by Mariah Dietz
“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice is husky with lust as his eyes move across the span of my torso, meeting my gaze as though imparting an honesty that makes my heart swell. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? How hard you make me?” He takes my hand, pressing it against the front of his pants, which are tented from his arousal. He groans, his head falling back and to one side.
I press harder against him as I lean closer, snaking my hand across his chest and up to the back of his neck, coaxing him to tip his head forward so I can kiss him again, desperate for the air he fills me with.
His lips are insufferably soft and patient, allowing me to take the reigns as I drop my hands to the space between us and run my fingers across the warm, hard planes of his abs. I slide my tongue against his, swallowing his groan as his hands fist at my sides, kneading into my flesh. His skin is hot against the pads of my fingers as I follow the dusting of his hair to the button of his fly, where I work to release another layer between us.
Lincoln’s lips consume me, the featherlight kiss becoming an invasion as he marches me blindly backward until the counter bites into the hip bone. “I won’t be able to stop,” he says, his eyes finding mine.
“Then don’t.”
He huffs out a grin. “This is about you. I want to make you feel how badly I want you. How much I need you.”
His words are trying to fit into the right shapes and sizes of the puzzle in my head, and then his hand is at my pants, his fingers toying with the button and then retrieving the zipper as his eyes remain steady and focused on mine, likely seeing my chest rising and falling with need and fear and desire all building until it feels like my body’s about to combust.
“I want to taste you,” he says, sliding a finger down the short path my gaped pants allow, bunching the lilac lace of my underwear. My cheeks burn with my innocence. My third boyfriend had finger banged me, but it was in the dark and under the privacy of his bedspread, so he never saw even my underwear, let alone everything. He slides the index finger of his free hand into the cup of my matching bra, following the line of my breast and nipple, making my next breath come out in a hiss. His fingers at my underwear bunch the lace, skating across my skin so soft and teasing. I’m desperate for him to move lower, trace my entrance where the pressure is the greatest.
He breathes out deeply. “You’re so responsive,” he says, his eyes still watching each of my reactions. His finger tugs at my nipple again, and then he gently pulls the lace covered cup down, freeing much of my breast and nipple. His eyes become hooded, still maintaining eye contact with me as his fingers brush the sensitive skin that feels heavy and hot against the pressure of his fingers.
“Do you have any idea how much you fuck with my head? I need you, Rae. I need all of you.”
I’m not sure if I’m more afraid of the past or the future as I stare at him, recognizing the same vulnerability I see in my reflection when thinking of him.
“You already have all of me,” I whisper.
His eyes close, his hand at my underwear stilling as his fingers trace over my nipple again. When his eyes open, it’s as though the mask he’s worn has been shredded, and I see the desire and severity of this moment. His lips tip into a gentle smile, and then he leans forward, his lips brushing mine, tasting like hope and strength. Then he presses a kiss to my lips, and lowers his face to my breast, taking my nipple into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and sharp grate of his teeth make me moan, and then his hands shove my pants lower. Anticipation nearly blinds me, making the entire room fade as he pulls on my nipple with his teeth. Finally, his fingers run across my entrance, a gentle soothe to the pressure still building inside, hungry for everything he’s willing to give me.
He traces across my entrance, his hand still over my underwear, tonguing my nipple, intensifying each touch. His fingers slide into my underwear, and I shift my hips to meet his fingers, moaning before his fingers slide over my folds. “You’re so wet,” he groans, rubbing his fingers across me, easing me apart. He grazes a finger over my opening, making my hips shift with need, but instead of burying inside of me, he moves back across my folds, running his fingers across my clit and making me gasp. His mouth pulls my nipple farther into his mouth, and his fingers deliciously swirl around my clit, somehow easing and torturing me at the same time.
“Lincoln,” My voice is a foreign and desperate plea.
My nipple’s still in his mouth as he looks up at me, his fingers buried between my legs. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen and makes me want to get on all fours and beg him to bury himself into me.
“Have you ever?” he asks, freeing my other breast and licking my already pebbled nipple.
I shake my head, and though I have no idea what exactly he’s asking, I know the answer is no because my sexual experience can fit on one of those tiny Post-it notes you only use to mark the pages in a book.
“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?”
My heartrate increases, and my hips relax as I glance at the bulge in his pants, hoping that once he’s inside of me this pressure will stop threatening to burn me up.
He stands straight, kissing my mouth again. Completely. Fully. “This isn’t about sex,” he tells me. “This is about you and me.” Before the disappointment of his rejection can sink in, his finger slides into me, making my chest constrict and my breath hitch. “That’s right,” he says. His finger farther inside of me, my walls clenching around him while his thumb works over my clit, making my breaths come out faster and ragged until I can’t decide if the pressure is subsiding or continuing to build, and then, Lincoln drops to his knees. He slides my pants and underwear lower, making my nerves pitch to an all-time high. The ghost of a smile is imprinted to the back of my eyelids before his tongue slides over me, and I can’t keep my eyes open for another second, drowning in the pleasure. His fingers pull me open, exposing my clit as he licks the bundle of nerves with long, slow licks that turn faster and faster in pace with his finger sliding in and out of my entrance until the world turns white, and I shudder through my orgasm.
35
Lincoln leans his forehead against mine as I try to catch my breath, my heart still exploding in my chest as my breath comes out in heaves that he swallows, his tongue darting out to trace my lips, my musky taste staining my mouth.
My phone vibrates against the counter. I’m not even sure how it got there. I reach to silence it, refusing to allow anything or anyone to interrupt this moment I’ve waited three years for.
A second later, it vibrates again, rattling against the Formica to an unforgiving rhythm.
“You should make sure it’s not Poppy,” he says, running his fingers lightly over my sides.
I want to argue, but the double ring has me curious, turning my phone over to see Lois’s name.
“Hello?”
“Raegan?” Her voice is rushed, urgent. “There’s a situation at the marina. Some students from Brighton are on a boat, and they’re harassing the pod of dolphins. They’re drunk, and Greta wants to call the police. She’s worried they’re going to hurt themselves or the dolphins. I’m wondering if you might want to try and get there first. Save them from an arrest. I recognize one of them as your friend from the beach cleanup.”
The heat that had been flowing through me seizes as I consider the outcomes. “Okay. Thanks for the call. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Lincoln’s eyes shift between mine. “What’s wrong.”
I bend to pull my underwear and pants back into place. “Part of the football team decided to rent a boat and celebrate tonight’s victory out on the Puget Sound. They’re about to call the cops on them, but gave me a courtesy heads-up to see if I can make them stop.”
He scrubs a hand across his face, his jaw growing rigid. “Fucking bastards. Forget them.”
I know his response is solely fueled by anger as he bends to retrieve my shirt because in the next breath, he’s calling Paxton.
I point toward the door, indica
ting my escape, but Lincoln grabs my hand, his touch gentle as he threads our fingers, recapping the situation to Pax. To ensure my brother doesn’t hear me, I shoot Poppy a text, letting her know we have to go.
Lincoln murmurs a train of curse words, his gaze on me. “Okay. Yeah. I know.” He sighs deeply before hanging up.
“You guys don’t have to go,” I tell him.
“There’s no way you’re going out there to meet a bunch of stupid fucking drunks without me.”
“Pax coming?”
He nods once. “We should talk to him soon. It’s better if he finds out from us rather than rumors.” He brushes his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, releasing another sigh. “You aren’t doing this just to help him, are you?”
“Derek?”
“Who else?”
“Are you really asking me that?”
He rolls his shoulder and then his neck. “He’s not right for you.”
“Rather than tell me all the reasons another guy isn’t the one for me, I’d rather you tell me all the reasons you are the right one. Remove the politics and just be honest with me.”
His gaze shifts between mine again, but his mask remains at bay. “I want to be with you,” he says. “I told you before I want to consume you, I just neglected to mention the entirety of that desire.” He steps closer, his fingers sliding across my jaw until his fingertips are in my hair. “I want your body and your mind. I want your heart.”
My heart gallops out of my chest, seeking sanctuary in the safeness of Lincoln’s broad chest. “I already told you, it’s yours. It’s all yours.”
His lips seal over mine, his fingers burying deeper into my hair. Our moment ends before it barely begins, my phone buzzing chaotically with multiple messages from Poppy and Paxton.
“They’re ready,” I tell him.
Lincoln brushes his lips against my temple, his hand tracing down my back as I pull open the door, the noise and commotion of the party an unwanted contrast to the refuge we created.
We separate, knowing it will look suspicious if we appear together. Pax is at my car with Poppy. “Are they sure it’s them?” Pax asks.
I show him my phone, the picture Lois sent for me to confirm it was Derek. It was.
“Shit,” he breathes. “Coach is going to lose his fucking mind if they get arrested.”
Lincoln appears, crossing the street to where I’m parked. “You want to take my truck?” he asks.
“I drive faster,” I tell him.
He grins. “My truck it is.”
I scowl.
Pax laughs. “I told you, I can’t sit in your back seat. We have to ride in his truck or go separately.”
Lincoln gives me a leveling look that makes my urge to argue only stronger, but my desire to get to the marina is stronger than my will, and so begrudgingly, I follow them.
Lincoln blasts the heater as we clamber into his truck, Poppy sitting beside me with a glassy expression that has me examining her more closely.
“You okay?” I ask her.
She grins. “Fuck Chase,” she says, brushing her hair over one shoulder and fumbling with her seat belt. “I don’t need him.”
Clearly, she’s anything but okay. “I take it you found the keg?”
“Oh, they didn’t just have a keg. They had punch. Really good punch.”
Guilt kicks me squarely in the ass, regretting that I wasn’t there to watch out for her. “How are you feeling?”
“Amazing,” she says. “I’m ready to go kick these guy’s asses for making us leave. I, for one, was having the time of my life.”
“I’m surprised you could reply to my text.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “I didn’t. Paxton did.” She points at his seat in front of her.
I swallow, glancing up in the darkened cab at my brother.
“Where were you?” he asks. “Some dumbass was feeding her that shit like it was water.”
Before I can reply, Lincoln shoves an unopened bottle of water toward us. “Time to drink up,” he says.
I twist off the cap, handing it to her as Lincoln rolls her window down to allow the cold air to help sober her up.
“What are we doing?” Lincoln asks. “What’s the plan? Are we going out onto the water? Do we just call them?”
“Jamal hung up on me, and Derek won’t answer. Rae, you should try calling him,” Pax says, twisting to face me again.
I glance at Lincoln, finding his gaze in the rearview mirror. “That’s a good idea. He might answer for you.”
Calling Derek is a terrible idea that is guaranteed to burn at least one bridge tonight, but I still scroll to his name and hit the call button. It rings twice before he answers.
“Raegan!” His voice sounds relieved.
“Hey. I got a call from someone I work with. They said you and some others were out on a boat at the Sound.”
He laughs, yelling at someone. “Sorry,” he says through laughter. “Yeah, we’re out here shark fishing. Show these fucking monsters who is strongest.” He whoops.
“You can’t be out there and drunk,” I tell him, trying to remain calm and my voice relaxed. “It’s like driving a car while drinking. You’ll get arrested.”
He scoffs. “No one’s out here. And if they do come, I’ll sign an autograph for them.” He laughs.
“Trust me. It won’t work like that.”
“Who do you like? I know you want me, but there’s someone else, isn’t there? Girls line up at my door, and yet something has you constantly distracted. Is it Arlo?”
I close my eyes, struggling to remain calm. “Derek, if you guys fall into the water, you’ll drown. It’s cold, and there are dozens of strong currents because the tide is high.”
He laughs, fearlessly. “These sharks are who you need to be worried for. You want to come out here? I’ll take you. I’ll hire a fucking helicopter and give you a tour. Show you everything you’ve ever imagined.”
“Please,” I say. “You need to return to the marina.”
“God, you’re begging sounds so fucking good.”
Tears prickle at my eyes as I pull in a deep breath. Before I can steady my emotions and voice, Poppy pulls the phone out of my grip and hangs up.
“Done,” she says. “Let your team call the fucking cops. He deserves it.”
“What did he say?” Paxton asks.
“You couldn’t hear that? The son of a bitch was practically yelling.” Poppy is in full ranting mode, her eyes wide with offense.
“If they’re arrested, they destroy our chances of having an undefeated season. They’ll be benched for the year,” Pax explains as Lincoln pulls into the marina.
I’ve only driven the boat at night a few times, preferring the water when I can see Mt. Rainier and the shore rather than relying entirely on the tools of the boat.
Lincoln’s hand strokes along my back as he passes me, going to where the boat is tied to the dock while Pax and Poppy board with the light of Paxton’s phone’s flashlight. “Can you hold this?” Lincoln asks, flipping on the flashlight on his phone as well. “Are you comfortable driving tonight? I can help.”
“I didn’t know you knew how to drive a boat. Do you have your license?”
His smile is shy. Of course, he does. Lincoln’s lived a privileged life, attending a high school that is among the most prestigious and expensive schools in the state. “My dad and I spent a summer at sea when I was fifteen. It was hell.”
I nod. “That would be really helpful. I’ve only driven at night a couple of times.”
“See if you can learn their quadrants, and I’ll get us there.”
I stare at his confident hands, the width of his shoulders, and the stacks of muscles as he moves, then he stands, and his cologne mixes with the sea, and I’ve never wanted to kiss him as much as I do right now, now that I possess that right and confidence. I hand him his phone and start to turn, but he reaches for me, his fingers wrapping around my wrist.
“You’re so fuc
king beautiful.”
I hear my heart beating from the confines of his chest, happily thrumming as his fingers sweep gently over my skin before falling away as he moves to the next rope.
I board the boat, watching Pax help Poppy into a life jacket. “You should probably stay in the cabin,” I tell her. “I don’t want you falling out of the boat.”
She hits me with a glare. “My happy buzz is quickly wearing off thanks to the frigid temperatures and this situation, thank you.”
I nod. “The cabin has a heater.”
“Sold,” she says, following me to the cabin where I turn the key, the engine roaring to life.
“Raegan!” I recognize Lois’s voice from the dock and quickly head out, leaving Poppy and Pax in the cabin. She pushes away loose strands of her hair being blown across her face by a stinging wind. “I’m sorry I called you. I just didn’t want their futures to be ruined by a poor decision.”
I nod. “No. I appreciate you calling me. I’m sorry about this, and I appreciate your help.”
“Do you want me to come? I can help with the boat or maybe talk with the authorities if they beat you there. I have their last location.”
“Are you sure?” She nods, coming aboard before I can ask her again.
Lincoln quickly follows her. “I’m Lois,” she says, extending her hand to him.
“Lincoln,” he says, shaking her slender hand.
“It’s nice of you to help,” she says.
“My brother and my best friend are in the cabin,” I tell her.
Lois simply nods in response.
“Lincoln’s an experienced helmsman. He’ll be a better driver than me.”
“You sell yourself short,” Lois says. “But, that will allow you to stand watch, make sure everything’s okay. Here,” she shucks off her jacket that I try to shake off. “It’s freezing, and I need to help him navigate.”
