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“Then stop kissing me,” I whispered back, my voice trembling.
Lincoln paused, his mouth hovering close to mine as he searched my eyes. His usually icy blue gaze had darkened, filled with an intensity that could have been desire or rage—I couldn’t tell which.
“Damn you, Erika Bramwell,” he growled, tearing himself away from me. He ran his hands through his thick hair before sinking onto the gray leather couch, the cushions creaking under his weight.
“What’s your problem, Elliott?” I demanded, still breathless from the encounter.
“You don’t know?” he replied, his voice dripping with frustration.
“I assume it’s me,” I shot back.
“You assume correctly. I’m not normally like this,” he confessed, his tone almost bitter.
I turned to face him fully, sliding one leg up onto the couch to remove the boot from my right foot. My feet were aching; the boots were new and hadn’t been broken in yet. As I struggled with the zipper, Lincoln moved closer, his demeanor softening as he pulled the zipper the rest of the way down and yanked the boot off. He removed my thin sock and began massaging my toes, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“Such a pretty foot,” he murmured, his fingers working magic on my sore muscles. I leaned back against the arm of the couch, letting out a small sigh as he pulled my other leg onto his lap and divested me of my other boot.
“Tell me why this isn’t normal for you,” I asked, my voice softer now, more curious than confrontational.
Lincoln kept his gaze on my foot, speaking as though to it rather than to me. “I don’t do relationships. They’re foreign to me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bitter. “You think I want a relationship? I’m not good at them either.”
“Being good at relationships has nothing to do with it. I just don’t have them,” he clarified, still not meeting my eyes.
“Are women too much trouble for you?” I asked, the sarcasm barely masking my irritation.
“Quite the opposite. I love women too much. I like variety,” he admitted.
I tried to pull my foot from his grasp, but he held fast. “So, you’re a player. You fuck them and leave them?”
“I don’t have sex with anyone who doesn’t want a good time,” he said, his tone calm.
“Is that how you see me? Out for a good time?” My anger, which had simmered down, was now bubbling up again. If Lincoln Elliott thought I was going to be just another notch on his belt, he was sorely mistaken.
“That’s the problem with you,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t want it just once with you.”
“What’s the difference? Once or more, I’m still an object for your pleasure,” I retorted, my voice sharp.
“Shut up, Erika. That’s not what I mean,” he snapped, finally lifting his gaze to meet mine. “I want more. You make me want more.”
I studied his face, watching as it contorted with an emotion that looked almost like pain, wrinkles lining his forehead. He seemed genuinely conflicted, torn between his usual detached approach and something deeper that I brought out in him.
“And what’s so bad about more?” I asked, my voice softening again, curious to understand his fear.
“I don’t know how to do more. I know how to satisfy a woman, but that’s all,” he admitted, his voice strained.
I pulled my legs off his lap, swinging them over the side of the couch as I faced him. “I feel sorry for you, Lincoln. What you’re describing is a lonely existence.”
“Unlike you, who has a bunch of dogs on a leash?” he shot back, his tone suddenly harsh.
Lincoln stood up so quickly that I flinched. He grabbed his coat from where it had been draped over the arm of the couch and yanked it on, his movements jerky and agitated.
“You’re a jerk,” I spat, my anger flaring up again. “How dare you chastise me for what I do when you’re even worse.”
Lincoln leaned over the arm of the couch, his large hands gripping the leather as he loomed over me. “Am I? Am I worse? Think about what you’re doing before you condemn my way of life,” he growled.
With those final words, he straightened up and stormed to the door, yanking it open so hard it slammed against the wall. He didn’t bother closing it as he walked out, leaving me sitting there in stunned silence. I listened to the echo of his footsteps down the hallway, and by the time I got up to shut the door, he was already gone.
