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“It’s the natural progression,” Lincoln said, his expression serious. “Look at Morgan.”
“Then you’ll have to get over your dislike of her,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m trying,” Lincoln admitted with a sigh. “But Michael is miserable.”
“Put me down,” I said, feeling the strain in my back.
“I don’t want to,” Lincoln said, his voice filled with regret. “You’re angry at me.”
“I’m not,” I said, “my back hurts.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Lincoln said, his tone softening as he carried me to the bedroom.
Lincoln carried me to the bedroom, his steps deliberate as he kicked my discarded skirt and shredded panties out of the way. He lowered me gently onto the bed, his fingers already working on the buttons of my blouse.
“I don’t like you in business suits,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.
I smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. “What do you prefer me in?”
“Nothing at all,” he replied, his voice husky as he unfastened the last button.
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That’s quite obvious, Elliott.”
His gaze softened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “I love you.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to mask the warmth that spread through me. “That’s obvious, too.” I paused, recalling Sabian’s earlier defeat. “But I should be pissed that you screwed me out of a huge commission.”
Lincoln’s lips curled into a smirk as he slid the blouse off my shoulders. “Money isn’t everything. You might’ve had to battle his octopus hands.”
I shivered at the memory, nodding slightly. “I was thinking that, too.”
He didn’t respond immediately, instead pressing his face between my breasts, kissing and licking my cleavage as he tugged me closer. “You taste good,” he muttered against my skin.
“I need a shower and a glass of wine,” I sighed, trying to focus on anything but the fire he was stoking inside me.
Lincoln pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. “Are you staying tonight?”
I hesitated, torn between work and the pull of his presence. “I have no choice.”
He tilted his head, a playful yet serious glint in his eyes. “You always have a choice.”
“Then no,” I teased. “I have so much work to do.”
His expression shifted, the frown lines on his forehead deepening. “If I didn’t mention a choice, would you stay?”
I softened, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “I’m kidding. I’m expecting a call from a client tonight. We need to discuss his needs.”
“His?” Lincoln’s eyebrow arched. “Why are your clients always male?”
“They’re not always male. They’re the difficult ones sent my way,” I explained, shrugging out of my black jacket and blouse, letting them fall carelessly to the floor.
Lincoln’s eyes followed the movement, a possessive gleam returning. “You do have that charming quality about you.”
Before I could respond, my phone rang from the foyer. I slipped out of bed, clad only in my hot pink bra, and padded down the hall to retrieve it from my purse. Lincoln followed closely, his gaze burning into my back as I answered the call.
As I spoke, I couldn’t help but pace; it was a habit that relaxed me during business conversations. Lincoln’s eyes never left me, his cock still hanging out of his khakis, a testament to the hold I had over him. A few minutes later, as I finished the call, I noticed him stroking himself, fully aroused once more.
“Jesus Christ, Elliott, you’re like a teenage boy,” I teased, hanging up the phone.
