Let Freedom Ring

by Weston Parker

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. Personally, I’m pretty sure I have the better visual right now.” The jeans she had on were tighter than any outfit I’d ever seen her in, and they displayed her ass very, very nicely.

  “Quit staring at my ass,” she said jokingly, and I vaguely recalled having said something along the same lines to her when we’d been having our fight.

  I laughed, hearing her joining in before she started taking glass bottles containing herbs and spices off the shelf she’d been inspecting. Her ass was at a comfortable level for my eyes, but my gaze snagged on the ratty, soft gray material that hung just at the waistband of her jeans.

  “What shirt are you wearing, by the way?”

  Sofia looked down as if she had to double-check. “This old thing? It’s my go-to outfit when I’m going to be busy around the house all day.”

  “Usually when people say ‘this old thing,’ they mean it sarcastically. You know that, right?”

  “Yep, but I mean it for real. It’s old. I’m also not sure it’s a shirt anymore, therefore ‘thing’ seems like an appropriate term. I think it might be more like a rag with holes in the right places now.”

  “Holes in the right places?” I choked on the sip of water I’d just taken, laughing as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

  “You know what I mean.” She sighed, but her eyes glittered with her own repressed laughter. “To be fair, that did come out sounding wrong.”

  I smirked at her. “You sure? I think it might have been a Freudian slip.”

  “It wasn’t.” She narrowed her eyes but then laughed as she shook her head and went back to the bottles she’d collected. “I think this will be a good start. Pots and pans?”

  “In here.” I pulled open a heavy drawer beside the stove. “Want any help? I can run to the store if you need something too?”

  “Nah, let’s make do with what we have. It’s like a challenge in a cooking show. I’ve always wanted to take part in something like that. This is my chance.”

  “How are you always finding a silver lining in everything?” I felt my brow furrow. “Seriously, did you take a class in optimism?”

  “Nope. I’ve just always been an eternal optimist. I have to be. Otherwise, I would have broken down every time my daddy walked out the door in the mornings. Looking on the bright side and choosing optimism was a coping mechanism. Now it’s just who I am.”

  “You’re also a realist, though,” I commented. “I know you well enough to know that.”

  She shrugged. “People don’t have to fit into neat little boxes. I’m an optimist and a realist all rolled into one. Still want to know what else I noticed out there?”

  “Sure.” The woman was an enigma, but I liked that about her.

  “Mismatched couches, one medium-sized TV, a small coffee table, and a four-person dining table with chairs around it. Nothing else. Well, nothing except the photos on the walls. None of you have ever thought to add a rug or anything like that?”

  “Not really.” It wasn’t a bad idea, though. Maybe I’d get Billy and Hank one as a welcome-home gift. “Like I said, we don’t spend much time here. Even when we’re here, we’re not often here, you know?”

  “Yeah, I can imagine.”

  We lapsed into silence while she worked, defrosting the chicken and making some kind of marinade out of ingredients she salvaged after another round of scavenging.

  Sofia seemed pretty excited by the time just about every part of the counter was covered in odds and ends. Humming to herself as she cooked, I was content just watching and keeping her company.

  This was new for me. I’d never had someone care enough about me to come check up on me, and I hadn’t had anyone cook me a meal in what felt like forever.

  The chicken pasta dish she magicked up turned out to be delicious. We didn’t even bother going to sit at the table to eat. Both of us leaned with our hips against a counter and a bowl in our hands, talking while we ate and then washed up.

  “You said something about a movie earlier,” Sofia said as she wiped her hands on a dishcloth. Everything she’d used was clean and stacked in the drying rack, and all that remained of her meal was a hint of spice in the air.

  “It was on cable. It’ll be long over by now, but I’m sure we could find something else if you’re interested?”

  “Definitely.” She hung the dishcloth neatly, gave an almost imperceptible nod as she gave the kitchen a last sweeping glance, then smiled up at me. “Let’s go see what’s on.”

  We settled on the couch facing the TV, but before I reached for the remote, I turned to face her. As they had that night on the beach, my hands reached for her before I could stop them.

  Surprise crossed her expression when I touched my fingertips to her cheeks, but she kept her eyes on mine and patiently waited for what I knew I needed to say.

  “Thank you for coming here today,” I said. “Thank you for not letting me put down the phone when I told you I couldn’t talk, and thank you for cooking dinner.”

  Her lips tilted up but not into a full smile. She wound her arms around my neck and brought our heads closer together until the tips of our noses touched. “You’re welcome, Linc. Thanks for letting me be here for you.”

  Somehow, she knew that this wasn’t something I’d done before. She understood what it had taken to let her in, given the storm brewing over my life, and she was still here.

  Gratitude swelled in my chest. If I’d been alone today, God only knew what I would have ended up doing. She had made sure that I wasn’t.

  An overwhelming urge to kiss her came over me, and I didn’t bother trying to suppress it. I needed her, and not just because fucking her would be a damn good distraction.

  Chapter 22

  Sofia

  Lincoln’s lips touched mine softly, a caress more than the usual clashing of both of our desires as soon as our mouths came together. The kiss was soft and slow, tender even.

  Although it wasn’t the usual frenzied fire I was used to with him, I still liked it. A lot.

  It felt like he was giving me more of himself than he had before, like this was all of Lincoln. It was a full-body kiss that had me burning up under his hands, consuming me. Every nerve ending lit up and every cell in my body ignited.

  Our mouths moved together in an unhurried rhythm that left me breathless, and my brain melted into a puddle of girly goo. His mouth slanted over mine and his fingers tunneled into my short hair, his heavy palms settling at the nape of my neck.

  Biting gently down on my lower lip, he slid his tongue into my mouth when I gasped in surprise. My tongue welcomed his in long slow strokes, dancing across his and savoring the taste of him.

  As tender as the kiss was, it still ignited a fire in me. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel Lincoln’s lips on mine and not want more.

  While I didn’t think he’d had anything more in mind when he first kissed me, we surged toward each other now, moving closer until it would have been impossible to fit a sheet of paper between us.

  The heat and hardness of his body against mine was as electrifying as always, but the way he kissed me was different from the way he had kissed me before. He brought our mouths together over and over again, sucking at my bottom lip before he plunged his tongue into me in a way that felt possessive.

  I didn’t mind it, though. Every other kiss I’d ever felt, even those from him, paled in comparison to this one.

  I clung to him as he drank from my lips, my fingers digging into his arms and shoulders as his hands moved down to my ass.

  He lifted me against him but only to scoot us both down. Once there was enough space, he used his chest to push me down onto my back.

  A whimper escaped me as he laid me down, my pussy already growing wet and swollen. I arched my back to press my chest against his and explored the ridges of his teeth with my tongue.

  Lincoln stretched himself out on top of me, keeping the bulk of his weight off me with his elbows and knees. As his h
ips settled between mine, his rock-hard erection brushed against my stomach.

  Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, much like me with constantly having to squeeze my thighs together for the friction, he ground his length into me. A strangled growl rumbled out of him.

  The sound broke off our kiss. His breaths were hot gasps of air against my swollen lips, and his hips jerked again. “This isn’t what I wanted you to stay for.”

  I ran my fingers through his hair, my core aching and my heart thundering. “I know, but I want this too, Linc. It’s not just you.”

  Dragging my fingertips down over his temple and across the stubble on his jaw, I pressed them to his reddened lips. His eyes fell closed, and he made a soft noise before lowering his head to rest his forehead against mine.

  I felt his heart throwing itself against his ribs with as much fervor and enthusiasm as my own. Some of that anxious excitement crept into his husky voice. “So you don’t want to stop now and just find a movie to watch?”

  “We can find a movie later,” I whispered, my fingertips still skating across his handsome features. “Right now, the only movie I want is the one we’re in.”

  He rubbed his length against my core again. A wicked smirk that made those knee-weakening dimples of his pop again spread on his lips before he brought them to my ear. “This movie is about to become a porno, I think. You like those?”

  “Only if it’s got you in it.” I shivered when the tip of his tongue darted out to lick the shell of my earlobe.

  “This shirt might be comfortable, but it’s really ugly,” he breathed against my ear. Fingering the hem of said ugly shirt, he placed one of his hands behind my back and lifted himself off me so I could sit up a little. “I think it’s time we get it off you.”

  Playing along, I let him lift my shirt off and get a nice eyeful of my breasts in my too-small bra before I moved my hands to the material covering his body. Lincoln sucked in a breath as he sat back to watch me, then let out a groan when he saw how tight my nipples were.

  “Jesus. Your bra is almost as ugly as your shirt, and yet…” He lifted his hands to brush his enormous palms across my hardened peaks, causing another shiver to pass through me.

  “It’s just because you can see my boobs,” I joked. “And hey, don’t judge me. I wasn’t exactly planning on anyone other than me seeing my bra today.”

  “I’m not judging,” he groaned. “I’m not complaining either.”

  While his hands occupied themselves by getting rid of the bra, I used his distraction to get rid of his shirt.

  Both our shirts heaped on the floor next to the couch. His gaze dropped lower then, and I was suddenly aware of the muffin top splayed over the top of my jeans.

  Lincoln didn’t pay even a little bit of attention to it, though. It was like he didn’t even realize it was there. He flicked the button open instead, then took my hands and helped me up so he could roll them off my legs.

  When they landed on top of the shirts, I sat back and hoped that almost lying down would flatten the muffin top a little. The look Lincoln gave me still didn’t give any indication that he’d noticed the definite weight I carried around with me.

  He gave me a long, slow onceover that made me feel like he was looking at the sexiest, most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. His Cognac eyes had so much heat in them that the embers set my skin on fire as his gaze raked down.

  “Fuck.” He swallowed a few times. “I can’t remember if I’ve ever told you this, but you’re fucking gorgeous. Thought you should know.”

  All my self-deprecating retorts died on my tongue. How could I argue when I could see he meant every word?

  As he stood up and unbuttoned his own jeans, kicking them off next, I couldn’t help but repeat his sentiment.

  “I also can’t remember if I’ve ever told you this, but you’re fucking gorgeous. Thought you should know.”

  He smirked—fucking dimples—and ran his hands up and down his sides. “Yeah? You think so?”

  I took in every hard ridge of his body, every defined line, and every sculpted muscle. My mouth went dry. “Uh huh. I think so.”

  I sat up, reaching for his hands. He cocked a dark brow at me but lowered himself down over me again. Immediately wanting to feel everything I’d just feasted my eyes on, I ran my palms over his chest and stomach.

  As my hands glided over him, his muscles tightened, and soft noises came from the back of his throat. His eyes were closed again, and I took the opportunity to really explore him.

  Neither of us seemed to be in much of a rush, which was new for us. But I liked it.

  I liked noticing things about him I hadn’t before, like how his body was so firm and hard but his skin was so soft and warm. My hands traveled up and down, tracing along the lines he’d sculpted his body into.

  When my fingers reached the elastic of his briefs, I planted an open-mouthed kiss on his strong throat and whispered into his ear. “Why did these stay on?”

  “Before I could take them off, you gave me that come-hither look, so I did.”

  A giggle rang out, but it took me a moment to realize it had come from me. Fuck it. Giggling is okay when I’m with a guy like him.

  His muscles jumped when I hooked my fingers into the waistband and started working it off him. Once it was free of everything that could get hurt, I gripped it between my toes and used them to drag it the rest of the way off him.

  When he was completely naked, my hands and fingers continued their exploration. I started at his chest and worked my way down but carefully avoided his erection. I earned myself a groan from him when I passed it by, but I ignored him.

  I didn’t think we were only doing this to distract him from whatever shit had gone down, but I hoped that it was distracting him. I wanted him here, with me, right now. I didn’t want his mind wandering off, and this was the best way I knew to do it.

  My fingers itched to touch his cock, but I kept them back for now. When I had caressed every part of his body I could reach, my hands traveled farther down.

  “Sit up for a second,” I said, then slid out from underneath him as soon as he moved to comply. I dropped to my knees and wedged my shoulders between his legs, looking up into those smoldering eyes. “This okay?”

  He barked out a disbelieving sound. “Do you really need to ask me that?”

  Allowing my eyes to drop to his magnificent dick, I decided it looked perfectly happy to have me there. It was even leaking a little tear of joy. Or at least, I hoped it was joy.

  Screw it. It’s joy.

  Lincoln snorted when a wide grin spread across my lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because I’ve never been face to face with this guy before. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

  He opened his mouth, presumably with a smart-ass reply, but he cut himself off with a sharp inhale when I moved my hands to the insides of his thighs and massaged the skin there. Groans and gasps fell out of him, and I relished every single one of them.

  It was still hard to believe that I could affect Lincoln this way. The guy was the real life equivalent of a superhero to many. Aside from what my dad had said about him, I’d asked around.

  Lincoln was something of a legend, a leader who was revered by his teammates, who never got overwhelmed by the situation, and who always had everything under control.

  Yet he was also my Lincoln. The man who had given me that kiss earlier, the one sitting in front of me with his throat working and his muscles tight with restraint. Knowing that he was both those people but that I was the only one who got to see him like this for now was a heady feeling.

  Cupping his heavy balls in my hands, I watched in awe as his face changed. I massaged them gently with my fingertips, starting soft and slow.

  Guided by his facial expressions and the next-level sexy sounds he made, I increased my pressure and speed. Every time I sped up, his breathing changed. Eventually, he pushed his pelvis forward. “Fuck, Sofia.”

>   His thighs started shaking as his head dropped back against the couch. The muscles in his stomach tensed and dipped. He was fully erect now. The head of his dick had turned a dark shade of purple and a small amount of liquid still leaked from the tip.

  The ache in my core rose to painful levels. My clit throbbed from seeing the evidence of his need. Lincoln breathed hard, beads of sweat covering his chest.

  He held his muscles tightly as I stroked the length of his cock. Wrapping one hand around its base, I brought my lips closer to lick at the salty wetness there.

  I repeated the motion twice before he groaned and grabbed my wrists, holding my hands still.

  “No more.” He bit out, his voice raspy and thick with desire. “That was like torture, baby. In the best possible sense of the word, but I can’t take anymore of it.”

  He swallowed, breathing heavily. A devilish grin lifted his lips when he finally got himself under control. “My turn.”

  I ached to feel him inside me, so I shook my head and met his eyes. “No, Linc. No turns. Not today.”

  After giving me a long look, he nodded. Seemingly understanding the words I hadn’t said, he dropped to the floor with me and pushed me down to my back.

  Lincoln nuzzled my neck and planted soft kisses on my skin. Shifting his weight above me, he licked a line from the hollow of my neck to my breastbone.

  The feathery touch of his fingers on my ribs made a moan slip from my lips. His tongue traced the fleshy parts of my breasts, making the hair on my arms lift as goosebumps covered them.

  He lowered his hips to drag his cock through the slickness of my core. Warmth flooded my body, lighting my skin as my breathing deepened.

  Electrical impulses skittered from my pulsating clit to my extremities. My fingers slipped into his soft hair as I writhed beneath him.

  “Now?” he asked in a quietly intense voice. He dragged his eyes up to mine, waiting until I nodded before he thrust into me in one swift motion.