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I pushed myself up, my movements sharp with emotion as I stared him down. “How?”
Lincoln hesitated, a shadow of unease crossing his features. “You can’t say I told you.”
A cold sense of dread settled in my stomach. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“It’s your choice,” he said quietly, his tone resigned. “Do you, or don’t you?”
I bit my lip, the weight of his words pressing heavily on me. Finally, I nodded. “I do because I doubt Morgan will tell me.”
“She told Michael she did,” Lincoln revealed, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching mine. “She’s still in love with him.”
I sank back onto the pillow, the heaviness of his revelation crashing over me. My best friend had kept this secret, and though I could understand her reasons, it didn’t make the betrayal any easier to bear. She was torn between two men—a position I didn’t envy.
CHAPTER 15
Lincoln
In the time Erika and I had been together, I had managed to avoid spending time with Morgan and her fiancé. Erika, however, was becoming wise to my excuses, her sharp intuition honing in on the gaps in my stories. My latest move was to arrange for us to spend the Fourth of July holiday at my parents' Southampton home. With them in Europe for two weeks and Talon running my father’s business in his absence, it was the perfect escape—far from prying eyes and awkward conversations.
“Are you almost packed?” I called out, stretching out lazily on her bed. The SUV I rented was waiting downstairs, its engine still warm from the drive over.
“Almost,” Erika’s voice floated out from the closet, a hint of frustration coloring her tone. “I can’t decide which bikinis to bring.”
“Why don’t you just swim naked?” I suggested, a smirk tugging at my lips.
Her laugh was muffled by the closet’s walls. “I’m sure you’d love that.”
“I would. It would make things much easier.”
A moment later, her face appeared in the doorway, one perfectly arched brow raised. “Easier for what?”
I met her gaze, my eyes darkening with intent. “Do I really have to explain?” My body responded to the thought, a familiar heat spreading through me.
She caught the change in my expression and chuckled, the sound rich and teasing. “And you call me a nymphomaniac,” she quipped before disappearing back into the closet.
I leaned back, rubbing the growing bulge in my shorts, willing my arousal to subside. Over the past few weeks, our sex life had taken a more intense turn—Erika had revealed a side of herself that both intrigued and challenged me. She liked to be restrained, but she also enjoyed taking control, something I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. The thought of surrendering, even to her, unsettled me. I was used to being in charge, and the idea of bending, even slightly, didn’t sit well with me.
A few minutes later, she emerged, dressed in a light blue sundress with tiny flowers that clung to her curves in all the right places. The low-cut neckline and delicate straps showcased her creamy chest and the inviting curve of her cleavage.
I let out a low whistle, my eyes lingering on her. “I love that dress on you.”
“I bet you do, Elliott,” she replied, her voice laced with knowing amusement. “It would be nice if you could think about something other than sex once in a while.”
“I do. I think about money, too.”
She rolled her eyes, walking over to me with a smirk on her lips. “The roots of all evil—sex and money.”
“You’re part of it, too, so don’t put all the blame on me,” I shot back, my tone playful but pointed.
Erika straddled me, her body pressing against mine as she ran her hips over the hard length of my bulge. The heat radiating from between her legs was driving me wild, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything other than her.
“Keep it up,” I warned, my voice thick with desire.
“Up being the operative word,” she purred, her breath hot against my ear.
I groaned, my hands gripping her waist. “Do you want to leave or fool around?”
“Fool being the operative word,” she echoed, her voice low and suggestive.
