawn to a challenge.
Plus, there’s also the fact that I accidentally sent him a match request on a dating app a few months ago. It was totally an accident. And the asshole had the nerve to ignore me. How dare he?!
In any case, I’m sick of the way this grouch of a man acts like I’m the scourge of the earth. When he’s not ogling me, he’s glaring at me like I’m the gum on the bottom of his dress shoe. Heck, sometimes he even manages to give me the whole scourge-of-the-earth glare while ogling me.
I have known Lincoln since I was in elementary school. But we never had any reason to be friends. In fact, I don’t think he ever even noticed me. He was three years ahead of me, after all, so I wasn’t even on his radar.
When Easton got recruited to play professional hockey right at the end of high school, the Raines family packed up their bags and rode off into the sunset.
No one even heard from them until Easton got injured last summer and returned to Fairy Bush to heal up.
Then all of a sudden the Raines boys were back, and they were everywhere.
And Lincoln Raines has been giving me the stink-eye ever since.
I can admit that he’s a good-looking fucker. All tall and growly and intense. All that thick, wavy hair, never a strand out of place. All those crisp, white, button-down shirts, even on a Saturday night. And those blue, piercing, judgmental eyes.
If we’re being honest, I’ve thought about fucking Lincoln’s brains out on many a night. Just to see that uptight stick in the mud let loose a little.
But I sure never thought I’d downright proposition the man.
The moment the words kiss me accidentally fall from my lips, Lincoln’s eyes bug out.
His mouth opens and closes several times before he finds his voice. “You really are crazy.” His eyes harden as he takes a tentative step backward.
I scare him. Good.
A laugh bubbles up. “Me? I’m crazy? You’re the one turning down an innocent little kiss while I can clearly see the broom stick hardening in your pants. That’s my definition of crazy.”
Lincoln just keeps backing up across the kitchen. “You’re a troublemaker,” he mutters.
I follow him, taking a step forward for each one he takes backward, not letting him get away that easily.
Allowing my eyes to linger on his growing erection, I continue to give him shit. It’s just too fun trying to rile him up. It’s the most excitement I’ve had in weeks. “I thought you didn’t want me, huh? Whatcha so scared of? Scared you might like it?”
I start to flash Lincoln a sexy grin, but it falls right off my face when he suddenly snaps.
He snatches my arms and yanks me into the nearby pantry. I gasp.
Before I get the chance to find my breath, Lincoln’s mouth is on mine.
My knees immediately go weak and he pushes my back against an unforgiving shelf. He kisses the hell out of me, his massive hands bracketing my waist while he presses his hard body flush against mine.
Holy Batman and Robin. Mr. Button-Up knows how to kiss. He knows how to kiss.
The man kisses like he’s starving for sex. Like he’s starving for me. There’s no hesitation. No room for doubt.
His kiss lets me know that he wants me, and that if I let him have his way with me tonight, he’ll make it worth my while.
His large palm grips the back of my neck, angling my head just so. Then he’s deepening the kiss, his tongue plunging into my mouth. My core clenches on air and my lips part on a throaty moan.
When his teeth nip at my bottom lip, I snake my hand downward. Down-down-down until I’m squeezing his hard-on.
I wasn’t exaggerating earlier. This man is hiding a goddamn broomstick in his pants. And I want to ride it like the witch he seems to think I am.
I’m too busy exploring down there, over his slacks to notice his own hand inching upward over my body.
When he squeezes my breast, I jolt and break our kiss.
Lincoln immediately yanks his hand back. “Too much?” he questions, his breath fanning over my lips.
Is it too much? I’m not sure. I can’t remember the last time a single kiss left me shaking. What is this man doing to me?
Mentally, I shrug the feeling off. Then I wag my head, guiding Lincoln’s hand back to my sensitive boobs. “No. It’s good. Don’t stop.”
I loop an arm around his neck, greedily drawing him back in.
I’m ravenous, kissing, nipping, and grabbing him all over. And even though I know he hates me, it all turns me on like nothing else ever has. I lose all sense of time, not interested in anything other than the taste of Lincoln’s tongue as our kiss intensifies in this dark hideaway.
I only sink deeper under his spell when he jams his amazingly muscular thigh between mine. Arousal rolls through me, electrifying every hair follicle. I’m shamelessly rubbing myself against him. Right in my best friend’s kitchen in the middle of her housewarming party.
What the hell am I doing? a voice in my head asks. Whatever. I’m not answering that.
Somewhere outside the pantry door, I hear voices. My heart leaps into my throat. Panting, Lincoln leans back, breaking the kiss.
“I’m sure you could grab some clean clothes from your brother’s closet,” a woman’s voice suggests. “Easton wouldn’t mind, would he?”
“Jeez. It’s just a little vodka,” a male voice responds. “I don’t need a change of clothes just because I spilled a little vodka on my shirt.”
“You’re completely drenched. Would you go find a clean shirt before you end up catching pneumonia or something?”
“You sound ridiculous. That’s not how pneumonia works.” The man says. He’s trying to sound annoyed but the amusement in his voice is clear. “Admit it. You’re just trying to get me to take off my shirt.”
The woman erupts into chortles. “I have enough trauma to last a lifetime, Oliver Raines. I don’t need to add your bushy chest hair to the list of nightmares that wake me up in the middle of the night.”
His chuckle dances on the air. “Oh, please, Chloe-licious. You’d be all over my chest hair if I let you.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she says rather unconvincingly. “You wish.”
Oliver speaks again, his voice going completely serious. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go change my shirt if you let me install those security cameras at the bar.”
“I don’t need security cameras at the bar,” Chloe protests.
“Yes, you do. You close that place up alone every weekend. With all those creepy drunks lurking around. I worry about you.”
“Don’t.”
“Chloe.”
“Oliver.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“It’s fine.”
“Look. Am I gonna have to quit my job and move to Fairy Bush to sit around and babysit you at the bar every Saturday night? Because I will.”
She stomps her foot and growls. “Ugh. Whatever. Install the damn cameras. You’ll see that it’s a waste of time.”
I hear the victorious smile in Oliver’s voice when he says, “Thank you.”
“Butthead.” I imagine Chloe sulking. “Now, lead the way to Easton’s closet.”
Oliver and Chloe continue to tease each other as their voices fade to the other side of the house. When they’re gone, Lincoln releases his firm grip on my waist. My whole body wants to cry. I immediately reel him right back in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I scold, muttering against his swollen lips.
Lincoln’s chest heaves. “This is getting a little out of control.”
I shrug, trying my best to sound confident. “You started it. And you’d better not finish it just yet.”
I plant my mouth back on his, and he doesn’t fight it. His roaming hand slips between my thighs, sending a zap of awareness to my core.
Don’t do it, Jules, that quiet, annoying voice whispers again.
If that’s my guardian angel, she’d better shut up. I’m not listening. I want Lincoln so bad.
Yet somehow, I find myself squirming away.
Lincoln’s movements freeze again. “You’re confusing me. I’m not too sure where the boundaries are here,” he says breathlessly, shaking his head.
Gosh. Why the hell am I so jumpy right now? I’m not usually like this. When it comes to hookups, I do what I want without a second thought, letting my body lead the way. So why am I second-guessing myself right now?
“No, yeah. You’re right. I want this.” I pause, looking around the dark space surrounding us. The only light is creeping in from under the crack in the door. “But I don’t think Alba would want us to finish it on top of her boxes of quick oats and easy mac.”
Lincoln clears his throat. “Should we…?”
I nod in the darkness. “What if we take this party back to my place?”
He shocks the shit out of me when he responds huskily, “Lead the way.”
My heart is beating like crazy now. We’re really doing this? I guess we’re really doing this…
I rearrange my wrinkled t-shirt and slowly crack open the pantry door, peaking out cautiously before I signal the all-clear. The last thing I want is to get caught doing the walk of shame in front of Lincoln’s mom or some of the rugrats.
Luckily, the coast is clear.
We step back out into the kitchen, blinking at the intense brightness. I start patting my body down to check my pockets.
“Shoot,” I mumble. “I misplaced my damn keys.” Again.
“Good grief. Seriously?” I hear the impatience in Lincoln’s voice. I hide a smirk. He’s as eager about us getting out of here as I am.
We hustle around the kitchen on a frantic search mission, and a minute later, Lincoln hands me my keychain.
“Oh my gosh. Thank you.” I snatch it out of his hand. “Where’d you even find this?”
“Inside the freezer, right next to the box of popsicles you gave the kids earlier.”
“Oops!” I give a cutesy grin.
He blatantly rolls his eyes at me.
Not one to be outdone, I roll my eyes right back at him.
Can’t stand the man. Wanna fuck him, though.
“Ready?” I tilt my head in the direction of the exit.
He sucks in a sharp breath and nods. “Ready.”
Together, we sneak out of the house like a couple of teenagers who are up to no good. It’s a miracle we don’t run into anyone on our way out the door.
In the front yard, I hop onto my moped, right as the headlights of Lincoln’s luxury car flick on. We speed off into the night, and I don’t have to glance in my rearview mirror to know that he’s following me.
I can practically feel his ravenous eyes on me all the way home.