the end of the hallway, waiting to see if anyone is coming.
We’re alone, but I know it won’t last long. The base of the music pulses inside me, a competing beat to the erratic rhythm in my chest. Lincoln breathes heavily, hot pants against my needy skin. His thumb presses down on my clit, and I hear the faint clank of his belt buckle and his zipper lowering.
What the hell? Is he…. No. I wait, and he widens his stance. Oh, yep. He’s really doing that. My heart spikes like I’ve been stabbed. I freak out. “Dude! Are you…?” I pause and look over my shoulder at him. “You can’t fuck me in the hallway of the bar. I work here.”
He rests his head between my shoulder blades, panting. “You said you wanted to be possessed. What the fuck did you think that meant?”
Gasping, I attempt to turn around, but he doesn’t let me. He invades my space and corners me against the wall. “It doesn’t mean here.”
He’s breathing hard. “The bathroom then,” he snaps, motioning with a nod to the left.
“No,” I gasp shout, my hand on his chest. I give the slightest pressure to my touch, but he doesn’t budge. “We can’t do that here.”
“Fuck, fine.” He huffs, his tone irritated. “When are you off?” A lazy smile curves his lips when I look back at him. His eyes blaze with what I can only associate with lust. I gaze at his messy hair, eyes dancing with erotic thoughts I’m dying to uncover and be his victim of. The idea of him taking me against the wall unravels me. Seeing him undone, because of me, well, I toy with the idea of letting him. We could… be quick, right?
No. Not like this. Not a chance. I’m all for spontaneous, but I draw the line somewhere, right? Exactly.
Impatiently, he plants his hand on the wall behind me and then invades my space. He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “When are you off?”
Oh, damn.
Before I’m able to reply, Avie surfaces. “J!” he yells, coming around the corner. “Where are you?” He spots Lincoln, who turns quickly, his shoulder rolling against the wall, and enters the bathroom like nothing happened. Ha. Clever. And there I am left to explain why I’m red-faced and standing in the hallway.
“I was just… cleaning the bathroom,” I lie, running my sweaty palms over my jeans.
Avie frowns, his shoulder meeting the wall. “Dylan just did that an hour ago.”
“Well, she did a shitty job then because it was a mess,” I tell him as I pass. I sneak back behind the bar before he can ask any more questions.
Dylan’s there, along with Mal and Presley, all smiling at me. Mal’s the first to speak when she notices my shirt is wrinkled. “I know that look.” She snickers. “I had the same one the night I got knocked up.”
Mal can be a pain in the ass some days. “Will you stop it? I’m not getting knocked up. I was cleaning the bathroom.”
“More like cleaning his cock,” Dylan adds, watching Lincoln as he makes his way back to the end of the bar.
“You’re the worst,” I whisper.
She then turns to Mal and pretends to hump her leg. Avie watches them, shaking his head and running a hand over the back of his neck. Presley straightens her posture when she notices Avie. They exchange a look. She smiles tenderly, and he winks, returning to his office.
He winked!
Her eyes snap to mine. I grin. “Did you guys talk?” I ask, my hand on her forearm.
She blinks slowly, watching him walk away, her face lit up by neon. “No, but that’s better than him ignoring me, right?”
“I think any gesture from him is a good sign.” It’s the truth. Avie reminds me of Lincoln. You can never tell what the hell he’s thinking.
For the next twenty minutes, I attempt to busy myself with the others at the bar. Until Lincoln lifts his glass at me. Too eager, I rush toward him, my heart thudding louder than before at the simple flick of his stare to mine.
“Another?”
He nods, his stare gliding to the wall of liquor behind me. “Yeah, might as well. Looks like I’m going to be a while.”
“Last call’s at three.” I can’t hide the excitement in my voice. Jesus. Calm down. Clearing my throat, I shrug and attempt to act cool. “Not too much longer.”