by Jenni Wilder
I rolled over in bed, closed my eyes, and tried to relax. Lincoln’s kiss had gotten me all worked up and excited. I didn’t think I be able to go back to sleep. I pushed my thighs together to relieve the ache between them. I wanted him back in bed and naked. Suddenly I was excited to talk to my therapist. I wanted to get over my fear of rejection and self-doubt. I wanted to be strong and sexy and confident, and I wanted Lincoln to make me feel good.
~~~~~~~~
I woke up a while later and looked for the clock. The bedroom was full of sunlight, and I saw that it was much later than I thought I would sleep. Maybe Lincoln was right; I did need a good night’s sleep. I crawled out of Lincoln’s bed and stretched with a smile. I padded out to the kitchen in my bare feet and saw Lincoln had left my cell phone lying on the counter next to a note and a key.
“Princess, help yourself to anything in the fridge or cupboards. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Call Kennedy for a ride. Lock the door when you leave and keep the key. It’s yours. Text me when you wake up, please. X—Linc”
I picked up the key and smiled to myself. I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Rebecca asking if I was all right. I had texted her last night informing her I would not be home until this morning, but morning was almost over and Rebecca knew Lincoln had an away game this afternoon. I quickly typed out a reply to my sister to let her know I was fine and I’d be home soon.
I pondered what to send Lincoln before giggling and skipping back into the bedroom, phone in hand. I crawled back into bed and took a selfie lying in his bed and sent it to him saying, “Wish you were here.” Then I called Kennedy, and after a bit of awkwardness I agreed to let her pick me up in an hour. I quickly showered in Lincoln’s massive bathroom. He had set a towel and washcloth out for me next to where I had placed my folded clothes from yesterday, and my heart swelled when I saw his consideration.
I got dressed in what I was wearing yesterday, minus my panties. I didn’t feel clean putting on panties I had worn for a day already, so I decided to go commando until I could get home and get some fresh ones. I found a comb and attempted to detangle my hair. It smelled like Lincoln’s soap. I loved it.
I returned to the bedroom and made the bed. I was about to go find something to eat when an idea occurred to me. I pulled back the covers I had just made and laid my pink panties near the top of the bed in the middle next to Lincoln’s pillow. Pulling the covers back up and straightening the bed, I made sure the panties were covered. I felt giddy. He would get a surprise when he crawled into bed tonight.
~~~~~~~~
I sat in a cushy massaging chair. One foot was soaking in warm water while the other was being buffed and polished by a peppy redhead sitting on a stool in front of me. To my right, Kennedy was sitting in an identical chair and having cherry-red polish applied to her toenails. After Kennedy picked me up from Lincoln’s house, she insisted on taking me to a spa and salon for pedicures. I had never been to a spa this fancy before, and I had to admit—having your feet pampered was a great way to spend the day.
“Mm… this was a great idea,” I told Kennedy as I closed my eyes and laid my head back.
“Mm-hmm. My brother does have some great ideas sometimes,” Kennedy responded as she took a sip of her complimentary cappuccino.
I looked at her with confusion. “Your brother?”
Kennedy turned her head toward me. “Yeah, Linc set this up. Said I was supposed to make sure you got pampered.” She smiled at me shrewdly. “So did you want a manicure, too? Massage? Body wrap? Just say the word, and we’ll get it.”
I was once again overcome by Lincoln’s level of concern and consideration for me. I shook my head in disbelief. “That man!” I said and dug my phone out of my purse. I took a picture of Kennedy’s feet and mine and sent it to Lincoln with a heart symbol. He hadn’t replied to my text from this morning, but I could only imagine how busy he must be on game day.
Kennedy pulled her car up to the curb in front of my house. “Did you have fun?”
I smiled and nodded looking down at my fingernails. Kennedy had convinced me to get a manicure as well as the pedicure. “I did. Did you?”
“Of course! We’ll have to do it again,” she replied enthusiastically.
“Oh, I don’t want you to feel obligated to babysit me because Lincoln told you to.” I felt guilty Kennedy had spent the majority of the afternoon with me.
“I don’t think that! I enjoyed it,” she said with alarm. I smiled and nodded. Years of not having anyone want to spend time with me other than my family still made me doubt. “Okay, well, you have a nice evening, and I’ll see you Friday night!”
“You will?” I asked with confusion.
“Yeah! It’s Lincoln’s birthday. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No. He didn’t,” I said, feeling slightly rejected. Why had he not told me about his birthday? Maybe he didn’t want me there.
“He probably forgot to mention it. We just planned it yesterday,” Kennedy said, clearly able to see my unease.
Lincoln and I had been together for most of the evening yesterday, and he hadn’t mentioned it.
“Well, he has an early evening home game on Friday and then we’re having a small group of people over at his place. I’m sure he’ll tell you about it the next time you talk to him. You should bring your sister. It’s going to be fun!”
“Can I bring anything or help with something?” I asked, even though Lincoln had yet to invite me.
“Oh, no, no. Carter and I are taking care of the food and drinks. We’ll get a cake. It’s all good.”
“You sure?” I asked again.
“You just make sure your butt is there.”
I smiled shyly. “Thanks again for today, Kennedy,” I told her as I got out of her car and walked to the house, checking my phone. He simply forgot to tell me about the party, I told myself. It’s not a big deal. But unease still crept into my mind, and it would stay there until Lincoln explained.
~~~~~~~~
It was late Monday evening before I got a chance to talk to Lincoln. We had exchanged a few texts during the day, but he hadn’t mentioned his birthday. I tried to pretend it wasn’t bothering me.
“What’s the matter? You sound… distant,” Lincoln asked after we had been talking awhile.
“Mm…I just miss you,” I said, trying to hide my distress over his birthday plans.
“I miss you too, but I don’t think that’s it.”
I hesitated. I was reluctant to ask why he hadn't mention his birthday, but I knew if we were going to have any sort of relationship I needed to be honest with him. That’s what he had asked of me.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your birthday?” I said quietly into the phone. I hated sounding so needy.
“I hadn’t had a chance,” Lincoln replied simply. When I didn’t say anything in reply he figured out I needed a better answer than that. “Kenny planned it on Saturday. I just wanted to enjoy being with you Saturday night, so I didn’t mention it then, and this is the first I’ve talked to you since then.” He sounded so blasé about it.
“So you do want me there?” I asked with anxiety and doubt.
“Of course! Of course, I want you there. How could you think any different?” Lincoln asked sounding slightly angry.
I remained silent.
“Did you call your therapist today?” he asked when I didn’t reply.
His question made me feel small and meek. “You make it sound like I’m a raving lunatic or something when you say it like that.”
“You are a lunatic if you think I don’t want you here.” he answered, and I rolled my eyes.
“I made an appointment for next Tuesday at four thirty.”
“Good. Text me the address?” he asked, and I agreed. “By the way,” he added, “I love what you left in my bed.” His voice was suddenly serious and intense.
My sour mood quickly dissipated, and I smiled big into the phone. “I don’t know what you mean,” I teased. I
wasn’t used to flirting, so I covered my embarrassment with humor.
“Jillian… don’t tease. Not when we’re talking about your panties. They smelled so good, just like you. I can’t wait to find out how you taste.” He was serious. I couldn’t believe he had just said that. “I wish you were here now. I would lay you back on my bed and kiss you everywhere.” My jaw dropped open, and I couldn’t reply. “I would lick you and taste you until you came against my mouth. I would make you feel so good, Jillian. Just like you make me feel good.”
I just about dropped the phone. Words like this didn’t exist in my world. He brought out feelings I had never experienced. I closed my eyes and tried to quell my stirring emotions. I wanted that. I wanted him. I REALLY wanted him.
“Lincoln…I…” I started to say, but he interrupted me.
“It’s okay, Jillian. We’ll wait until you are ready. But you don’t have to be afraid, Princess. I’ll never leave you,” Lincoln promised me.
I was overwhelmed. Lincoln had gone from talking about my panties to telling me he would never leave me. He couldn’t possibly believe he would never leave me. It was too soon to be declaring himself like that.
For as much as I enjoyed being with Lincoln, I also knew there was a reality we were going to have to eventually face. And I knew it was a reality that could drive us apart.
“Trust me,” he whispered to me through the phone.
“Lincoln,” I started before pausing to clear my throat. “I want to. I want to trust you. And it’s not that I don’t trust you, I just…” I paused again, not sure how to finish my sentence. I did trust Lincoln, but not enough to show him my scars. Not yet.
“What is it, baby? What can I do?” Lincoln asked, practically begging me for an answer.
“There’s nothing you can do, Lincoln. I have to figure this out myself. And I will, somehow.”
He seemed to accept that. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” It was ridiculous how much I missed him already. I heard Lincoln sigh with relief and we made plans for the next day. I crawled into bed, still on the phone. “Thank you again for the spa day with your sister. I loved it.” His care and concern for me made me want to tell him I loved him, but I knew it was too soon for that.
“You deserve it. I’m glad you had a good time. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” he replied, and I smiled as emotion bubbled up inside me.
“Me neither. I’ll miss you until then.”
“I’ll miss you too, Princess. So much. But until then, me and your panties will just have to have fun without you,” he said scandalously, and I giggled.
We said good-bye and I lay in bed with a smile on my face and love in my heart. I had trouble believing Lincoln could have this depth of emotion for me. That was the main reason why, despite his care and concern and desire for me, I wasn’t sure I could trust him. How could he feel this way for me already? My feelings for him were overwhelming; perhaps that was how he was feeling too. Was it so hard to believe that he could feel the same way for me?
I reached for my phone and opened my messaging app. I had saved every text we had sent each other, and I read through them all. Every text I had received from him was filled with tenderness and concern. Just thinking about how much Lincoln seemed to care for me was deeply arousing.
Despite how handsome and muscular he was, which I did enjoy, it was his personality and affection for me that I found to be the biggest turn-on. He knew just what to say to turn my bad mood around and he seemed to be able to make me laugh no matter what we were talking about. I wanted to have faith that he wouldn’t leave me, even once he saw my scars. He told me we would take it slow. I took comfort in that and snuggled farther into bed and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Lincoln was leaning against my car when I left work the next day. I saw him from across the parking lot and tried to stop myself from running into his arms, but failed miserably. I collided against him, and we hugged and then kissed for a long moment before breaking apart. Lincoln stared down at me and pushed some hair back from my face.
“You were supposed to meet me at my house,” I said, not the least bit upset he had changed plans. He had a big goofy grin on his face that made me smile even bigger.
“I know. I just couldn’t wait to see you and Rebecca told me you didn’t have to watch Tabitha today.” Lincoln took my messenger bag filled with research books and papers from my shoulder and held it for me. That simple act alone made my heart clench and my smile get even bigger. I pulled on the front of his coat and stood up on my tiptoes. Lincoln bent down and kissed me lightly, but I was suddenly overcome by the underlying passion between us, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He moaned into my mouth and twisted both of us around so my back was against my car, and he pinned me against it with his body. I moved my hands to his face and held him close to me as we kissed passionately and I tried to control my intense feelings for him.
I was just about to pull away from him when I heard rapid clicking coming from my left. “That’s a good one, Linc! Now look over here!” a man shouted at us.
I felt Lincoln pull back from me and turn to shield me from whatever was happening on the other side of him. The rapid clicking continued as Lincoln all but threw me into the passenger side of his SUV and shut the door. I was disoriented and confused as Lincoln jumped in his side of the vehicle and hit the ignition.
I turned to look out my window and saw a man pointing a large black camera at me and smiling as he held down the shutter button.
“Put your head down!” Lincoln shouted at me, and I felt his hand push me down. I sheltered against the center console with my head against my knees, and I felt the vehicle speed away quickly.
I stayed like that until Lincoln told me I could get up. I looked at him with confusion. “What was that??” I asked him. Lincoln didn’t answer and my unease grew. That man had been taking pictures of us kissing. He must have been a tabloid journalist. But why would they care about me? Even if I was making out with celebrity hockey player in a parking lot. I didn’t understand why anyone would ever care about that.
“Fucking vultures,” Lincoln finally spat out.
“Are those—are those pictures going to be printed?”
“They’re probably already on the Internet.”
I gasped. “Why? Who would care about that?”
Lincoln didn’t answer. He reached for his Bluetooth earpiece and started talking into it, completely ignoring me. I eventually tuned him out when I realized I wasn’t going to get any answers by listening to one side of Lincoln’s conversations. I wondered where we were going. I wondered if Lincoln even knew where he was going or if he was just driving anywhere, attempting to put distance between the photographer and us. He wasn’t driving us toward my house, nor toward his.
I knew he valued his privacy, but I had never imagined that kind of intrusion. Paparazzi like that belonged in Hollywood, not in a parking lot of a research lab in Chicago. How had they found us? I realized it didn’t really matter to me how that man had found us. I just hoped Lincoln wasn’t angry with me. I had been the one who initiated the kiss that had been caught on camera. He had told me repeatedly he was concerned about his privacy. I should have had more self-restraint. I sighed and shifted in my seat, resigned to the belief Lincoln was upset with me.
Lincoln finally pulled up in front of a large brick house outside the city. He slowed down but didn’t stop until we were parked around back, hidden from view. I finally broke the silence. “Where are we?” I asked him as we sat in his SUV. He had taken off his Bluetooth and killed the engine but still hadn’t explained anything to me.
“My parents’ house,” he said simply and got out of the vehicle. I fumbled with my seatbelt and grabbed my messenger bag and purse. I looked up and sighed internally with relief when Lincoln opened my door and held his hand out for me. He couldn’t be too upset with me if he was opening my door for me. I looked at h
im with concern, and he sighed.
“Why are we here?” I continued with my questions as I took his hand and got out of the vehicle. “Are your parents here?” I asked even though he wasn’t answering my questions.
He sighed again. “No, my parents aren’t here. They’re in Washington. Kenny will be here soon, though.”
“Kennedy?” I asked, confused as we walked in the back door of the house. We had entered a huge kitchen. It had a feel of being very old, yet the appliances looked brand new. A large island counter sat in the middle of the kitchen below a hanging rack of pots and pans. The cupboard doors were glass lined with white wood trim, and the countertop looked like antique tiles but very clean. Everything looked very clean. I was afraid to touch anything.
A round, friendly-looking middle-aged woman bustled into the kitchen through a far door. “Oh Lincoln! How wonderful to see you!” she said and pulled him into a quick hug. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” She looked between Lincoln and me.
“Margie, this is Jillian. Jillian, this is Margie. Margie’s been feeding me gourmet food since I was little,” he explained with a smile.
“Nice to meet you,” I said shyly. I remembered the meals I had been so proud to make for Lincoln and thinking sadly my cooking was about as far from gourmet as you could get.
“Oh, Lincoln exaggerates. I remember more than one occasion of having to deal with your temper tantrums at the dinner table because you didn’t want to eat my ‘gourmet’ food,” she said with a laugh. “Jillian, are you hungry? Can I fix you something?” I shook my head and declined politely. Hunger was the least of my concerns right now.