by Noelle Adams
THE OTHER HOTEL WAS nearby, and it took very little time for Lincoln to charm an employee into giving him the room number and then talk his way into the room.
It was clear from the state of the room that Carter had spent the night in the room—evidently with a woman—but neither was there when they got in.
So they spent the next few hours searching the casinos and restaurants.
Summer was on the edge of crying as she wandered through room after room of crowds and noise and lights and chaos. She hated casinos now more than she ever had before.
She hated that Carter was here somewhere and they couldn’t find him.
Finally, she talked to a nice middle-aged hostess who recognized the picture she showed her of Carter. The woman told her she thought he was in a small back room at an exclusive high-stakes poker game.
Naturally. Carter would be at the stupidest spot in the whole stupid place.
She texted Lincoln, who was searching another floor, saying she’d meet him there.
She got to the poker room easily, but it took a while for her to find the private back room. Lincoln had beaten her to it. He was talking to someone when she arrived, and then he came over to her with a frown.
“We can’t get in unless we’re playing. And we can’t play without fronting the required money. So we’ll probably just have to wait here until he comes out.”
“But that might be hours. How much money?”
“Ten fucking thousand.” Lincoln looked tired and bad-tempered, and his hair was a rumpled mess.
“Let’s just pay it. I really don’t want to wait for who knows how many more hours.”
Lincoln’s eyebrows shot up. “You know I’m a bartender, right? I don’t have ten K just sitting in my bank account.”
“I do. I’ll pay it.”
“But you’ll have to go through a bunch of rigmarole to get that much from your trust fund, won’t you?”
“Yeah, but I have a separate account where my salary goes in every month. I’ve never taken any out. I don’t get paid much, but after six years it adds up. I have plenty there.”
“You shouldn’t have to use that much of your money just to—”
“Stop it, Lincoln. I’m tired of waiting. I want to find him now. I’ll front the money if you’ll play the game. I’m terrible at poker, as I’m sure won’t surprise you. You can play, can’t you?”
“Yeah. I can play.” His eyes searched her face. “You sure? You might end up losing the money.”
“Yes. I’m sure. We’re doing this.” She paused. “I will be allowed in with you, won’t I?”
“Yeah. One observer is allowed.” He put a hand on the middle of her back as they moved toward the entrance of the room.
“If he’s not in this room, I’m seriously going to sit down on the floor and cry.”
Lincoln’s eyes were focused ahead of them as he murmured, “You and me both, baby. You and me both.”
After she got the required money, they were let into the private room. It was a decent-sized room—much less crowded and overwhelming than the main rooms—and it featured four round tables. At present, three different games were going on. They were obviously not games open to the public. Lincoln had had to talk his way in.
She scanned the room until her eyes landed on Carter. He looked horrible in wrinkled clothes and a weekend’s growth of beard and a debauched appearance that wasn’t at all like him.
She gripped Lincoln’s arm as he steered them toward that table.
Fortunately, there were two empty spots, so he’d be able to join Carter’s game.
They’d almost reached the table when Carter’s bleary eyes finally focused on them. His surprised and then aggrieved expression would have been amusing had they not gone through such an ordeal to find him.
“Go away,” he told them.
“We’re not going away. We’ve been looking for you for two days.” Lincoln sounded cool. Slightly annoyed. He took the empty chair beside Carter. “Deal me in.”
“Carter, please,” Summer began, a note of obvious pleading in her tone.
Carter’s eyes flashed to her and then back to Lincoln. “She can’t be here.”
She couldn’t believe this was Carter. She’d never seen him like this before. “I’m standing right here. You can talk to me and not about me.”
Carter ignored her and said to Lincoln, “She can’t be here. If she stays, I’m gone. And you won’t find me again.”
The pain in her throat was so deep she raised a hand to span the base of her neck. “Wh-what?” She gave Lincoln an agonized look, instinctively seeking help from him.
Lincoln’s features twisted briefly with something like sympathy as he stood back up and came toward her. “Why don’t you wait outside?”
“What? No! I need to talk to him. Something’s wrong. He needs—”
“I know he needs you.” He was speaking low. Just to her. His hand was on her back again—comforting rather than guiding this time. “I know something’s wrong. But if we push, we’re going to lose him. He’s going to let me stay, so let me try. You can go back to the hotel and rest.”
“No! I’m not going to the room. If I have to, I’ll wait outside. I’m not going to leave him. I’m not going to leave you.”
“Okay. Then wait outside. Find somewhere comfortable to sit. Maybe get some food. It’s going to be a while. I’ll text and let you know how things are going.”
She nodded, barely able to speak over the ache in her throat.
He cupped her face and met her eyes. “Trust me, Summer. I’ll do everything I can to bring him back to you.”
“Okay. I trust you.” She sniffed and glanced over to Carter. He’d been watching them with a tense expression, but he looked quickly away when she met his eyes. “Is he mad at me? Have I done something wrong?”
“Shit, baby. Of course you haven’t done anything wrong. I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on with him. Just give me some time.”
“Okay.” She wanted to hug Lincoln. She wanted him to hug her. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship, so she squeezed his arm instead. “I’ll leave and find somewhere to wait.”
Walking out that room was one of the hardest things she could remember, but she did it.
She didn’t have a choice.
Six
SUMMER FOUND A PLACE to sit in a large open hallway that connected different rooms of the casino together. It wasn’t exactly quiet, but it was as out of the way as she could find, and she’d have a view of Lincoln or Carter as they exited the main poker room.
She planted herself there with nothing but her phone to amuse herself. She sat. And she sat. And she sat.
For three hours she sat, until she was on the verge of either screaming or falling asleep. The only thing that kept her going was Lincoln’s texts, which came in every fifteen or twenty minutes. They were never very informative, but he’d check in with her, make sure she was okay, and let her know he was still playing poker.
It was after one in the morning when she looked fuzzily in the direction of the poker room and saw Lincoln heading in her direction.
He looked just as tired and frustrated as she felt.
She jumped to her feet and hurried over, grabbing for his arm when she reached him. “Where’s Carter?”
He shook his head. His jaw was clinched, and his forehead was damp.
“Lincoln, tell me what’s going on.”
“He’s not coming,” he gritted out. “We’ll have to try again tomorrow.”
She made a whimpering sound, but Lincoln looked so angsty—like he was holding so much emotion back—that she bit back her instinctive objection. She took his arm as he started walking, and they didn’t talk as they rode in a cab back to their hotel and returned to their rooms.
She’d unlocked her door when she finally turned to Lincoln. “What happened? Please tell me.”
“Nothing happened.” His voice was low, hushed, angry. “I sat in that fucking
chair for three hours and played round after round, and he wouldn’t talk to me. Not a single, fucking word.” The flat of his hand connected with the doorframe, and it looked like he’d been just planning to lean against it, but he hit the frame with such force it made a loud slapping sound. He removed his hand quickly and shook it like it hurt. “Damn it all.”
Summer hated to see Lincoln like that. Not just angry but on the edge of defeat. She reached up to rub his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but we did the best we could today. We’ll try again tomorrow. We’ll get through to him eventually. I know we will.”
He met her gaze with aching green eyes. “You think so?”
“Yes. I think so. Whatever’s eating at Carter isn’t going to be big enough to change who he is. He’ll come around. I know he will. We’ll try again tomorrow.” She’d been just as upset as Lincoln was earlier, but she suddenly knew the words were true as she spoke them. She believed them, and they made her feel better.
Lincoln gave a long sigh, the tension releasing from his body with his breath. He looked down at where her hand was resting on his shirt, then lifted his eyes again as he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Her heart fluttered as she held his gaze. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, press herself against him, burrow into his heat, his strength, the deep feeling she could see on his face. She licked her lips and dropped her eyes.
Lincoln cleared his throat. “Okay. I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’ll let you get to bed. And I need about an hour-long shower.”
She was turning toward the door when he added, “Oh wait. Here. This is yours.” He handed her a wad of bills.
“What is this?”
“This is your money back. That you fronted for the game. Most of it anyway.”
“You mean you didn’t lose it all?”
He chuckled. “Why do you sound so surprised? I did okay. I almost broke even. You ended up losing about three hundred bucks.”
“Just three hundred? That’s nothing. Wow. You did great.”
“Great would have been making you money.”
“I didn’t even consider that an option, so getting most of it back is amazing.” She stared down at the stack of bills. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Not just for the solid poker playing. For everything.” She reached up to touch his face before she realized it wasn’t entirely appropriate for their relationship. “Thank you, Lincoln.”
He nodded and dropped his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
She was about to stretch up and kiss him. She was seriously right on the edge. Everything inside her was screaming at her to do it, so much so that her hands were actually trembling with the effort it took to hold herself back. “Okay,” she managed to rasp. “Good night. I think I might need an hour-long shower too.”
He smiled and stepped back, making it easier for her to turn away from him, step into her hotel room, and close the door. She felt safer alone in her room, but she still wanted to kiss him just as much.
She did end up taking a long shower, cleaning herself up and then bringing herself to orgasm with her hand under the hot spray. The release helped to relax her, but it didn’t make her want Lincoln any less. As she changed into her pajamas, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She brushed her teeth. Brushed her hair. Applied moisturizer to her face and lotion to the rest of her body.
She was ready for bed. She was tired and needed sleep. But her mind was buzzing with a need that wouldn’t be denied.
Seeing Lincoln would be enough. She didn’t need to kiss him or have sex with him or anything like that. She just needed to see him once more before bed.
She knocked on the door that connected to his room.
“It’s open, Summer,” he called out. “What’s the matter?”
She opened the door. As he’d said, the one on his side was hanging open so she could walk into his room.
She found him in front of the sink, his mouth full of toothpaste and wearing a pair of pajama pants.
He obviously had recently gotten out of the shower just like her.
Giving her a questioning look, he spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth with water. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just... checking on you. You were upset earlier.” It was mostly true, and it sounded convincing.
He turned to face her, smelling clean and looking sexy as hell with his bare chest and low-riding pants. “I’m fine, Summer. Frustrated with my stubborn-ass brother, but that’s not an unusual feeling. How are you?”
She came closer until she was standing only a few inches away. “I’m okay.”
“Are you?”
“Frustrated just like you. Worried. But okay.”
His eyes were searching her face almost urgently. “Did you really come in here just to check on me?”
She swallowed hard. “Uh, no. Not just for that.”
“Then why?” His body was growing tenser. She could see it in the set of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw.
Suddenly nervous, she stared at the floor and tried to figure out what she should say.
He used one hand to tilt up her chin, so she couldn’t hide her expression with her hair. “Summer?”
She tried to control her ragged breathing until she thought of something to say. “Your shower didn’t last a whole hour. It’s just been thirty minutes.”
“I know that. Yours didn’t last an hour either.”
“I’ve never taken an hour-long shower in my life.”
“Me either.” He moved his hand slightly so he was cupping her face. “Summer, tell me what you’re doing here.”
“I... I’m not sure I know. I just wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because... because I wanted to...”
There were no words. No words but the truth, and she couldn’t get those out. But she couldn’t fight the urge anymore. It was all consuming. Unstoppable.
She reached up to grab his face and pulled his head down into a kiss.
He stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, clearly taken by surprise. But then it was like a light switch had been flicked on inside him. He grabbed for her, tangling the fingers of one hand in her hair and wrapping the other arm around her waist. His mouth started to move urgently against hers, and it wasn’t long until she felt his tongue.
It was so good—so exactly what she wanted—that she whimpered into the kiss and opened her mouth fully to his tongue. He stepped her backward until she connected with a wall, and the extra support was a relief because her knees were weak and Lincoln was all over her. His hands were moving greedily, touching her all over. He was making hungry sounds into the kiss, and they were really going to her head.
Her body throbbed with pleasure as her heart throbbed with something more, deeper.
She was dragging her fingernails down his bare back and trying to wrap one leg around him and sucking his tongue into her mouth again. She couldn’t get enough, feel enough. She wanted so much more.
“Summer, baby,” Lincoln murmured as he nibbled a line down her neck. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want... this.” She arched helplessly as her body pulsed with so much need and pleasure she could barely process it.
“But how much? How far?” He straightened up and met her gaze. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes almost wild. “I’ll stop if you want me to—at any time you want me to—but I’m on the edge here, and it would help to know if I can really let myself go.”
“You can,” she whispered, taking his head in both hands. “You can let go. I want all of it.”
He made a soft, rough groan and claimed her lips again. This time as he kissed, he gathered her up so she had to wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. He leaned over to yank the coverlet off before he lowered her onto the sheet. Then he climbed on top
of her and kissed her some more.
Despite his urgency, he didn’t rush to the main event. He kissed her for a long time, and then his mouth moved farther down her body, kissing and caressing and pulling off her pajamas until she was naked and writhing beneath him.
She couldn’t remember ever being so turned on before. The need was so strong it was almost aching. She tried to bite back the embarrassing sounds she was making, but she didn’t have much success. She gasped and whimpered and made helpless mews as he teased her breasts with his lips and teeth and stroked her inner thighs.
Before she’d found any relief, he moved back up to her mouth and kissed her deeply again. She responded. She couldn’t help but respond. But she was also rocking wantonly and trying to rub her aching arousal against one of his thighs.
“Lincoln,” she gasped at last, tearing her mouth away from the kiss.
He raised himself up slightly so he could see her face. “What, baby?”
“I’m... I’m...”
“You’re what?”
“I’m dying here! Are you torturing me on purpose?”
He choked on a laugh. “No. I’m just trying to control my impatience so I can make sure it’s good for you.”
“It’s good for me. And I really need to come.” She’d had good sex before, but she’d never been a particularly vocal person in the bedroom. She couldn’t believe she’d actually said that out loud.
He chuckled as he pressed a brief, sweet kiss on her mouth. “Then why didn’t you say so?”
She huffed and gave him an annoyed swat, but it did nothing to interfere with her arousal. She moaned long and low as he kissed his way down her body and then pulled her thighs apart to fit his head.
He held her open with his fingers and teased her clit, making her cry out at the sharp sensations. Then he sank two fingers inside her and pumped them as he continued to skillfully use his mouth.
She came in about ten seconds, arching up and clenching the sheet as the shudders ran through her. He didn’t stop. He kept up his ministrations until she came again and then again. Her releases were loud and messy and completely uninhibited, and she was limp and breathless and ridiculously pleased with herself when he finally straightened up and slid his fingers—now soaking wet—from inside her.