Andie stares at Linc with those speculating eyes, and then to me. Stop staring at me. Stop staring at me.
“Whatever,” she huffs and waves at us. “I need to go before my husband throws up in my car. Love you both.”
And she’s gone.
The second the door shuts, I’m up and in Linc’s arms as he carries me over to the couch. He sits down with me in his lap, allowing me to straddle him. “Now, I’ll let you ride me like the good little cowgirl you want to be, but then I get to bend you over this couch and ride you. Got it?”
My legs squeeze around him, already feeling the wetness form. “Absolutely.”
“God, you’re so fucking perfect. Shirt off, beautiful. Now.”
With a giggle, I lift my arms and off goes my shirt. My skirt has ridden up my thighs, giving Linc easy access to my butt cheeks and panties. Instantly, his mouth is around my breast, sucking at my flesh.
“Fuck, I love your tits,” he praises as both hands cup my breasts. My hands are in his hair—I love the feel of my fingers threaded through his thick mane.
“Kiss me. I need you to kiss me.”
“Anything for you.” And his lips are on mine. Crushing our mouths together, fighting to get closer. I moan, he growls. It’s never enough. If I could climb inside him, I would. That’s how much I need him.
“Linc, I want—”
“Hey, sorry I forgot my…holy what the fuck are you two doing?!”
I throw myself off Linc so fast, only to realize I don’t have a top on and squeal, grabbing a pillow to cover my chest. “Andie, Jesus. What are you doing?”
“Um, me?” she asks in astonishment. “You want to know what I’m doing?”
Shit.
I feel like now is the right time to start swearing. Because shit! I look to Linc, who doesn’t seem like he knows what to do any more than I do.
“Listen… it’s not what you—”
Storming over to us, she snaps. “Not what I think? Okay, so you half naked on top of my brother is not what I think. What should I think then, Reagan?”
Oh God, she’s mad. She looks super mad. She turns to Linc. “I told you not to mess with her. I told you she was not one of your conquests. Dammit, Linc! Why? She’s my goddamn sister-in-law!” She ends on a yell.
Linc hasn’t moved, and neither have I. I can’t tell who she’s really mad at. I go to open my mouth, but Linc beats me to it.
“Because she isn’t a conquest to me,” he bites out, his tone dead serious. “She’s my fucking everything.”
I think Andie and I gasp at the same time.
“I know you don’t approve, and I love you, sis,” he huffs, “but it’s none of your business. I would kill myself before I ever hurt her. I’m in this for the long haul. If she’ll allow it.”
I turn to Linc, the tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Linc. I feel the same way.” With the pillow still covering my chest I lean in and kiss him.
“Umm, I’m still here,” she screeches.
We break apart guiltily.
“Listen…” I start, unsure of how this is going to go. “This started after Chase. I know that question is running through your head. But what we have is something that I’ve never wanted more. I know you may not understand. And neither will my family. But for right now, we want to keep this between us. To enjoy us before my brothers find out. Please. I know you might hate me for what we’re doing—”
Andie quickly grabs my hand. “Hate you? Why would I ever hate you? My brother deserves happiness and if that’s you then so be it. And I want you to be happy. You spend too much of your life worrying about others and not about yourself. If this is what you both want, then I’m all for it. Shit, one hundred percent. I can’t predict how your brothers will take it, but I support you.” She turns to Linc. “Both of you.” The tears fully drip from my lids as I reach out and hug Andie.
“Okay, okay. As much as I want to bond over this, you’re still topless, so…”
I laugh and pull away. Linc grabs my hips and hauls me behind him as if to shield my nakedness. Andie shakes her head at him, but not before he receives the smile of approval. “I’m just going to say that I am not shocked at this. Just that it took this long for you two to get caught.”
Now I’m the shocked one because I didn’t think we appeared to be anything more than the best friends we were before last weekend.
“Oh, give me a break,” she says rolling her eyes. “Why do you think Roman really hates Linc? It’s because he sees the way you two look at each other. He would have to be a dummy not to notice. Anyone would be. I doubt he’ll be shocked when he hears the news. But either way, your secret’s safe with me.” She walks away then realizes why she even came back in. She turns and picks up the stuffed animal lying next to the couch. “Mr. Pickle. Molly’s favorite. Nighty night, you two.”
And then once again, she’s gone.
We stand there for a few minutes, trying to take in what just happened.
“I think that went well,” Linc says in my ear as his lips close around my earlobe. And surprisingly, I think it did, too. I was super worried about what Andie would think and to get her approval means so much to me. He sits on the sofa and pulls me down beside him. I take the lead and straddle his lap.
“Maybe we should get back to you telling me just how perfect you think I am.”
And with that, with his lips, fingers, and cock, Lincoln Carter shows me exactly what he thinks of me.
Bull Honkey
OVER THE PAST THREE WEEKS, Reagan and I have developed a bit of a routine. We wake up, we fuck. She goes off to work, and I spend the day sketching for Ram. I meet her for lunch, we fuck. Then, I pick her up from work, come home and cook her something that makes her start moaning…which makes us fuck. We end up spending the rest of the night playing around, experimenting with things she’s curious about, which leads to more fucking.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I never saw myself as a goal-oriented kind of guy but I know now that I want to do this every day for the rest of my life. Goal-oriented as fuck.
Reagan is just…
“A walrus.”
I jerk my head to stare at the client who sells baby gear and organic shit. “A walrus?”
“Walter Ruston. Get it?” The guy with the receding hairline and trendy black-rimmed glasses grins at me. “My husband thinks it’s clever.”
Ram scribbles something down on his pad. “Actually, that’s really clever. We could launch an entire brand around your name. ‘Walter Walrus Ruston.’ I like it. Give me a few days to come up with some ideas and slogans. Linc, you got any ideas rattling around in your head about logos?”
I focus on my task rather than my fuck-hot girlfriend. Sitting up in my chair, ignoring the stiffness of the navy dress-shirt Reagan insisted on getting me, I start sketching. The shirt looks all right on me, I guess. A far cry from my normal attire. She rattled out words like corporate and sexy, and the next thing I knew, she was on her knees in the dressing room, showing me just how hot she thought I looked.
I smirk as I sketch the walrus. When I draw on the same black-rimmed glasses Walter is wearing, he squeals and claps his hands. Ram chuckles behind me. After a few minutes, I push the pad over to Walter.
“This is art,” he sighs, clutching his chest with one hand. “I can already see this logo on price tags and shopping bags. I love it.”
Ram claps a hand on my shoulder. “Good work, man.” Then he turns his attention to Walter. “I’m going to work up some mockups for you for your website and maybe even throw the logo on a couple of shopping bags, so you have an idea. This is going to turn out awesome, Mr. Ruston.”
“I completely agree. Do you mind if I take a picture of this to show my husband? He is going to freak out,” he exclaims, his smile wide.
Pride fills my chest that I can do something easy as shit and make people happy. This gig is actually kind of fun. I’ve gotten to know Ram a lot better during these past three weeks, too. Not all
the clients want hand drawn logos but many do. Everyone wants to be different and stand out from the rest. It’s been fun being a part of the process. I never dreamed that drawing could actually lead to a career.
And it is a career.
Ram handed me my first paycheck and I nearly shit a brick. Took my girl out for some celebratory steak afterward, too. After a lifetime of being a fuck up, I’m finally finding some solid ground to stand on. I feel like my life is coming together.
Only problem is, Reagan and I are still keeping our relationship a secret. My sister made good on her word and never spoke of our relationship to Roman or anyone else. As much as she likes to blab her big mouth, I think she knows how Rey’s brothers, especially Roman, can be. We don’t like each other, bottom line. I don’t need to give him another reason to hate me. We’re not friends but we tolerate each other. That’s the best relationship I could ask for with him.
“We’ll keep in touch,” Ram says as he stands, offering his hand to Walter.
“I knew you guys were going to help make this real.” Walter beams at us. “It’s real. It’s really real.” He starts fanning his face. “My mother is going to go bananas once I show her this logo, too.”
Ram and I both chuckle at the man’s excitement. Once we’re finally in Ram’s Mustang, he tosses his bag in the backseat and we gun it through town. I lose the tie and unbutton the top button so I can breathe.
“Want to go to Bender’s and celebrate? Lunch is on me,” he says with a grin.
“I could go for a Bender Bacon Burger.”
While we drive, I text Reagan.
Me: Hey, beautiful. Small problem.
She responds immediately.
Rey: Oh no!! Did you not land the client? What’s wrong?
I’m grinning like a fucking idiot. Ram side eyes me as if he’s curious as to who I’m talking to.
Me: Actually, the client loved my logo and Ram has a pretty fucking cool branding idea he’s going to work on. The client was excited. But, your brother wants to take me to Bender’s to celebrate.
Her response is quick.
Rey: OMG! GO!!! Don’t worry about me. Andie just came into the office with Molly anyway. When she leaves Roman’s office, I can flag her down and grab lunch with them. This is great, honey! I’m so proud of you!
Once again, pride fills my chest. Reagan never fails to make me feel good about myself. When we’re not fucking like two bunnies, we’re still the same ol’ best friends. Linc and Rey. Thick as thieves.
Me: Thanks, babe. I’ll make it up to you later…
Rey: How? Tell me. In detail.
I jerk my gaze over to Ram but he’s drumming on the steering wheel as he jams out to something on the radio that has to be at least twenty years old.
Me: I’d take this fucking tie you made me get and gag you with it while I had my way with you.
The three dots are moving as she replies.
Rey: OMG. I just shut my office door. Tell me more because now I’m feeling hot and bothered.
I snort because I can almost imagine my beautiful girl fanning her face. Those high cheekbones painted crimson. Her perfect bottom lip caught between her teeth as she anticipates what’s to come.
Me: Then, I’d bend you over your desk and push up your sexy as fuck skirt so I could see your ass.
“Tuesday special is half-priced draft beer and appetizers,” Ram says as we pull into the parking lot.
When I look back down at my phone, Reagan has replied.
Rey: Would you spank me?
Me: Would you deserve a spanking?
Rey: Yes.
I nearly choke when she sends me a picture of her wet fingers. Fuck. And I’m stuck having lunch with Ram.
Me: YES. A hard spanking. One that will make you scream so loud everyone in the office will know you’ve been a naughty girl. You’re supposed to save yourself all for me. Now you’re being greedy…
“You going to text your girlfriend all day or are we going to go eat?” Ram asks with a lifted brow. “Who’s the chick, anyway? You’re kind of silent about it. I probed Reagan and she didn’t know either.”
Gritting my teeth, I jerk the handle open and stalk to the bar. Over my shoulder, I say, “Nobody. Just a friend.”
“You seem to have a lot of those,” he says with a chuckle. “Friends.”
With my phone stowed away in my pocket, I try to focus on placing my order with Brent at the bar. Ram and him cut up back and forth about Dani and Andie. It gives me a minute to check my phone.
Rey: Bad for you. You like it when I’m bad…
Rey:
Fuck.
Me.
She’s taken a picture with her panties slid down to her thighs just below her skirt as she sits in her chair. I can’t even see her pussy but it has to be the most erotic thing I have ever seen in my life. My cock is hard and I can’t begin to think straight.
After Brent leaves, Ram babbles on about Walter Ruston and another client we are going to see tomorrow. I’m nodding, all the while, desperate to check my phone again. It keeps buzzing, and I am dying to know if she sent more bad-girl texts.
Brent sets down our burgers when a woman screams behind me. Ram and I turn to see an older woman patting her husband on the back. He’s a sick shade of purple. Tossing my phone on the bar, I slide off the stool and stalk over to them. The man is choking. I guess those bullshit CPR and first aid classes they made us take while in juvi are coming in handy just like they told me they would because I don’t think, I act.
I grab the man under his arms and lift him right out of his seat. Remembering vaguely what I’m supposed to do, I clasp my hands and hit him on the chest in an upwards motion. It takes four times before a big hunk of hamburger shoots from his mouth and lands in his wife’s tea glass with a splash.
“Oh, my heavens,” the woman cries out. “You saved my Morton!”
The old man coughs but turns to look at me. “Thanks, kid.”
I’m about to back away to go eat my burger when the woman comes over to hug me. “Don’t you dare run off, sweetheart. I need to tell all my bridge friends about the guy from Prison Break who saved my husband. Let’s take a selfie.”
Prison Break?
What the fuck is she going on about?
“Morton,” she hollers, “grab my selfie stick from my purse.”
Selfie stick?
“Ma’am—”
“Oh, dear. You sound just like Michael Scofield, too.”
Morton rummages through her purse, grunting. “Dammit, Belinda, you have too much crap in here. I can’t find the damn thing.”
She exhales loudly. “Honestly, Morty. Wear your bifocals when we go out in public. How many times have I told you?”
“Listen,” I say. “It was nice saving your husband’s life and all, but my burger is getting cold.”
“Bull honkey,” she chirps. “I need proof that Mr. Scofield saved Morton’s life. They’ll never believe me otherwise.”
“I’m not Michael Scof—”
“FOUND IT!” Morton yells.
Just wait until I tell Reagan about this shit.
Reagan.
Fuck.
I jerk my head over to where Ram is sitting and he’s glaring at me. His jaw is clenched and my phone is in his grip. He’s not looking at it, thank fuck.
“I really need to—” I start.
“Hold still,” Belinda chides. She fiddles with her phone and connects it to a stick. Then, with way too practiced efficiency for an old lady like herself, she extends the stick out in front of us. “Say cheese!”
I smile because I just want to get the hell back over to Ram before he sees something that might scar him and Reagan both for life.
“Well, hold on,” Belinda grumbles. “My hair looks horrible.” She fusses with her white bangs for a moment before ordering, “Say cheese!”
Morton stands there staring at us with disinterest as if this sort of thing happens a
ll the time.
“This is a wonderful picture, Mr. Scofield. The ladies will be so green with envy. I can’t wait to put this photo up on the Facebook.”
I give her a nod and wriggle from her grip. “If you don’t mind—”
“Not so fast, mister,” she huffs. “Let me give you something for saving his life.”
While she roots around in her purse, I shoot another worried glance over at Ram. He’s chewing on his burger but his brows are still furrowed. I’m definitely fucked.
“Here you go, sweetie,” Belinda coos. “A little something for your troubles. I know you’re a big Hollywood man but I know sometimes it’s nice to have a little pocket money for when you’re out and about trying to blend in.”
She hands me a crisp five-dollar bill and grins.
Reluctantly, I take the bill so she’ll leave me alone and wave at them both. “Thanks for the, uh, money.”
I bolt back over to my barstool. Ram sets the phone down face first and slides it over to me.
“There are some things a man should never see. And I mean never.” His voice is hard. “’Just a friend,’ my ass.”
Turning to him, I let out a sigh. “Look, man—”
“I’m not done talking,” he snaps.
Clenching my jaw, I glare. “So talk.” I’m not backing down on this. I fucking love Reagan. I’m not letting Ram or anyone tell me I’m not good enough for her. She’s mine.
“How long?”
“Since after Chase.”
He picks up his beer and gulps it down. “Are you good to her?”
“Of course I fucking am,” I growl.
His stiff shoulders relax a bit. “Good. Now as much as I did not want to see my sister’s boobs…” He shudders and makes a little gagging sound.
I’m just irritated she sent a shot of her boobs and I didn’t even get to see them yet.
“I’m glad she’s happy,” he says, his tone hoarse. “I knew something was different with her. At first, I thought it was because she broke up with Chase and felt free. Now I realize it’s because she’s been with you. What kind of plans do you have with my sister?”
“The forever kind,” I tell him, my tone dead serious.
Thieves 2 Lovers Page 12
