by T. K. Leigh
“Just kiss him already!” a woman shouts over the melody.
“If you don’t, I will,” another voice calls out. I shift my eyes, shaking my head at the man toasting me with his mai tai.
Lincoln gives me a questioning look, but when I don’t do anything, he only sings louder. While Lincoln Moore has many talents, singing certainly is not one of them. But that doesn’t stop him.
As I listen to him sing the lyrics, begging me to promise to be his forever, my heart is on the brink of bursting. All I’ve ever wanted was to feel like I had value, had worth.
Maybe I do deserve the over-the-top romantic comedy ending.
Jumping off my barstool as he fumbles through the Hawaiian words, I clutch his cheeks, bringing his face toward mine. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”
His lips kicking up in the corners, he allows the microphone to fall to the table. “With pleasure.”
He yanks my body hard and firm against his as his mouth slams against mine. Thunderous applause erupts around us, but that only makes him kiss me deeper. He curves into me, dipping me slightly, his hand running along the contours of my frame as our bodies mold together. His tongue swipes against mine, exploring my mouth like it’s the first time. And that’s what this is. Our new beginning, one we both deserve.
When he slowly pulls back, I’m met with his breathtaking smile. “Did you kiss me just so I’d stop singing? Or because you want to give us another chance?”
Running my fingers through his hair, I relish in the sensation of his coarse locks, something I’ve craved so much over these past few weeks. “I never had a chance with you.”
“And I never had a chance with you.” He brings his lips back to mine.
“And I did want you to stop singing,” I add with a smile. “I think I heard a few dogs howl on the other side of the island.”
His deep chuckle echoes in the air, filling me with warmth. Before I know what’s happening, his arms snake around me and he lifts me into a cradle hold.
“Lincoln!” I playfully swat at him as he makes his way through the lounge, people clapping and cheering as the band transitions into a Hawaiian version of “Over the Rainbow”. “Put me down! I’m meeting Nora, Jeremy, and—”
“A best man who can’t keep his dick in his pants?” He arches a single brow.
I gasp, putting the pieces together. “That was you?”
“What can I say?” He stops walking as his feet hit the sand of the beach, and he slowly lowers me, yet keeps a firm hold on me. “I figured if I was going to give you the cheesy happily ever after you claim you don’t deserve, I needed backup. I was worried you wouldn’t hear me out if I just showed up, especially with the way I treated you the last time I saw you.”
“So you had my friend lie to me?” I give him a playful look of disapproval.
“It was Izzy’s idea. Anyway, I’d like to consider it more like an alternate version of the truth.” He circles his hips. “I do have trouble keeping my dick in my pants. At least when you’re around.”
I lift myself onto my toes, feathering my lips against his. “You lawyers. Always getting off on a technicality,” I murmur.
“I haven’t heard you complain.” With a wink, he pulls back. “Now, let’s go. I have plans for you.” He grips my hand and tugs me along the beach.
“And what plans are those?”
A mischievous smile builds on his mouth as his eyes darken. “To finish what we started a few weeks ago before you stood me up. Don’t think you can get off that easily.”
I come to a stop, forcing him to face me. Then I hook my arms around his neck and touch my lips to his. “With you, it’s all easy.”
He breathes into the kiss, then meets my eyes. “I love you, Chloe Davenport.”
“And I love you, Lincoln Moore.”
“Say it again.”
My lips curve as peace washes over me. “I love you.”
“God, it’s even better than I imagined it would be.”
Then he kisses me…fully, completely, madly.
The best kiss in the history of kisses. Because finally, after everything, I know I’m worth this man’s love. And there’s no better feeling in the world.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Izzy asks, scanning my apartment, the last of my items officially boxed up. This place has been home for years now, has served as a meeting spot for our little circle of friends. It’ll be a bit of a readjustment to not come home to this every day, but I now have a new place to call home.
“We’ve had some great memories in this shithole,” I agree.
Izzy laughs, squeezing my arm. “We sure have. But now you’ll make new memories. Happier memories. In an even better shithole, although I’m not so sure I’d consider Lincoln’s apartment a shithole. I’ve seen that place. It’s incredible.”
I beam, considering the road ahead. For the longest time, I never thought much about the future. Now I look forward to every day I spend with Lincoln. So much so that when the lease on my apartment was up for renewal, I didn’t hesitate when he suggested I move in with him, considering I spend every night at his place anyway.
“Well…” Izzy pulls away, her voice brightening. “I should get going.”
“Do you want to order Chinese and eat on the floor like we did when I first moved in? One last memory?”
“I wish I could, but I have plans.”
“Plans?” I tilt my head. “What kind of plans? You never have plans that don’t involve us or work.”
“I do have a life, Chloe,” she retorts, avoiding my eyes.
“No, you don’t. You’ve admitted you don’t on a regular basis.” I narrow my eyes, leaning into her. “Do you have a date?”
“Most certainly not,” she answers quickly. Too quickly, which only serves to increase my suspicions.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” I waggle my brows. “How did you meet? Is he a doctor at the hospital? Better yet, a patient whose life you saved who wants to…repay the favor? Or is it one of the guys I saw flirting with you at Evie and Julian’s wedding?”
“Chloe!” She playfully punches me. “None of the above. First of all, I don’t hook up at weddings. Second, most of the doctors I work with are married. Third, and most disturbing, I work in pediatric oncology. All my patients are minors.”
“Then you’d better tell me who you’re going out with or I’ll keep making up ridiculous scenarios. You can’t drop a bomb like that and expect me to leave it alone.” I place my hand on my hip, tapping my foot in mock irritation. “You know how I can be. Soon, Evie will call you to ask why you’ve been dating a crowned prince and never told her.”
She stares at me, then huffs out a breath. “Fine.” Her expression turns severe as she shoves a finger in my face. “But you cannot mention this to anyone. I swear to god. Not one…fucking…soul. Not even Nora or Evie.”
“Fine. You got it.” I pretend to zip my lips and throw away the key. “Sealed tighter than Fort Knox.”
She assesses me for a moment, then nods. “Okay.” She draws in a deep breath. “Jessie York is in town and asked to see me.” She cringes, stealing a glance at me to gauge my reaction.
“And you told him to go fuck himself, correct?” I place my hands on my hips, annoyed.
“Chloe…” Her tone is a cross between a warning and a plea.
“So… What? He calls and you drop everything? Need I remind you that the prick cheated on you? While you were engaged, no less.”
“Thanks for the reminder, but I was there, remember? And I’m not dropping everything for him. He said he needed to speak to me.”
I lower my voice. “Do you think he found out about Asher?”
Biting her lower lip, she slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know how. I didn’t tell him, and I doubt Asher would have said anything. Not to mention, with the way his music’s been taking off, he probably doesn’t have time to think about that night. Not with all the groupies hanging all over
him.” She averts her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
When I learned Lincoln was my professor and we could no longer be together, I struggled with the constant reminders of what I could never have. I can’t imagine how it must be for Izzy to have a front row seat to Asher’s rise to fame over these past few months. Once it was announced he was the musical genius behind Fallen Grace’s new album, he was bombarded with offers. Within months, he’d signed with a label, released a solo album of his own, and is now opening for one of the top rock bands. It’s only a matter of time until he’s headlining and selling out stadiums, too.
But despite the longing I spy in her eyes whenever Asher’s voice comes on the radio, Izzy insists it doesn’t bother her, that nothing could ever come of their one night together. Not when he’s her ex-fiancé’s older brother.
“Izzy,” I begin, about to voice my concerns.
“He said it was important.”
“And you believe him?”
“It sounds crazy, but yeah.” She shrugs. “I do. There was something in his voice that made me think he wouldn’t reach out to me after all this time unless it were.”
“I don’t like this. I don’t like him.”
“I know you don’t.” She runs her hands up and down my arms, reassuring me. “He could be full of shit, but if I don’t find out what’s going on, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. Especially if it has something to do with his family.”
As much as I don’t like the idea of her seeing that prick again, I know how she is. Izzy is one of the kindest, most sympathetic people I’ve ever met. And she was close to Jessie’s entire family, until he broke her heart. Not only did she lose him, she also lost his family.
“Want me to be your out? What time are you meeting him? I can call you after fifteen minutes to give you an excuse to leave.”
She smiles at the memory of our old ways whenever either one of us had a date. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” She wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I’m so happy for you, Chloe.”
“Thanks, Iz.”
“You bet.” We hug each other a moment longer before she drops her hold on me, then walks out of my apartment.
Once I’m alone, I turn in a slow circle, taking one last look at the place I’ve called home for the past several years. These walls have seen a lot of laughter, tears, and everything in between. It’s time I finally leave all that behind and start fresh.
“You ready?” Lincoln’s deep voice cuts through, and I spin around to see him standing in the foyer.
“Are you ready?”
“You’ve been practically living at my place these past six months anyway.” He smirks as he approaches.
“True. But now all my shoes will be at your place. You’ll—”
He covers my mouth with his, interrupting me with a kiss. “Our place, Pixie.” He holds my face in his hands, his eyes intense. “It’s our place.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
I whisper my lips against his. “So why don’t you take me back to our place so we can christen it. Then we can spend all weekend snuggled in bed and watch the snow fall.” I pull back. “Unless you have work to do.”
He slowly shakes his head. “I’m taking the weekend off. In fact, I’m taking the entire week off.”
“You are?” I cock a brow, unable to mask my surprise.
Ever since my father retired back in September and tapped Lincoln to take his place as chief general counsel, Lincoln’s been working his tail off. It doesn’t bother me, since he still makes a point to spend time together. My new position as the current affairs editor at Blush has had me working a lot, too. At least now I no longer feel like I have to work myself to the bone to get the inside scoop on celebrity gossip before anyone else. And I get to write stories with substance.
“Yup. I didn’t bring home a single file. And I spoke with Evie. She says you can take the week off, too.” A devilish glint flashes in his eyes.
“We can have a lot of fun with that much time to ourselves,” I say, recalling our time together in Hawaii.
“We sure can,” he murmurs, his lips inching even closer.
“So why don’t we go so we can get started.”
“Always so eager, Miss Davenport,” he croons in a sly voice.
“Always, Professor Moore. So take me back to your…our place.”
“I’d love to.” He abruptly pulls back. “But I have a better idea.”
I grin deviously, knowing all too well where this is heading. At least once a month, Lincoln has sent a box of panties to the office, along with a card dictating a place and time for me to meet him, usually a swanky hotel bar. It doesn’t matter that our relationship is now out in the open. We still go back to our roots, if for no other reason than to remember how far we’ve come.
“Role-play? What’ll it be tonight? I can be a sweet Midwest girl who’s never been to the big city, and you can be a mysterious stranger who will open her mind to her darkest desires.”
“Tempting, but why don’t we try something…different.”
“Different? What did you have in mind? Something kinkier? I can do that. I love the kink.”
“I know you do. But I was thinking of maybe getting away with you instead.” He licks his lips, a nervous twitch in his eye.
“Getting away?”
He smiles, pulling my body against his. “Yeah. Vegas. After all, in just a few days, we’ll be celebrating the one-year anniversary of that blackout. I thought maybe we can recreate our own little blackout.”
When his lips meet mine, I moan, the idea of getting out of Manhattan and into a warmer climate exactly what I need, even if it is to Vegas, a city I once despised. But now, I don’t mind it as much. In fact, I actually like the notion of revisiting the proverbial scene of the crime with Lincoln.
“And since I stole something of yours last time I was there, maybe I can convince you to come home with something of mine. A souvenir of sorts.”
“A souvenir? What kind of souvenir? If it’s panties, you’re only going to steal them anyway.”
“No, not panties.” He leans in for another kiss. “I want to give you my last name.”
My breath hitching, I stiffen, pressing my hand against his chest. “What did you say?”
A look of serenity washes over him. “I want to give you my last name, Chloe. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reaches toward my ear and, with a magician’s flourish, reveals a stunning round-cut solitaire, the band inlaid with diamonds. “I want to marry you.”
“How did you do that?” I breathe.
His lips curve playfully. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He winks, then his expression turns serious, his green eyes peaceful and steady. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me? Let me show you how incredible you are every day for the rest of your life?”
“In Vegas?”
“If you’d rather something else, we can do that,” he says quickly. “Whatever you want, it’s yours. If you want a huge, elaborate wedding in the Hamptons, like Evie and Julian, we can. If you want to get married on a white sand beach in Hawaii, like Nora and Jeremy, I’ll give you that, too.” He gets down on one knee, taking my hand in his and bringing the ring up to my finger. “You deserve the fairy tale. So if your fairy tale ends in walking up the aisle while wearing a train that would rival any royal wedding, that’s what you shall have.”
I stare at him, words escaping me as I wrap my head around the fact that this man is kneeling before me, begging me marry him. I was never one of those girls who envisioned her own wedding, not like Evie, Nora, and even Izzy, although she’ll never admit it. Until I met Lincoln, I didn’t think I wanted to get married. Didn’t think I deserved to find love. But he’s taught me I do deserve that happily ever after.
In one swift move, I drop to my knees. He stares at me, worry evident in his gaze. Then I smile. “You’re my fairy tale. And I can’t think of a better place
to start my life with you.”
He exhales, his muscles relaxing as he slides the ring into place. The perfect fit.
“I know Vegas is a bit…unconventional, but—”
I curve into him, pressing my lips to his. The first kiss of the rest of our lives.
“It may be unconventional, but when have we ever played by the rules… Professor?”
Thank you for reading WICKED GAMES! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you’re wondering if Izzy and Asher will ever find their happily ever after, I’m happy to announce that Dangerous Games is coming soon!
Asher York.
Talented musician.
The voice of an angel.
The body of an Adonis.
And the man I happened to have a one-night stand with in Vegas.
Pre-order today!
In the meantime, if you want another read with a forbidden romance aspect, WRITING MR. RIGHT is right up your alley. Keep reading for an excerpt! Grab your copy here.
She's a romance author who's always resisted serious relationships... But she can't resist him.
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Keep reading for a sneak peek of Writing Mr. Right.
Dangerous Games
Pre-order Izzy & Asher’s story here.
Asher York.
Talented musician.
The voice of an angel.
The body of an Adonis.
And the man I happened to have a one-night stand with in Vegas.