Path of Destruction

by Cara Dee

  He slid his gaze to mine, then offered a slow nod. Something was on his mind. "I'll be right in."

  I figured he was gonna smoke, so I headed inside and tidied up from breakfast. I had work tonight, and for once, I was happy about it. The hotel's restaurant was fully booked over the holidays, and I was hostessing tonight. It meant I'd hopefully be sufficiently distracted from thoughts about Lincoln.

  Dream on.

  After filling two mugs, I put on a fresh pot. I would have to think of something Abel could have for dinner, too. He'd be alone a couple hours after I left, and I doubted Madigan would be up to cooking when he got home.

  Turning toward the fridge, I—"Holy shit!" I stopped short, my forehead nearly smacking Lincoln in the chest. My heart started racing. Where the hell did he come from? I backed off and put a hand over my heart. "Jesus, Lincoln. You scared me."

  He merely folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the fridge. "You're wearing the T-shirt I gave you."

  Oh. "Um, yeah." I tugged it down self-consciously and stared at the floor. "I really like it." I only wished it were a size larger. Quitting drugs and not being able to afford as much salad as mac and cheese had given me a softer body.

  "For what it's worth…" He inched closer and lifted my chin. Crap, his eyes. I widened mine at the indecency in his. "It fits you fucking perfectly."

  A shudder ripped down my spine. Was he gonna kiss me? My gaze flicked to his lips, and no, he wouldn’t…right? I clenched, a ball of lust dropping to my lower body.

  "Mom!" Abel. Shit.

  Lincoln stepped away, and I hauled in a breath.

  "What is it, hon?" I croaked.

  "Can we watch a movie? I'm bored!"

  *

  I half expected Lincoln to leave. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.

  Abel put on the first Harry Potter movie in the living room, then got comfortable in the chair Madigan usually sat in. Lincoln and I sat down on the couch, and I hated him a tiny bit. I couldn’t shake the powerful surge of desire from before. It made me too aware of his every move, which weren't many at all. He was relaxed, or appeared to be, and I was stiff as a stick.

  "I thought you were tired of the first film, Abel," I commented. Anything to get Lincoln off my mind. Even if it was mindless chatter about Abel's favorite movies.

  "Lincoln hasn’t seen this one," he replied frankly and pushed play. "Can I have milk and cookies?"

  "Yes." I was out of my seat in an instant and escaped to the kitchen.

  Why would Abel go and make things worse? By including Lincoln—whose cautious smile I caught him giving my son—I only wanted more. Once upon a time, I'd been convinced I would never know the meaning of family. Morgan had proved me wrong. Now, with Lincoln and Keith, I was having useless dreams about a house full of love and laughter, like this was some fucking romantic comedy.

  Family—it always boiled down to family for me. Some knew what career paths they'd take. I knew I dreamed of a big family. But dreams were silly…right?

  Taking a batch of chocolate chip cookies from the freezer, I plated them and put them in the microwave for thirty seconds. Long enough to think of a dozen reasons not to lose myself to these stupid dreams. The first one was the most obvious. Outside of my unconventional little family and his father, Lincoln knew absolutely nobody. I didn’t count his therapists or parole officer.

  Soon, that was going to change. New Year's was only a couple days away, after which Lincoln would begin at his new job. He'd get to know new faces, maybe even gain friends, and women would definitely like what they saw. A whole new world would open up for him.

  That terrified me.

  God, I was selfish. I could already feel jealousy seeping into my core. It would burn hotter for each day that passed, for each day Lincoln slipped farther and farther away from me.

  The microwave dinged, and I brought the cookies and milk and an extra plate to the living room. Abel couldn’t have too much sugar without turning into a wrecking ball of energy, so I told him three was his limit. Lincoln could have the rest.

  The day was messing with my head. I managed to relax some and got sucked into the land of wizards and spells, only for that to be ripped away from me when Abel declared he was bored again.

  "It's important you watch all of it," he told Lincoln, fretting a bit. "I'm taking my bike out, and when I come home, we can watch the next movie. Okay?"

  I smiled at how damn adorable he was.

  Lincoln nodded dutifully. "I'll watch it, buddy."

  "Okay, good." Abel stood up and was halfway out in the hallway when I reminded him to stay in our neighborhood and the nearby dog park. He promised with a hint of frustration. I'd heard it all before. He wasn’t a little child anymore, yada, yada.

  As he put on his helmet, my nerves came rushing back. Being alone with Lincoln wasn’t safe.

  The sound of the door closing echoed louder than it was, and I automatically sat straighter and stared firmly at the TV. If I kept that up, I wouldn’t do anything wrong. I wouldn’t make anything worse.

  There was a tension in the air I wasn’t sure whether I imagined or if it was real. How could he be so chill? He finished his coffee, the muscles in his inked forearm shifting as he moved. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was watching the movie. One foot propped across his knee.

  He would always be a musician, and there was a never-ending beat some parts of their bodies moved to. Fingers drumming or feet tapping; Lincoln's foot tapped to the background music. Was he even aware?

  "Breathe, Ade."

  My head whipped in his direction. Fucker! His mouth twisted, though he didn’t look my way.

  "I'm breathing."

  He hummed. "Are you sure? I can only speak from experience. Earlier, for instance, when you came downstairs wearing those jeans that make your ass look even more irresistible, I kinda stopped breathing for a second." While that asshole spoke as if he were discussing the goddamn weather, I flushed all over. "I just heard it again. The hitch in your breath."

  "Fuck you," I whispered angrily.

  As if those were the magic words, Lincoln's amusement vanished, and before my brain could catch up, he invaded my personal space and pushed me back against the couch. No! I slapped my hands to his chest. What was wrong with me? I yearned for this; why would I fight it? I couldn’t remember.

  He hovered over me, dangerously close. I gasped as his large hand landed on my thigh and slid up to my hip. At the same time, he locked eyes with me, and I was trapped.

  "One question," he murmured huskily. "Did you pick your clothes with me in mind?"

  Stop. I swallowed thickly, wishing for any question but that one. My hands remained on his chest. In a way, they were my last defense. Except, they were betraying me. Holy crap, his chest was firm underneath his tee.

  "Ade… Why are you afraid?"

  "I'm not afraid." Maybe my rapid breathing implied otherwise. "I'm terrified." Like that.

  "Of what?"

  Wasn’t that clear? "Of us."

  Lincoln didn’t answer. His heavy gaze released me, allowing me to suck in a lungful of air, and he peered down between us. His hands left trails of fire, every spark igniting me.

  "What the…" His voice turned into gravel, and he lifted the hem of my T-shirt a couple inches. I froze at the sound of his whispered curse.

  Oh, God no. Please, no.

  He wasn’t supposed to know! There was no mistaking the meaning of the little tattoo on my hip. Others saw the silhouette of a ballerina; he saw a tiny dancer.

  The nickname he gave me ten years ago, a nickname I'd never let go of. I'd tried. I'd worked hard to become someone else, but how could I? Despite everything that was wrong with how we met, I was a person with him. He gave me an identity.

  What the fuck was happening to me? Goose bumps rose, my heart thundered, my skin flushed. Don't stare directly into the sun. I needed that mantra to make me listen, already.

  My entire being ached for him, yet
I was the damn chickenshit who had to blurt out a shaky, "Um, perhaps we should—"

  "Screw what we should." His jaw clenched, and a whimper escaped me. A beat later, his mouth covered mine.

  My resistance was pummeled to the ground by the inferno Lincoln had always personified. He lowered his body over mine with a low moan, and I became unglued. Sliding my hands up his muscled chest, I locked them around his neck and deepened the kiss. I tasted him, slipping the tip of my tongue into his mouth, and his groan shook me.

  It's not enough. Nothing ever was with him. He returned the kiss with force, the strokes of his tongue sensual and full of passion. He disarmed me as skillfully as he did a decade ago. I moaned, feeling his large hand gliding up under my T-shirt. Arching into him, I gave him all the permission he could need, and then he cupped the underside of my breast, his touches always rough and blazing hot.

  "Lincoln," I gasped.

  I stopped thinking. With a firm thrust, he let me feel his cock, and it was hard as a fucking rock. Want it, need it, give me. I fumbled with shaky fingers, moving them between us to reach his zipper.

  He cursed and pushed up my tee to expose my front. Lowering his mouth to douse the tops of my breasts in fiery, openmouthed kisses, he pushed a hand under me to unhook my bra.

  We weren't moving fast enough. I grew frustrated with desperation, but then I finally managed to unzip his pants and shove them down a bit. Seconds later, with a hand down his boxers, I wrapped my fingers around his thick cock.

  "Jesus fuck," he growled. "I won't ask, so you better be fucking sure."

  I was sure, I was sure, I couldn’t be surer. "Privacy—upstairs."

  He gave me another deep, hard kiss, and then we were moving. He hauled me off the couch and adjusted his cock, then started backing me toward the hallway. Why was he so damn tall? I fisted his shirt and pulled him down to my level. Better. I could kiss him again. I cupped his jaw, feeling his trimmed beard under my fingers. God, he tasted…good. Delicious. Were we always this good at kissing?

  I hissed when the doorframe hit my back—or the other way around—and he reached for my jeans to unzip them. The sound of the zipper being pushed down caused my core to constrict. Blood pulsed south, a rush of wetness slicked me up, and I shivered violently.

  The bastard smirked, knowing the effect he had on me, and gripped my hips tightly.

  "Don't get cocky." I tugged on his tee and pushed it up.

  When I couldn’t reach, he took over and yanked the shirt over his head. It landed…somewhere. Frankly, I didn’t care because we were kissing again, and he was pushing his tongue into my mouth where he gave me a preview of what I'd demand upstairs. Only, he'd use his cock then.

  "Don't you know me by now?" He grabbed my jaw and stole my breath with the next kiss. Slow, seductive swirls of his tongue around mine… My head swam. I didn’t even notice we'd moved a bit until I felt the familiar draft between the kitchen and the upstairs.

  He slammed me up against the nearest wall. "You make me wanna destroy you."

  I know, baby. It's what we're good at.

  There was a crash—a lamp on the hallway table. It hit the floor. Oh, fuck. I tilted my head back as he left a trail of kisses along my neck. My hands roamed his muscular torso and arms.

  "Take me," I panted.

  He hissed, hot breath on my skin.

  The moment he offered some breathing room to remove my shirt, I nudged him toward the stairs. My shirt landed on the banister. Taking the first step gave me extra height, and I threw myself at him. The kiss was wild, messy, and wet. Yesss. My pulse went through the roof as he palmed my ass roughly and let me wrap my legs around him. It brought us so close, yet nothing was close enough.

  I clung to him while he carried me up the stairs. Closer, closer, closer. I'd lost my mind. Grabbing his face, I kissed him with all the passion I had, and he groaned and paused in our ascent. My back hit another wall, and when he pushed his cock against my pussy, I kind of flailed and accidentally tore down a photo that hung on the wall.

  "Oh my God," I moaned. I couldn’t care.

  The rest was a blur. In between getting rid of all clothes, we bumped into enough walls and furniture to guarantee we'd wake up tomorrow with bruises. We landed on my bed a hot mess, all hands and mouths and bad intentions. He wanted to destroy me; I was going to let him. I was clawing at him for it.

  Ruin me.

  "Please, Lincoln," I begged.

  I nearly arched off the mattress as he slipped two fingers between the lips of my pussy. His shallow breath on my neck, his heavy cock along my thigh. He enjoyed my squirming too much. He fucking loved it when I clung to him.

  The both of us… Two insecure shitheads who treated each other like a drug. It was coming back to me. Our obsession, our addiction, the insatiable consumption. We were, and always would be, junkies.

  "You should be outlawed, baby," he whispered in my ear. Drawing out my shiver, he gave me one of his teasing, fingery fucks. He rubbed my clit slowly while pushing his middle finger inside me. "Motherfucker—I forgot how tight you were."

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Reaching for his cock, I gave him a solid squeeze and sank my teeth into his shoulder.

  He cursed viciously, out of breath, then chuckled darkly and gathered my hands above my head. "You asked for it."

  Hovering over me, he slid his cock through my wetness.

  "I begged, actually," I panted.

  I shouldn’t have begged. Blinding pain ripped me in half a moment later as he shoved his cock deep inside me. My mouth opened in a silent scream. Eyes screwed shut. The fire left me paralyzed. And yet…it was perfect. It was so perfect that tears welled up behind closed lids. Because he was finally everywhere. Over me, under me, inside me, in the air I breathed.

  The softest, shallowest fuck escaped his lips.

  Lincoln moved slowly at first. I registered brushing kisses on my skin, heard his strained breaths, then felt…everything. Under my palms, his muscles rippled with his movements. He was as flushed and feverish as I was. He kissed the corner of my mouth, testing, seeing if I was ready, coaxing me out of my immobile state, and I was more than ready. I caught his mouth with mine and gave it all.

  The pain faded.

  He threaded our fingers together above my head and fucked me. I rocked back, lifting my hips, swiveling them. He groaned into our sloppy kiss and freed one hand to feel me, touch me, play me.

  "I wanna hear it," he whispered against my lips. "What you used to call me."

  Rock star.

  It was out of my mouth in a breathless moan the second it entered my head.

  "That’s it." Resting his forehead to mine, he slipped a hand between us and began circling my clit in teasing strokes. "Christ, look at you."

  It was maddening. It contradicted the force with which he fucked me, his cock stretching me to the point where it hurt, and the gentle brushing of his finger turned me into a needy mess. More, more. It wasn’t enough. I lifted my hips to meet his every push. Harder.

  "Tell me you missed me," he murmured.

  "I missed you," I whimpered. "I missed you so much. Goddammit, Lincoln, give me more."

  "Good girl."

  He gave me more.

  It'd been too long. Too many years since I'd felt pleasure like this. The entire moment was like a long orgasm, and I didn’t know it could get better until he cranked it up. Rubbing me more persistently, he shifted a little and hit an angle where his cock sent me flying into ecstasy.

  I came with a hoarse cry and dug my fingernails into his shoulders. Maybe he'd been fighting to hold on, because it was his turn a beat later. Giving me a bruising kiss, he pulled out with a groan and stroked himself until hot ropes of his release soaked my pussy and thighs.

  Chapter 28

  Lincoln Hayes

  New Year's Eve was shaping up to be a weird night.

  I was invited over for dinner and was fully prepared to leave right after. Ade had picked up a shift that paid extra,
so she wouldn’t be here. But then Madigan asked me to stick around and shoot the shit. It wasn’t like I had any other plans, so I agreed even though I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

  Ade and I hadn't gotten the chance to fuck again, nor had we acted differently in the past two days, yet Jesse was more hostile toward me than before. He couldn’t suspect anything.

  When Ade was getting ready to leave, I took the opportunity to go out for a smoke.

  I itched for some alone time with her.

  By the time she'd reminded Abel to take his medication, told Jesse to be safe, and joked about seeing them again next year, I was halfway through my smoke and waiting for her on the porch.

  Her truck was in the driveway, so I started walking that way since it'd be out of sight in case any nosy kid was spying. Jesse had a party he was going to in a couple hours. Maybe I should talk to him first. If he thought I'd keep my mouth shut around others, he didn’t know me very well. The only one I'd be more careful with was Abel.

  "You just happened to need a cigarette?" Ade closed the door and joined me on the overgrown path to the driveway. As always when she worked at the hotel, she was dressed to kill.

  "No…" I flicked away the smoke into a pile of snow that hadn't thawed and eye-fucked her legs. "I happened to want a minute alone with you."

  She'd forgotten how blunt I was, eh? She ducked her head and fiddled with her car keys. "I get off at four…"

  Now we're talking.

  "Hey." I tugged her close and lifted her chin. "If you spend the night at my place, I can get you off, too." I dipped down and kissed her silly smirk. "The boys will be asleep, anyway."

  How could I already miss her? She knew how to occupy my brain. I kissed her slowly, only deepening it for a moment. Needing a taste, a quick fix. Shit, bad wording. Or frustratingly fitting.

  "Did you buy condoms?" she whispered.

  I nodded, stealing another kiss. "Facing your wrath once was enough."

  Exaggeration, perhaps. Some ten minutes after our fuck the other day, she'd freaked out about lack of protection. In her defense, she'd been pissed at both of us for being reckless, but shit, I'd pulled out. While not a hundred percent safe, what were the goddamn odds?