bathroom, splash water over my face, and stare back at my reflection. I picture Lincoln’s face in my head and the way his eyes dance with light when he looks at me. Drawing in a quick breath, I shake my head. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
The doorknob twists, and I don’t need to look behind me to know who enters the bathroom as my body fills with an ache I don’t understand. He says nothing as he locks the door behind him. At first, he stands at the door without saying anything. My breathing kicks up, anticipation sending a shiver through me. I grip the sink tighter, searching in the mirror for his face to come into view. I’m offered nothing.
His chest presses against my back, my hips hitting the edge of the sink. I search for his hard eyes in the mirror, but his face is obscured into the crook of my neck. “Who’s the kid?”
I should have known he saw that. “Our dishwasher.” I arch my neck and offer more of myself to him. “Didn’t mean anything.”
Closing his eyes momentarily, he rests his forehead against the crown of my head, his words hit the back of my neck. “Did you fuck him?” His large hands span across my hips as he holds me tight against his body.
I don’t answer him. I want to see his reaction. I’m granted it with the tensing of his chest, and the thud of his heart on my shoulder blades.
When my reply doesn’t come, his hand drops between my legs. His touch comes next, hard and prodding as he pushes his hand inside my jeans, and then panties, palming my center.
With my hands on the edge of the sink, I sag against him. His jaw clenches, eyes as hard as his heart. His fingers dance along my clit, playing me to the beat he creates. Without warning, he plunges two fingers inside me. A shiver works its way up my spine. With a growl, he rips his fingers away and brings them to his nose and sniffs once. I want to cringe at the invasion, the lack of respect and trust he’s given me, but for some odd reason, I find it incredibly erotic.
“You better keep your pussy smelling like this. If I find out you’ve been fucking someone else, it’s over.”
What. The. Fuck? I’m shocked at his crassness, but then again, I’m not. Not at all.
Twisting around, I face him, threading my fingers through his hair at the back of his neck. Our eyes meet in the low light. His needy, mine… I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this or what I’m supposed to offer him.
His head dips, and his fingers work my shirt off my shoulder to reveal his mark he left. Pressing his lips to the spot, I can feel the smile in response to my sigh. Much like what happened with Kylo, Lincoln’s mouth crashes to mine. His hands cup my cheeks, holding me against his mouth.
This time, the kiss is so completely different. It’s fiery passion, urgent, desperate, unrelenting, and pumping through my veins in the sweetest temptation. The good kisses, the ones that leave you breathless and wanting more, they rip apart any preconceived notion you ever had that all of them are the same. They’re not. This kiss leaves me with a harsh reality. I’m hollow, and he’s the only one who can fill the void.
Singed by his passion, his tongue darts into my mouth, his arousal evident on my stomach. A low growl of desire from deep within his throat rumbles through him, leaving imprints on me, and I think for a moment, I’m the air he breathes. Light. Longing for existence, and momentary.
Consumed by him, I grab hold of his neck. His skin’s hot to the touch, his mouth welding to mine and coaxing an involuntary moan from me. He does this to me, makes me feel feral to the core, wild, unable to fill this hunger inside of me.
There’s a knock on the door, followed by a jiggle of the metal handle. Lincoln breaks the kiss, his head twisting to the side. “It’s occupied,” he grunts, just before devouring me with another round of kisses.
My nerves dance with anticipation of where this is going. In the back of my mind, I realize I’m at work, and as much as I want him to take me here, I can’t let that happen. Moving my hands to his chest, I push