And then they got caught, and word spread like wildfire at the party.
She and Lincoln didn’t talk about it afterward, other than to admit what a terrible mistake they’d made, blaming it on the alcohol. They vowed never to cross that line again.
Linc, honest to a fault, told Stacy what happened. Days later, he informed Brett they’d split. She hadn’t talked to him for over a month afterward and she’d never felt lower than during those empty weeks. Their friendship prevailed, though, and while things were a bit awkward at first, it didn’t take long for them get back to the way they were. The kiss never left her memory, and, she had to admit, every one after it paled in comparison. Even so, she’d had no intention of kissing him again. Until tonight.
At least this time they were both single. As Lincoln had said, no one would get hurt.
She glanced in the mirror and gasped. Fright-night hair. Makeup hadn’t completely worn off though, thanks to that rosewater stuff Tamsyn had spritzed on her face, claiming it would help give her a pretty glow and keep her makeup fresh. Either it really was awesome stuff, or two orgasms had given her the rosy bloom on her cheeks.
Brett peeked out of the bathroom. Lincoln had his back to her, fiddling with the Bose radio by the fireplace, so she went over to her overnight bag and snatched her brush.
As she reentered the bathroom, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yes,” she called back, flipping her hair over and brushing through it as fast as she could, a minor panic expanding in her chest. How would they feel tomorrow? Would it be awkward? God, she wished she knew so she could be prepared! They hadn’t even had sex yet. It could be a total disaster. Fooling around was one thing. Sex, quite another. What if—
Music.
She whipped her head back, listening.
A romantic, sexy contemporary tune drifted through the villa. Her heart thudded. Sometime in the very near future, she’d be making love with her best friend. Looking at her reflection, she let out a breath, running a hand from her hot cheeks, and down the shirt.
“Brett?”
She swallowed hard and pressed her palm to the flight of butterflies awakened in her stomach. With hesitant steps, she left the sanctuary of the bathroom. The bedroom lights were dimmed.
He stood waiting for her, his eyes containing a sensuous flame. He’d thrown a shirt on, but left it unbuttoned, and the sight invigorated her lust.
Desperate to fill the silence, she clasped her hands behind her back. “You got dressed.”
“Would you rather I let it all hang out?”
She giggled, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Well, yes.”
He grinned. “Feeling’s mutual.” Something intense flared between them. He offered his hand. “Come here.”
If her heart continued to thunder, she’d go into cardiac arrest in no time. Sex didn’t have to mean anything. It may or may not break their friendship, and it could become something more, but it also could end in disappointment. Ugh. She had to stop analyzing it to death. Regardless, she was there with him and tomorrow promised nothing.
She let him take her hand.
“Dance with me?” he asked.
“You wanna dance?”
Chuckling, he pulled her in, brushing his mouth along her temple. “More like shuffle side to side. What? Did you think you’d walk out, I’d grab you by the hair and mount you from behind?”
She smacked his arm and laughed. “No. It’s different, that’s all. We don’t slow dance.”
“I know. I’ve wanted to. Haven’t you?”
She hadn’t given it much thought, but, now, being in his arms, she wished they’d done it a long time ago. Pressing her cheek to his chest, she closed her eyes, secure in his warmth.
“It’s nice,” she said.
Something about the way he held her soothed the anxiety and her pulse steadied. Being with Lincoln brought the ultimate sense of contentment, safety. Some women might find that boring, but to Brett, that held more necessity than consuming passion.
Yes, before all this, she’d taken him for granted. Not every girl had a Lincoln Murrow in her life. A friend so loyal, trustworthy, and dashing, they never had to think twice about relying on him when in need. Never feared he would judge the things they said or mistakes they made.
Did he know how grateful she felt having him in her life? She wanted him to know. And more than that, she yearned to give herself to him. She’d never be more ready.
Without saying a word, she broke away, licked her lips, and unbuttoned the shirt.
Chapter Four
He stared when the shirt—his shirt—dropped and pooled around her feet. Backing up to the bed, she crooked a finger and he came toward her as if under a spell. She climbed on, rose to her knees and faced him again. He seemed unrushed, walking with stealthy grace to stop inches from her.
Taking her time admiring him, she skimmed her palms up his chest, his Adam’s apple, to splay on his face. She brought her face closer, focused on his mouth, and grazed his bottom lip with her thumb.
Like a switch had been flipped, he jerked her to him, and their mouths met in desperation. She tipped her head back while he licked her throat, trying to work his shirt off at the same time. Eager to help, she placed her hands inside, pushing it off his arms, his skin fever-hot to the touch. A sense of urgency drove her, and she fumbled with the button on his pants.
“I want you,” she whispered.
“You have me,” Lincoln said, quick to get rid of his pants and underwear.
Brett scooted to the middle of the bed against the headboard, unhooking her bra and sliding her panties off. Lincoln followed, crawling toward her with raw hunger in his eyes. He grabbed the hem of the sheet and dragged it over them while he eased between her legs.
Grasping his neck, she brought his mouth to hers, needing to taste him again. He hooked an arm around her and dragged her flat on her back. Her heart jolted with the knowledge he’d soon be inside her. Soon they would join like they never had before. Inhaling deeply, Lincoln dragged his face along her chest, taking a nipple. She bit her lip, chest heaving. He stroked her pussy, even though she was already slick beyond belief.
“I love how wet you are for me.” He captured her mouth, and she fisted the back of his hair as he swirled his tongue with hers. His restrained ardor both shocked and touched her. When he pulled back, their eyes met for a long, silent moments. A significant, unnamed connection formed; Brett couldn’t deny it.
Lincoln reached over to the nightstand for a condom. The package crinkled when he tore it open, and she kept her eyes on the ceiling while he put it on. A slight nervousness had returned...with a trace of another, powerful emotion beating a cadence in her chest. What to call it? She didn’t know.
“Brett.” Lincoln’s soft deep, voice broke her reverie and she looked at him. Tender concern filled his eyes. He brushed the back of his knuckles on her cheek—he was offering her the opportunity to stop.
That was the last thing she wanted to do. Breaking from her spell, she smiled, reassuring him. Sliding her hands from his chest to the back of his neck, she lifted her hips, molding her flesh to his. With an almost imperceptible twist of his lips, he kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, her chin, and back to her mouth.
The tip of his cock brushed her pussy, and she gasped, preparing for him to sink in with one hard thrust. Instead, he whispered soothing words; how he’d never hurt her, would always keep her safe…while inching in. Her legs shook, her hands clenched his biceps. She gaped at the size of him, stretching to accommodate. It didn’t hurt, but the anticipation killed her.
Until, at last, he plunged, drawing equal guttural groans from both of them. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, and for a second neither she nor Linc moved. After adjusting to his girth, Brett wriggled, her impatience growing to explosive proportions, needing Lincoln to drive inside her.
“Wait,” he said.
Was something wrong? God. It felt so good,
it couldn’t be.
When he started to withdraw, she opened her mouth in protest. Before she could demand he keep going, he thrust forward, and she cried his name. He did it again, rocking in and out of her.
Little by little, covered by him, filled by him, she lost pieces of her sanity. And some part of her heart she wasn’t sure she’d get back. Lincoln kissed her, his strong, hard lips covering hers, and she held him tight, giving her all.
Breaking away, he asked, “You okay?”
“Ohh. Yes.”
He rolled, pulling her on top. She began pumping her hips while he gripped her butt. The sweet, agonizing tremors of mindless arousal overwhelmed Brett. The familiar ache grew within, seeking release, an unclaimed euphoria.
He rolled again, holding her by her wrists, driving into her. She met him thrust for thrust.
“Linc,” she whispered and his dark eyes shifted to hers. She didn’t know why she said his name because she had nothing to say. Yet a part of her yearned to break free and tell him…tell him…?
He intertwined their fingers and slowed. The damp tips of his hair fell on her forehead while he pumped his hips and kissed her. She whimpered at the tenderness she received.
Freeing one hand, he grazed the edge of her breast, her ribs, and outer thigh. He cupped the back of her knee, moaning with every push into her body. She swung one leg over his shoulder.
“Damn, Brett,” he uttered.
So he likes this. A lot. She smiled while he kissed her leg, sliding his hand up her thigh, over her knee and shin.
Deep inside, a tingle started to bloom, burgeoning with promise. “Oh…yes.”
Lincoln let go of her other hand and sought her clit with the pad of his thumb. Brett cried out as he rubbed and stimulated, encouraging her to come for him. Higher and higher she rose, soaring, until nothing could be reached but the majestic void before the eruption.
“God, it feels so good,” Lincoln said, his voice strained.
Caught in a frenzied riptide of desire, she threw her head back, screamed, climaxing with seemingly endless rapture.
She’d barely quieted when Lincoln buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body tightening like a bow. She closed her eyes, waves of ecstasy ebbing away, and held on to him. Moments later, Lincoln’s climax ended with his final, hard moan.
With effort, she raised her wet lashes while the stars began to recede and her sanity returned. She and Linc both struggled for oxygen to keep up with their hammering heartbeats.
Brett didn’t protest when he pulled out and maneuvered her to half lie on him. She didn’t dare meet his gaze. Not yet. Afraid he would see more than she wanted to reveal. Sex was just sex. Unless feelings snuck their way in between the sheets.
At that moment, Lincoln thanked the universe for two things: Brett forgetting to close her email and Madame Eve granting his request. Otherwise, he would not be in this particular position. Namely, naked in bed with Brett draped over him, her head on his stomach, hair splayed all over his chest, arm thrown over his thighs, with her right leg flung over both of his. Neither of them were sleeping, but no words had been spoken for almost twenty minutes. Low music still played from the stereo and, although he and Brett were silent, her thoughts had to be as busy as his.
Linc had predicted sex with her would be good, but not that good. His expectations had been blown away. Most of the time, he’d be too preoccupied with the physical act to recognize an emotional bond, but with Brett, it’d clutched him with stunning awareness.
He loved her. Needed her.
Madame Eve’s advice rang in his head, to take the opportunity to show Brett how he felt, and he’d done that, but he also had to tell her. Before morning came. The words were on the tip of his tongue, yet it felt too soon. To tell her right after they’d had sex for the first time might be received with skepticism.
Brett pushed up, and glanced at him over her shoulder. Wow. She was so beautiful with the flush of lovemaking on her cheeks, the mussed hair falling into her eyes.
In a hoarse voice, she asked, “Thirsty?”
“I could use some water.” He shoved the sheet aside.
She grasped his forearm with a smile. “I’ll get it.” Climbing off the mattress, she went to her bag and retrieved a plain, white-ribbed tank top, slipping it over her head without a bra. He watched her walk to the mini-fridge and collect bottled waters, along with two glasses from a cabinet. Pouring water in each of them, she handed him one.
He couldn’t get a good read on her—if she appeared confused, indifferent, regretful—nothing. “Brett—”
“Do you mind if I change the music?”
With a shrug, he set his glass on the nightstand and folded his hands behind his head. “Go ahead.”
Jazz music replaced the blues, and he smiled, watching her sway her hips to the tune. His cock grew hard at the sight of her bare-ass move. He almost complained when she made her way to the bathroom, ending the show. She emerged a minute later, carrying a small bottle in her hand.
Lifting a brow, she bit her bottom lip and crawled on the bed toward him. “I have an idea.”
Whatever she had in mind, he’d enjoy it. “I’m all yours.”
Straddling him, she popped the bottle top and poured gel liquid into her palm. She placed her hands under her shirt, smearing her breasts, pinching her nipples, teasing them until the peaks puckered under the thin material. Heart hammering with rising lust, Linc licked his lips.
Then she poured more gel in her hand and smoothed it on his abdomen, working her way toward his chest, massaging it into his muscles. The icy liquid heated after a couple seconds, exciting him.
“I love touching you, Linc. You’re smooth in some places…rough in others. Hard and”—she flicked a glance at his crotch—“harder.”
His cock jumped in response.
She smothered it with the silky liquid and started to stroke. He hissed at the friction of ice, heat, and her skin then groaned loudly, without shame.
“Do you like this?”
“Do I?” he asked with incredulity.
With his cock thick and throbbing in her grip, she bent over and put it inside her shirt, between her breasts. Squeezing them, she moved forward and backward, the head of his penis peeking out of her tank top.
Linc groaned again. “Brett. You have no idea how damn sexy you are.”
She gave a throaty little laugh and straightened.
He ran his hands over her thighs and cupped her breasts. Man, he wanted to fuck. She drove him wild, sliding her silken pussy back and forth along his dick then leaning back on her hands, rubbing her cunt on him. The image of her riding him like that almost made him come on the spot, but he’d rather do that inside her.
Groping at the nightstand, he found a condom. “Doesn’t this gel stuff break rubbers?” Please, please, tell me we didn’t have to stop this and start over.
She shook her head. “Safe for condoms.”
He required no more assurances, ripping open the packaging and getting that sucker on his cock.
Sitting up, he grabbed her to him. With a gasp, she met his mouth and set her pussy on his blunt head. Locking her in, his arm at her back, he pumped and she came down. Their slick bodies merged and they moaned with equal satisfaction. Brett grasped the back of his head, diving her tongue deep in his mouth, moving her ass faster and faster.
“Fuck…yes,” he groaned, allowing himself to get lost and relish the feel of her tight sheath rubbing along his dick. Lincoln clenched her butt, thinking he should stop the rapid pace, but raw need overtook him. Sweat broke out on his forehead, his balls tightened and he gritted his teeth. The telltale throb started at the base of his cock, past the point he could control. Then the world went black and he fell over the edge. Brett kept rocking, and his orgasm went on and on.
She lay on him for a minute before rolling to her back.
It shocked him how addicted to her he’d become. I want more. A lot more. He hoped, come tomorrow, after they
checked out, they’d continue what they’d started, at his place or hers. Breathing beginning to steady, he glanced over at her. She met his gaze with wickedness in her eyes. She had to be his. Tomorrow and forever. Why not? There’d never be another for him, and she should know it.
“Hey.”
Easing to her side, she propped her hand in her hand. “What?”
“I….” He swallowed around a dry throat. She had no idea the three words he wanted to tell her. Later. They could wait. “I really like that gel,” he told her instead.
She softly laughed. “Me, too.”
“Did you request that basket, by the way?”
“No. I thought maybe you did!”
“Not me. Must be part of the 1Night Stand pleasure package.”
“Satisfaction guaranteed?” she teased.
“Guess so.” He peeled the condom off and dropped it in the wastebasket. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine o’clock.”
“How about a late dinner? I’m starving. I’ll need some sustenance if I’m going to keep up with you the rest of the night. Let’s take advantage of room service, and, while we wait, take a dip in that private pool outside. What do you think?”
She wrapped the loose sheet around her body and scooted off the bed. “You read my mind. I didn’t even eat lunch. I was so excited about the date, I had zero appetite. I mean….” Guilt crossed her features, as if she realized she’d described her anticipation of meeting a handsome stranger.
He ignored the jealousy without success and stalked over to the table. It didn’t matter. Grabbing the menu, he nodded. “Right. Time we both ate then.”
“Linc.”
“Hmm?” He flipped through the menu pages without actually reading anything.
“Look at me. Please.”
Blanking his expression, he faced her with the best nonchalant air he could manage.
Clutching the sheet to her chest, she approached. Her hazel eyes, pure and sincere, met his. “Even if tonight wasn’t what I initially thought it would be when I walked in doesn’t mean it’s not everything I dreamed of. I can’t imagine anyone else here with me.”
First and Forever Page 4