by Amarie Avant
Lincoln holds me as we stand in a luxurious hotel room the color of beige. I fixate on a canvas painting of wild horses as the phone connects. The call to Hosea is met with bitter relief, and the echo of my voice in my ears. The instant it's over, my shoulders have slumped a few notches and I'm unable to smile to save my life.
Lincoln’s mouth presses against my collarbone. Warmth brushes over my dark brown skin as he breathes me in. “That's the scent of strength, Siobhan.”
I pull the meat of my lips into my mouth and bite on them as my gaze is swept toward the floor. “Yeah right, that’s stinky sweat.”
Lincoln doesn’t laugh at my feeble attempt of a joke. His thumb nudges my jaw, and I look up into his eyes. “You are strong.”
“I know,” I mumble, devoid of any determination.
He bends down, a smile on his chiseled face, and kisses my lips. “You truly are a strong woman. There’s no room for weak women in my life, I told you that on day one.”
Nodding, I close my eyes and listen to his deep voice, issuing motivation.
“Didn't you recall me saying as much in Monterey?”
My hand caresses Lincoln’s bristly, strong jaw. His mouth dominates over my own, and I wrap my arms around him. Beneath his cotton shirt is the raised scarring that I’ve caressed before, unable to fathom how a father could be so cruel.
Lincoln kneels. He pulls up my compressor shirt and plants a trail of love from his pleasure-seeking lips down my stomach and to the top of my shorts. He peels the stretchy material off my ass and hips one at a time. Gazing lustfully, he lingers at my ass, pawing it before helping me fully remove my runner shorts.
“I can almost fucking taste you,” his voice is heavy, sending more rain drenching from my wet pussy. Lincoln nudges his nose between the apex of my thighs.
I place my hands on my thong to assist him with our mutual goal, but he growls. The vibration waves against my clit, and I lean against the bedpost.
“Don’t fall, my love,” Lincoln laughs boisterously with his hands gripping my ass once more. He stands to his full length, and my heart clutches. The only thought roving around in my mind is how Lincoln plans to love my body, mind and soul.
“No worries, Siobhan, I plan to eat you,” Lincoln gives a cocky grin at my expense and murmurs, “Let me just fuck with that beautiful mind first.”
I gulp down a pool of saliva in my mouth. Lincoln slides his hand into my panties. His palm cups my pulsating mound. And then his fingers delve into silk curls to pursue my treasure, grazing every so softly around my clit. I twirl my hips, hoping his fingers will find solace inside of my body soon.
“You’re wetter than the ocean but I need you wetter.” Lincoln finally positions two fingers to enter me. I lean back harder against the bedpost, place one foot onto the bed and ride his fingers.
“Fuck,” I pant, getting off. This is almost perfect, except it would be ten thousand times better with his dick to ride.
“That’s right, beautiful. I wanna taste some sugar,” he says.
My cum drenches down on his fingers. Lincoln guides me back onto the bed. “Scoot up to the headboard.”
Eagerly I do as I’m told with my legs flying apart. Lincoln grabs the collar of his shirt and tugs until it rips down the middle. Shredded abdominals glistening, he jumps onto the bed. “Sit up beautiful, enjoy the show.”
I lean against a mound of pillows. My breath is hitched while watching his tongue dip out for a leisure trail over my outer shell. He savors the taste of my body. My head kisses the pillows, and I grin bright as the morning sunlight. I’m love lit and the fire is scorching my entire body. My mind solely focused on him.
This is what Lincoln does. Loves me mind, body, soul.
***
In late October, Lincoln asks me to accompany him to Fort Bragg. The two of us are such homebodies that I shrug and dress in my dingiest, distressed jeans, a camisole and blazer. With Maggie heading the company and my trust in my employees at On Demand, Lincoln and I have spent days leisurely in our home.
We arrive at the base around noon. The sun fights against a mass of white clouds. To the left of us is the office building and bunkers. There are army cadets to the opposite side.
They're in the field dressed in what I believe is their best attire since I've only been here on a few occasions and they'd be wearing approved workout attire.
“They look like they're going to the ball, Lincoln. We should have attended the one a few weeks back.” I frown, having had so much fun the first and only time we attended. It wasn't that Jeffrey Peterson still had a hold on me. With Lincoln at my side, I've worked to let go of the past. However, the event happened the day after I spent a night bawling my eyes out and reading Hosea's manuscript, entitled Devil In her Bed.
“We’ll attend the one next year, my love.” Lincoln kisses my ear, pulling me close to walk alongside him. My heart feels full with love, due to his caring and level of patience. “Let’s watch.”
I smile. He's like a little kid in a candy store while watching the squad handle their weapons. It’s a total crack up since Lincoln has his own arsenal of weapons. We saunter over, they're about twenty yards away. We stop at the edge of the grass, along with a few other bystanders and their children who have come to watch. The rifle spinning becomes enthralling.
I find myself clapping my hands next to a little kid who is cheering and pointing, while talking his dad's ear off. The sight warms my heart; I cannot wait to have Lincoln's children.
“Aww, how sweet. Lincoln, look.” Instinctively I reach out to grab his arm but my man isn't there. I look around, and then gasp. Lincoln is kneeling, in his hand is a piece of paper which he scrawled the words: “MARRY ME??”
My bottom lip drops to the ground. He gestures toward the paper and my excited words come out erratically at best. “You already proposed to me. Hello?” I flash my ring finger in Lincoln's face. I had hoped to begin planning a wedding sometime soon.
“Well, too many of my mates have made it out that I held you hostage. So I decided to do it again, which won't work if I have to force you to say yes, again!”
Tears brim in my eyes.
“Bloody hell, Siobhan. Say you'll agree to marry me again. The next time anyone asks, you had a grand proposal. Albeit, I don't want to just marry you in the future, Siobhan.”
Excitedly I cut in, “You want me to have three kids. One boy first named Landon and two girls to follow. Lincoln, you are a tyrant!” I cannot stop grinning. “Damn you, Lincoln.” I can feel people watching and smiling. Butterflies soar and tickled the inside of my tummy.
“Yeah, I want what I want. I’m a self-serving, egomaniac remember? I want you to marry me now. Today this very second.”
Yes, but my parents. “But my—“
Before I can utter my mom and dad, a familiar feminine voice from behind speaks up. “What does your heart tell you, honey?”
My fingers shake as I wipe away tears and pivot on the heels of my flats. The cadets move apart, and my eyes bug out. “Mom!”
“And dad,” my father chimes in. He's in a black tuxedo, brocade vest trimming his otherwise round belly. Mom is dressed too. A peach ball gown of the same shade as Tamara’s and my favorite cousins. My cousins and aunt and everyone near and dear to me are meandering from behind the squad.
Maggie is wearing what I assume is a bridesmaid dress too, she's grinning brightly. Her husband has his arm around her. He's wearing a simple black tux, the same as Hosea—groomsmen. Their seven-year-old daughter is at their side. Lincoln’s closest army buddies are all decked out. Lincoln's mom has stepped forward next to my own.
Hosea comes to stand beside Lincoln. “I have seconded Deon’s approval. Lincoln is a good man.”
“Cheers, mate,” Lincoln says, as they shake hands.
“I searched your Pinterest board for the style of wedding dress you prefer and found the perfect one,” Mom coaxes.
“And you know damn well I work magic when it comes
to throwing a shindig,” Tamara beams. “There will be good eats too.”
“She didn't say yes…” My nephew points out. He is ribbed in the elbow by his father.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I stop breathing for the second time. Hand to chest.
“Beautiful, the magic words…” Lincoln taps the paper in his hand.
“And again, I will marry you Lincoln. A thousand times, yes!” He bounds up, and scoops me in his arms. “I love you, Lincoln. You are a very special part of me.”
“And you my dear,” he begins, pulling me at arm’s length, “Are the only woman I want at my side for the rest of an eternity.” He pauses for a moment, gaze sweeping over me. Delicious goosebumps prickle over my body as he lovingly and lustfully drinks me in. My cheeks warm. Everyone is watching.
“Blast it!” Lincoln says, “I am the luckiest wanker to ever exist.”
James 1:2-4 Consider it pure joy, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Authors note:
Thank you so very much for reading ‘Devil In Her Bed.’ I would love to know how you felt about it in the form of a review on Amazon.
Join my Facebook group “Amarie Avant’s Aroused” for more on Lincoln and Siobhan. I’ll be introducing some new ‘hot sexy’ characters very soon. But I just had to mention, this is the first time I ever chose not to delve into the hero’s head until later on into the story. I deviated from the norm of writing about the two main love interests throughout. I hope you fell in love with Lincoln Zager, but I just had to slowly weave him in for the purpose of this book. I thought long and hard before deciding when to introduce his point of view- chapters. I wanted to, toward the middle, but the vital plot point of this story was when he’d learn Hosea Murrell hadn’t died. Damn, I felt so bad for him. After how much love and care he’d put into their relationship. So my fingers were crossed the entire time you read this book, hoping you enjoyed this romantic thriller.
***
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