AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I gazed up at his handsome face, fighting the urge to smile. "I’m with someone."
He glanced over in the direction Wayne had gone and then back at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No offense, but you’re way out of that guy’s league."
"No kidding," I mumbled, unable to stop myself.
He didn’t miss a beat. Instead of pressing further, he sat down next to me and extended his hand. "Lincoln Elliott."
My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t quite find my voice. This was the man who had tormented me at the gym, and now, up close, I could see just how gorgeous he really was.
"And you are?" he prompted when I still hadn’t spoken.
"Huh?" was all I could manage.
He gently cupped my chin, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. His blue eyes locked onto mine, blazing with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. "Your name?"
His hand was warm on my skin, and the scent of his cologne, something rich and expensive, filled my senses. "Erika Bramwell."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you in the flesh after our negotiation."
"You’re Lincoln Elliott?" I asked, still processing the revelation.
He let go of my chin, though I found myself wishing he hadn’t. "Are you surprised?"
"Should I be?" I shot back, trying to regain some composure.
"You seem to be," he replied with a smirk.
Before I could respond, a heavy hand clapped down on Lincoln's shoulder, and we both looked up to see Wayne standing over us, his face twisted in anger.
"Get the hell away from her. She’s with me," Wayne growled, his voice low and threatening.
"Wayne, this is my old friend, Lincoln," I said smoothly, ignoring Wayne's tone. "We’re both agents."
Wayne's scowl deepened, but he grudgingly offered his hand to Lincoln. As Lincoln rose from the banquette, he towered over Wayne by several inches. When their hands met, I noticed the way Lincoln’s grip tightened, just enough to make Wayne visibly wince. Wayne’s shoulders slumped in defeat as Lincoln released him, their power dynamic instantly clear.
It was a stark contrast—Wayne, the man who couldn’t even keep up with a dance, and Lincoln, who seemed to command the room with a mere glance.
"Do you want to join us?" Wayne asked, his tone faltering, a clear sign he was starting to feel out of his depth.
Lincoln glanced over at the man he had been sitting with two sections away, and when I followed his gaze, I noticed the younger version of Lincoln was deeply engaged in conversation with two women from the bridal party. He’d be fine. I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know Lincoln better, even with Wayne buzzing around.
"Sure, thanks for the offer." Lincoln slid into the seat next to me, ensuring our sides touched as he settled in. The warmth of his body against mine was a pleasant contrast to the cool air conditioning in the VIP section.
"What brings you here?" Lincoln asked, his voice low and smooth.
"I’m celebrating," I replied, a playful smile curling my lips.
"And she called me to take her out," Wayne interjected, as if trying to stake his claim.
"I wanted to hang out," I clarified, brushing off Wayne’s attempt to assert dominance. My focus was entirely on Lincoln, who seemed more than happy to reciprocate.
We chatted easily for several minutes, Lincoln's charm effortlessly drawing me in. But Wayne, apparently not one for subtlety, started whining about wanting to go back on the dance floor. I sighed inwardly, dreading the thought of more awkward gyrating.
"I’d like to dance, too," Lincoln said, his voice cutting through my reluctance like a lifeline.
Relief washed over me as Lincoln placed a hand on my back, guiding me to the dance floor while Wayne led the way. His touch was light, yet deliberate, a gentle stroke of his fingers on my skin that sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t help but anticipate what was to come, suspecting that if Lincoln danced the way he walked—with the smooth, predatory grace of a panther—I was in for a treat.
I wasn’t disappointed.
