IF | A Novel

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IF | A Novel Page 5

by Randi Cooley Wilson

My heart sinks with sadness at the idea of him stopping. “No.”

  Exhaling with a deep rumble, he fills my mouth with his tongue and I fall into a euphoric haze as he kisses me harder and deeper. I surrender to his touch and lose the ability to think—all thoughts escape me. As his mouth devours mine, the sighs and whimpers drifting out of my lips beg and plead for more with every stroke.

  I drown in him, breathing him in.

  His leg slides between mine, pushing them apart, and his jeans brush against my core, causing me to squirm under him. Lincoln removes his hand from the back of my head and runs it down the side of my body. I arch under his touch, needing more. After a few minutes, I release his shirt and move my hands to the top of my sweatpants, lifting my hips and pushing them down as far as I can until I need my legs to do the rest of the work.

  Lucas was my first. And yet, none of his touches or kisses felt anything like this.

  Lincoln is all-consuming.

  With one touch he renders me boneless, dominating me.

  Even though I should, I don’t push him away. I don’t say no. I just want to burn in his flame. I move my hands back to his chest, but he quickly snatches them and pins them above our heads, interlacing his fingers with mine. I squeeze his hands hard when his leg moves and brushes against my clit. Everything he does feels insanely amazing.

  He moves one hand, locking it with both of mine as his other hand moves to my leg, squeezing my inner thigh hard enough to make me whimper into his kiss. I slip further into ecstasy when his finger languidly glides back and forth over the damp spot on the front of my panties, coaxing and teasing, luring me into a mindlessly numb blissful state.

  When he pulls away again, I stare into Lincoln’s stormy eyes, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into with him. He presses his thumb against the thin material over my clit and traces a lazy circle as he watches me, his lips hovering over mine.

  It’s unrushed, rendering me powerless as he savors every one of my whimpers.

  I shake under him as he watches me like he’s memorizing my responses to his touch.

  I resist rocking into him for more as his breathing becomes ragged.

  “Do you want me to make you feel good?” His husky whisper pulls me in.

  “Yes,” I hiss.

  “You’re going to have to let go of that control you love. Can you do that, Em?”

  Unable to speak, I nod, and he licks his lips, staring deep into my eyes.

  Nobody has ever looked at me like he does, like he’s claiming me.

  And I know in my heart that no one ever will.

  The muscles in his jaw jump as he slowly slides down my chest and stomach, finally stopping between my legs. His hot eyes are on me the entire time, never wavering.

  I push up on my elbows, watching as his thumbs hook into the sides of my panties and pull them off with an aching slowness that almost has me falling apart. When the black fabric clears my ankles, he throws them on the floor next to us before placing his tongue on my right leg, licking, tasting my skin. Humming the entire time he edges back up.

  When he reaches my core again, he looks up with a hunger I’ve never seen in another person. It’s crazy unnerving. All I can hear is my own heavy breathing as I watch him.

  “Lie back,” he orders.

  “What are you doing?” I pant, my nerves buzzing.

  “I want to taste you,” he growls against my leg.

  Oh god. “Wait,” I plead.

  He stills, looking at me, waiting for my permission.

  “I-I’ve never. No one has ever . . .” I trail off.

  Lincoln’s brows pull together. “You’ve never. . .” He prompts me to explain.

  “I mean, I have. Just not . . .” I motion to his mouth.

  “Oral?” he finishes.

  “Lucas doesn’t like it.” I swallow my words when I see how pissed off he looks.

  “Because it’s not about him,” he snarls. “He’s a fucking tool. Lie the fuck back, Em.”

  “Wait. We’re really doing this?” My stomach dips.

  Instead of responding, he slides his hands over my thighs as his head disappears. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in all my life than Lincoln Daniels between my legs.

  “Oh, my god,” I pant.

  Lincoln’s warm breath hits the oversensitive flesh before he drags his tongue up the length of my lips, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine. “Holy shit,” I growl.

  In response, he hums against me and I drop my head back at the sensation. Blood rushes through my veins as soon as his mouth covers me. His fingers sink into the flesh of my thighs as his tongue laps at me, causing me to release a guttural moan.

  The sensations he’s creating cause me to lose all sense of decency. My hips jerk, demanding more. It’s too much and not enough. He laces his fingers over my hips, pushing them down, holding me in place so I can’t slip away from his fierce assault.

  I want it over, and yet, at the same time, I never want it to end. He works me with his mouth, his tongue diving deep, tasting me with a hungry appreciation. I curl my fingers around his wrists and squeeze hard, writhing under his skilled movements as primal sounds fill the room. If I weren’t under the influence of his tongue, I would be mortified.

  When Lincoln trails the tip of his tongue up to my clit and teases me, I cry out so loud, I barely recognize my own voice. The muscles in my thighs tighten as he gives my clit long, circular licks full of pressure, followed by sweet, soft kisses. My head spins.

  I feel high on a rush of emotions. As he drives me to intense wetness, my legs shake and I ache with the need to come. With his tongue, Lincoln focuses on my clit as two fingers enter me, then he sucks hard, finishing me off, sending me straight over the edge.

  Everything blurs and I grip his wrists tighter as I scream out his name. I come harder than I ever have. Shivers race across my skin as tiny aftershocks run through me with each of his gentle touches as he helps guide me back down. It takes me a while to return back to reality and catch my breath.

  When Lincoln’s face appears above mine, there is a hint of cockiness in his smile that makes me almost want to smack it right off him. Instead, I start giggling and cover my face with my hands, partly in mortification at my response to his oral talents, because holy shit.

  “Hey, don’t hide from me,” he rumbles, grabbing my wrists and moving my hands so he can look me in the eyes. “Seeing you like that was fucking amazing, Em,” he rasps.

  “Really?” I ask shyly, my heart pounding so hard in my chest, I think I might die.

  He laughs, a deep reverberation that slides its way down my spine. “Really.”

  I’m still trembling under him as I catch my breath. “That was insane.”

  His eyes remain locked on mine as he drags his knuckles across the blush on my cheek.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod as I try to put together a coherent thought, but Lincoln just looks at me like I’m a brand new game he’s discovered. One that he likes playing. A lot. His eyes are dark and dangerous. My fingers run over his shoulders and down his arms.

  Right before they reach the button on his jeans, he shakes his head twice. “No.” One of his hands covers mine, stopping me. “Not tonight. That wasn’t what this was about.”

  Rejection hits me hard, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment as I look away.

  “Look at me,” he commands, and my gaze slides back to his. “It’s not that I don’t want to rip off your clothes and ravish your body in other ways. Because trust me, I want to.”

  “You do?” I whisper.

  “More than anything,” he growls. “Tonight, I want this to be just about you.”

  “Why?”

  His voice is low and direct as he looks at me with sincerity. “Anyone who refuses to take care of you, and make you feel the way I just did, with their mouth and tongue, doesn’t deserve you. Do you understand?” He stares down at me.

  Goose bumps crawl over my flesh at the
fierceness behind his words. My skin feels hot and feverish. I suck in a breath as my mind tries to catch up with my erratic pulse.

  “I understand.”

  “Good.”

  I touch each side of his face with my hands as I caress his jaw with my thumb.

  Lincoln closes his eyes and leans down, kissing the corner of my mouth.

  “Let’s get some rest,” he says quietly, settling back down on the bed.

  After covering us with blankets, he pulls me against him, tensing his arms around me.

  I nestle my face into his neck and shut my eyes, trying to savor the feeling of being in his arms like this, knowing someday all I’ll want is to live forever in this moment again.

  8

  My fingers brush over the two words written in black pen on the tiny piece of paper. I found it resting on the empty spot where Lincoln had been sleeping the night before. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. In his place was this small note that reads, what if.

  Kennison taps her pen on my book, gaining my attention. “Midterms.”

  I fold up the piece of paper and attempt to focus on studying. “I never thought I’d say this, but honestly, I’m glad to be going home for winter break,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Me too,” she sighs. “It’s been a long December. This semester was hard.”

  “In more ways than one,” I add, and chance a look at her.

  She throws me a sympathetic look. “You still haven’t heard from Lincoln?”

  I shake my head. It’s been weeks.

  “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t seen him either. Then again, since breaking up, Josh and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.” She frowns and lowers her lashes. “It hurt seeing him kissing some random girl. I mean, he was kissing her, Em. Full-on, tongue-down-throat lip sucking. In public. Near food,” she quietly shrieks.

  A few days ago, Kennison decided she didn’t really want a full-time boyfriend in college. Josh was hurt, but he understood. Then she saw him sucking faces with another girl in the dining hall, which is out of character for him. Of course, Kennison had a bad reaction to their PDA and has the visual committed to memory. Now she wants him back.

  “I know it sucks, but I have a feeling things aren’t over between you two.”

  “Well, even if it’s not, he won’t find me waiting, pining away for him. Asshat.” She sits back in her chair. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s talk about the moody, broody, smoking hottie that gets under your skin and makes you do naughty things.”

  I make a face at her description. “I don’t want to talk about Lincoln.”

  “What’s going on between the two of you, anyway?” she asks, ignoring my protest.

  I lift a shoulder and let it fall in a half-hearted shrug. “Nothing.”

  “I wouldn’t call what happened between you two nothing.”

  “One minute, I’m his sole focus. The next, I don’t exist.”

  She tilts her head to the side as she looks at me. “Why do you let him do that?”

  My grip on my pen tightens as I consider her words. I like him. It’s that simple.

  “He needs someone to depend on,” I mumble.

  “That someone doesn’t have to be you.”

  “Maybe I’m the only option he has.”

  “I just don’t want to see you get all wrapped up in this guy.”

  “Trust me. I have no intention of getting wrapped up in Lincoln Daniels.”

  The door swings open and Lincoln stares at me for a moment, surprised. He blinks at me with wide eyes, as if he can’t tell if I’m really standing in front of him or not. I don’t say anything, because I’m too busy staring at his bare chest, which has little drops of water on it. In some places, they’re crawling over his tanned skin before rolling across the muscles on his stomach and landing on the knotted towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Em?”

  “Hey,” I croak, and lift my gaze back to his.

  “Hey.”

  “Is this . . . a bad time?”

  He stares at me before it occurs to him that he’s half naked. “Sorry. I just showered.”

  I nod, suddenly feeling like I’m intruding. “I can just . . .” I motion over my shoulder with my thumb. “I can come back. Or leave.” Yes. Let me slip away in my humiliation.

  What the hell was I thinking coming here tonight?

  Lincoln shakes his head and steps back from the door, gesturing for me to enter.

  I take a few steps into his room before facing him. “Tyler let me into the suite.”

  When he closes the door, I realize that I haven’t been in here since the night we first met. It looks the same, except for the two duffel bags that it looks like he’s in the process of packing for winter break, which starts tomorrow. Guess he’s a procrastinator. Like me.

  “Packing?” I ask lamely, motioning to the bags.

  “I am. You packed yet?”

  “I am.” I shift, uncomfortable.

  “All done with finals?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I am. You done?”

  “I am.”

  Lincoln forces a smile, and I can see he’s working hard to keep the conversation light.

  A long pause stretches between us before I exhale slowly. “This was a bad idea.”

  I take a step toward the door, but he jumps in front of me, blocking my exit.

  “Don’t go,” he says, with a desperation that causes a lump to form in my throat.

  “I don’t want things to be weird between us,” I mumble.

  “They aren’t.”

  “They are.”

  “Em.”

  Slowly, I lift the folded piece of paper between us. “What does this mean?”

  Lincoln focuses on it, like he’s expecting it to explode or something.

  “For the past few weeks, I’ve been staring at it,” I admit. “Obsessing. Like a crazy person. I’ve replayed every moment of that night in my head in some lame attempt to make sense of it and what it means. We . . . and then you disappeared on me. Again.”

  My body shivers at the memory of how his touch made me feel.

  “I didn’t mean to disappear. School and baseball kept me away, and busy.”

  “I’ve been busy too, Lincoln. Obsessing over what these words mean.”

  “They mean . . .” He exhales, holding my eyes.

  “What?” I ask, irritated.

  “You’ve become a need I can’t explain.”

  My lips part and I blink at him, taking in his words. The second we met and shared the same air, I changed. I felt it deep within my soul. I guess he did too. It takes every ounce of willpower I have, but I refuse to let him off the hook with an easy explanation.

  “I need you to use more words,” I whisper.

  “I’m stuck in this place where I can’t remember my life before you. It’s only been a few months, and yet, you’re everywhere. In every thought. Every breath. I wrote that after watching you sleep all night. I kept thinking, what if?”

  “What if what?”

  He runs his hands over his face. “What if you weren’t with Lucas? What if I wasn’t so fucking broken—such a fuckup? What if . . . what if we belong together?”

  He looks away from me and searches the room until his eyes lock with mine again.

  “What if you were meant to be mine?” he finishes in a quiet tone.

  Rendered speechless, I can’t take my eyes off him or turn away. Nobody has ever said anything so incredibly beautiful, and yet, at the same time, heartbreaking to me. Ever.

  “Is that the only reason you’re here tonight? The note?”

  The small amount of space between us disappears with one tiny step I take.

  “I-I also wanted to see you again. Before we leave for break.”

  “Why?” His jaw tenses.

  “I don’t know,” I admit quietly.

  “I’m not buying it.”

  I lean back and look into his ey
es. “Because you make me feel—”

  He leans closer. “Tell me,” he orders.

  “You’ve changed something inside of me. And I-I want—”

  “What do you want, Em?”

  “You,” I manage to say. “I want you.” My voice is small and unsure, hesitant.

  My heart pounds in my chest as he looks at me with surprise, before his eyes soften. I swallow and hold my breath. Lincoln leans down, pressing his lips against mine in a delicate, slow kiss. I part my lips, letting his tongue find its way to my mouth. When it does, I sigh, finally able to breathe. After a few moments, he tries to pull away.

  I don’t let him.

  Determined, I kiss him impatiently.

  Trying to show him with my lips what I can’t say with words.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he growls against my mouth.

  “I need you to touch me,” I plead, as my lips dance with his.

  At my words, any reservations he has vanish. His mouth takes mine, harder and more eager. With one smooth move, he lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist. My fingers run down the length of his back and edge up again, settling behind his neck in a forceful grip that I’m sure will leave bruises. Lincoln clutches me tightly against him.

  His lips part and his tongue brushes mine. I release a pleasured sigh at his familiar taste. I lose myself in the feeling of my lips moving against his as he walks us backwards.

  Lincoln’s breath quickens along with mine. He groans as he pulls me against him tighter. His hands slip under my shirt, clutching my lower back as he caresses my skin.

  Something about the feel of my body pressed against his and the intensity of our kiss ignites a powerful need. One that lingers under my skin as I drown in his taste and touch.

  I tighten my grip on his neck as his fingertips caress me. His hands edge higher until he’s pulled my shirt up completely. He breaks our kiss for a second so he can yank it over my head and toss it onto the floor, then reclaims my mouth in a deep, searing move.

  My thighs tighten around him when his hands travel down my back again and slide into the gap in the back of my jeans, gripping my ass hard. I moan into his mouth, which urges him on. He spins us around, bends over, and gently lays me down on the bed.

 

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