“No regrets?”
“None.”
Thrilled to hear it, he planted a quick, hard kiss on her cheek. “Me, either. Get in that pool, and I’ll call for food.”
She grinned and walked outside.
The extensive menu made it too hard to be selective, and since he wanted to play around in the water with Brett, Linc ordered a little bit of everything. It would take an hour to be delivered. No problem. Plenty of nude bathing to do.
The villa provided an abundance of privacy with the high, tight, neatly trimmed shrubbery surrounding the patio, garden, and little pool, so he had no qualms jumping in with Brett, buck naked.
They laughed and played, splashed one another like they were kids again, except for the groping and kissing. And Brett couldn’t be sexier, drenched head to toe. Linc became so hot for heron, he pushed her to sit on the steps and wrap her legs around him while they made out. He’d never get enough of her thighs around his waist. Couldn’t get enough of her, period, and she didn’t seem to mind.
When they’d had enough of the pool, they showered. He sat her on the tile bench and licked her to ecstasy while the water rained over them. Seeing to her sexual desires almost eclipsed his own, obsessed with making her orgasm and hearing his name while she climaxed. Afterward, they soaped each other thoroughly and rinsed off.
Lincoln had just thrown on a fresh shirt and jeans when the doorbell rang. The courteous server greeted him and arranged their dinner on the table, complete with candlelight, before he left with a healthy tip in hand and a knowing smile.
Despite the fact Lincoln couldn’t wait to get in bed with Brett again, his stomach grumbled at the aromas coming from the silver dishes. Brett emerged fresh-faced from the bathroom, donning a robe, her damp hair combed, and a radiance about her—the breathtaking picture of a vibrant, satisfied woman.
Lincoln hoped he could keep that going long after tonight.
“Someone’s eyes are bigger than his stomach. This is way too much food for two people,” she laughed.
Lincoln had ordered a sumptuous meal consisting of salad, filet mignon, seafood, and a selection of sides. Plus two desserts, which the server had placed in the fridge to keep cool.
Lincoln shrugged. “Should I have ordered burgers and fries?”
“No way. I’ll take steak and lobster any time. We hardly ever eat food like this when we hang out.”
He took a seat across her. “I know. That’ll change. There are several restaurants and lounges I want to take you to. Places we couldn’t really go before because they were too—inappropriate for us.”
“Inappropriate?” She unfolded a napkin in her lap.
“You know, intimate. Low lighting, slow dancing. Venues where couples go,” he explained, helping himself to a pile of mashed potatoes.
“Oh.” Brett’s heart skipped a beat. Couples. She hadn’t thought that far yet. Groping for the pitcher of water, she poured a glass. “Well. We’re not that kind of…I mean, it’s not as if we have to shift things too much.” Using the tongs for some salad, she carefully avoided his studious gaze.
“All right. We don’t have to do anything lavish, of course. I just thought maybe you’d like that.”
“I would, but don’t worry about planning some special night out anytime soon.”
Regarding her strangely for a moment, he began cutting into his filet mignon without responding. She sighed inwardly with relief.
Since they were both hungry, not much was spoken other than remarking on how delicious everything—literally everything—was. Once they’d put a good dent in the portions, Lincoln wiped his hands on the cloth napkin.
“Okay, no fancy dinners, but how about a wine festival next weekend? You always want someone to go with you to those things. Now you’ve got me. We’ll take a little road trip, find a hotel. It’s only a couple hours away.”
A ball formed in the pit of her stomach. More couple-like stuff. Why did he want to make plans so soon? She wasn’t ready to talk about anything beyond the present.
Wanting to duck out of that suggestion as well, she hedged, “What about work?”
“What about it? I own the company. That usually gives me the prerogative to make my schedule, and I haven’t taken a long weekend in ages. I’m overdue.”
He did work too much, in her opinion, but she had a difficult time imagining them holding hands, sampling wine, and spending a whole weekend together. For so long, their only show of affection had been the occasional hug around the shoulders. They’d meet for beer at their favorite watering holes and split sushi rolls after seeing a new band. That’s who they were. What he described were things serious couples did.
Overwhelmed, she groped for an excuse. “You do need to take some time off, but I don’t think next weekend will work. Depends if I can make my deadline for the mag. I can’t write an authentic experience about a one-night stand now. I’ll have to do more research. Maybe run a poll on my blog.”
She’d told Lincoln she became a client for 1Night Stand in the name of work and, while she hadn’t straight-up lied, guilt punched her stomach for not revealing her true motives.
He gave a slow nod of understanding. “Of course, I understand. There will be plenty of festivals this summer.” Clearing his throat, he set his forearm on the table and leaned back. “Why don’t you want to write about tonight? I thought this was all about the article.”
Fierce heat hit her cheeks. Part of her wanted to tell him the truth, but that would open a discussion she wasn’t ready to have. “Er…obviously, if I tell what really happened, it’ll make it more of a personal piece, and all of our friends will know it was you. It’s not the one-night-only fling I expected.”
“I guess not because it’s going to turn into more than one night.” He winked.
Her fluttering heart refused to steady. Discomfited, she tucked some hair behind her ear. “And a real one-night stand is supposed to be with a stranger, so it won’t count.”
The one person she planned to share the experience with would be Tamsyn. She’d made Brett swear to call her immediately afterward with every detail. No doubt her friend would be surprised and maybe even disappointed to hear Lincoln had interfered. Their mutual friends would also eventually find out, along with family members, that she and Lincoln were no longer platonic. The inevitable “I knew it” jibes would inevitably follow. Ugh. She wasn’t in the mood for that. Not for any of it.
“Lincoln, I don’t think we should tell anyone about tonight.”
“This is between you and me. No one else.” As if he would ever kiss and tell.
Closing the robe’s lapels tighter, she squirmed and added, “I also don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other more than normal. Not until we know what we really want after all this.”
He blinked with a slight frown,. “Brett. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She forked her asparagus.
“Then why don’t you want to make plans with me?”
“I do. I just, you know, I don’t want to commit to anything right now.”
He sat back and crossed an ankle over his knee. “Why not?”
Her stomach rolled with anxiety. “What’s the rush? I don’t have any expectations beyond tomorrow, Linc. Don’t feel as though you have to woo me or anything.” Continuing to ramble and avoiding eye contact, she said, “The way I see it, we don’t even need to become a couple. We’ll have tonight, and, later on, see how things go.” She lifted her lashes by degrees.
Tense silence enveloped the room. Lincoln studied her for a while, expression unreadable. His lips parted and he lowered his eyes. Finally raising them again, he asked, “You mean even now, after what we’ve said, after what we’ve done, you don’t expect things to change between us?”
Swallowing a hot lump, she said in a small voice, “Things have already changed, Lincoln.” She wanted him, she had him, and now she felt as though she had to keep him at arm’s length. Set her own parameters. Well, that was all she co
uld manage. Sighing, she set her fork on her plate. “It feels weird to label us as a couple, that’s all.”
The chill between them grew.
“Weird. I see. So you don’t want to talk about the future at all?”
At a loss to explain her tumultuous feelings, she shook her head, irritation bubbling.
With a reluctant nod, he rose from his seat. Regretting she’d hurt him, Brett followed him when he ventured outside. Dammit. She didn’t know what to say or do. If only she could slip into a new relationship with him without any reservations. She wanted to, so why did part of her refuse?
“Linc, this is a big change in my life. I can’t flip overnight.”
“No one’s asking you to flip.” He propped his arms on the rail, and stared straight ahead. “It’s a change for me, too, you know. You think I’m treating this lightly?”
A breeze caught her hair, and she brushed the strands from her face, choosing her words carefully. “I know you’re not. For over sixteen years we’ve been one thing. Friends. Other than that slipup in college, we haven’t come near each other. Now you want to plan weekend trips and make dates days in advance—”
He whipped around, raking a hand through his hair. “We’ve been near each other since middle school. We even went to the same college, for Christ’s sake. The more I think about it, hardly anything is changing, except we’re adding more. The friendship will be there.” Catching her hand, he tugged at it. “We’ll still hang out at our favorite haunts and crack the same jokes. Is it wrong of me to expect us to do a little more than that now?”
A little? He meant a lot more. With a relationship came adjustments, understanding, compromises…even sacrifices. She struggled with how to answer.
Shrugging, she replied, “I don’t think this is the right time to discuss the future. You might wake up tomorrow and feel differently.” When he straightened and took a deep breath, then dropped her hand as if seeking patience, she strove to make him understand. “It could happen! Maybe you’ll see this as sexual tension that had been building for too long. Maybe one night is all we’ll need, and….”
“And what?” he scoffed, leaning against the rail, crossing his arms. “We’ll forget this ever happened and go back to being friends? Come on, Brett, you mean you might wake up tomorrow and prefer to act like nothing happened. You want me, but you might not want anything to do with me in a romantic sense after we leave this suite. Is that it?”
The thought sickened and confused her. “No! I…I don’t know what I want, Lincoln. I can’t tell you how I’ll feel tomorrow or the day after.”
“Well, I know how I feel and that won’t change. I’ve craved you for years and denied it for too damn long. This”— he gestured between them—“is right. It always has been. Know what I think? That you’re afraid to trust it, which is frustrating as hell to me, since you’ve never feared much in your life so far.”
He hit home with that remark, and she had nothing to say. After a few agonizing moments, he stalked back to the room.
Tears burning, she started to go after him, then stopped, knowing she should let him go. Get her thoughts together. Hugging her middle, she went to a chaise, attempting to sort her thoughts. Her emotions.
The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her best friend, but she couldn’t pretend the thought of turning their friendship into a relationship didn’t scare her. Their friendship was uncomplicated, natural. A relationship seemed foreign. Even though Lincoln would be the same person she’d known most of her life, in some ways, he’d be someone new. His response to things would come from a lover’s point of view, not those of a guy friend.
Would he expect her to act differently? Probably not, but he would have certain expectations. He often made his concerns known about her curious nature and off-the-beaten-path adventures. She imagined he’d be even more protective if they were seriously involved.
She sighed.
Relationships meant less space for other things, too. As a writer, she had to remain flexible, for interviews, for research. How much of her did he want?
All of you.
She closed her eyes. Lincoln wasn’t the kind of man to do things half-assed. He’d trust her to contribute as much as he did, and he deserved nothing less than that.
The question remained, she thought drowsily, how much could she give?
Chapter Five
What a fool he’d been. Suggesting new things to do, different places to go, and Brett had practically argued with him about it. She’d dodged the discussion about becoming a real couple, too. Now was not the time, she claimed. But if not now, when? What was the big deal in making a few plans? She’d seemed uncomfortable, as if Linc had been talking about them moving in together or getting married.
Though, he had to admit, he wanted those things, too.
He stopped, tucked his hands in his pockets. Whoa. That thought had come way too easy.
But then, he loved her. Had thought about telling her, too, tonight, but if mentioning a wine festival put her on edge, imagine how she’d react to the L word. He understood how overwhelming the transition of going from friends to lovers could feel, but damn, they were so good at being lovers. He wiped the sweat beading on his upper lip. The mere thought made him hot.
Noticing it’d been a while since he came inside the villa alone, he ventured back to the patio to check on her. He found her sleeping on a lounge chair, head turned toward one shoulder, lips parted. All that sex and food must’ve exhausted her. Amused by the thought, he grazed his fingers over one winged brow. Well, she shouldn’t slumber under the stars. But, once asleep, it took considerable effort to wake her. Like he’d done many times, he carried her to bed and tucked her underneath the covers. She didn’t so much as whimper.
Fatigue began to creep in on him, too. He blew out the candles then glanced around. Though he’d shut his phone off, he decided it wouldn’t matter if he checked his messages now. He might as well see if someone needed him. No one did. Other than a few unimportant texts and a voicemail, nothing required immediate attention.
Sighing, he switched off the lights, undressed, and climbed into bed with Brett. He’d tried crashing on the sofa, but the length proved too short for his long legs, and the floor seemed stupid when a comfortable king-sized bed sat half-occupied. Though tempted to cuddle with her, he made sure to stay on his side and avoid physical contact.
Something he might have to get used to.
***
It took him a few moments to realize he was being touched. The pitch-black room provided no illumination save for the barest light from the lamps outside. A sensual hand caressed his torso.
He gasped awake, catapulted into desire. “Brett?”
Lips were on him, then, licking the head of his cock. Shit. Felt so good. Though he couldn’t see anything, he sure felt everything.
She took him in her mouth. God, but the woman owned him. She had to know she did. Her hot tongue trailed along his shaft, and he moaned. She sucked, twisting and working her hand on his balls while her mouth smothered his dick. Her breasts brushed his inner thigh, and he clutched at the sheet. Just when he thought he’d explode, Brett licked a trail from his cock to his chin. Her nipples grazed his stomach and pecs, and he desperately drew one into his mouth.
She arched and groaned when he glided a palm over her bare back. So smooth, so sexy.
A tearing sound filled the quiet room, and moments later she rolled a condom on his erection. Then a rational part of him broke through the haze of mad desire. He didn’t want her until he knew he had her.
“I don’t think we should,” he said, barely able to find his voice.
“Lincoln,” she whispered, poised above him. “Please. Take me.” She sank over him, her tight core gripped him, and he lost all rational thought. Unable to deny her, he gave her what she begged for.
***
Brett woke to the smell of coffee and opened her eyes. Lincoln stood nearby, dressed in jeans, a casual button-up, and a
light, trendy jacket, sipping from a mug and flipping through a newspaper.
How long had she slept in? She glanced at the clock by the bed. Nine a.m. Not long. Her mouth twisted in disappointment.
Was he so eager to leave? She’d thought they might stay in bed together, get breakfast. Had she been right all along about him changing his attitude once morning came? They were good for a late checkout, but it was clear he had no intention of taking advantage, since he’d dressed and appeared ready to go. Rising with her back to him, she reached for her robe, trying to hide the distress from her face.
“Morning,” he said.
She sent a soft, somewhat forced smile over her shoulder. “Hi.”
Retreating to the bathroom, she washed her face, brushed her hair and teeth, while deciding how to handle this morning after. Lincoln seemed cool, not awkward, which could be worse in her opinion. Coolness meant detachment. After how she’d reacted to him making future plans as a couple, she couldn’t blame him.
Walking out, she found a mug of coffee waiting for her on the table. “Thanks,” she murmured, taking a seat. Lincoln remained standing, turning the newspaper pages.
He appeared so fresh, polished, handsome. It hit her then she’d never see him the same way again. Her heart sank. She’d given him more than her body last night. So many unspoken words passed between them in that silent minute, they could’ve written a book.
After a few, excruciating moments, he folded the paper and said, “I’m gonna go.”
She swallowed hard, setting her coffee on the table. “Why?”
“I think it’s best.”
In agony, she watched him put the cup in the sink, swing his duffel bag over a shoulder, and walk to the door.
“I’ll see ya, okay?”
“Linc,” she choked out.
He stopped.
She rose, tongue-tied. Her heart hammered so loud, she thought for sure he could hear it. She didn’t want him to leave like this. When would she see or hear from him again? The fact she might not for a while filled her with despair.
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