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“Are you saying I can be a smelly slob and you’d still love me?” I challenged, tilting my head to look up at him.
“Nope,” he said with a grin, “but I don’t think it’s possible. Even without perfume or deodorant, you still smell delicious—good enough to eat.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, the tender gesture making my heart skip a beat. I knew if we stayed this close, things would escalate quickly—sex would be on the table, or more likely, I would be on the table. Reluctantly, I pulled away, knowing I had to leave.
Lincoln’s eyes darkened as he watched me toss his t-shirt onto the bed and reach for my bra. His gaze roamed up my legs, lingering on my bare breasts, making my skin prickle with heat.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said, trying to sound stern as I fastened my bra.
“Why?” he challenged, his voice low and hungry.
“Because,” I replied, zipping up my skirt, trying to focus on anything other than the way he was devouring me with his eyes.
“That’s not an answer,” Lincoln said, sitting down on the edge of the unmade bed, his gaze never leaving me.
“I don’t have to explain it,” I shot back, slipping on a gray silk blouse.
He sighed, leaning back on his hands. “I still hate that you’re going out tonight.”
“It’s a Thursday. The club won’t be crowded,” I said, adjusting the buttons on my blouse.
“It’s summer in Manhattan,” he countered dryly. “Clubs are always packed.”
I rolled my eyes, slipping on my black heels. “Get over it, Elliott. I’ll be back in no time.”
“Bullshit,” he muttered, his tone edged with frustration. “I’ll be bored as fuck while you’re gone.”
“You need a hobby,” I said, turning to face him.
“I have a hobby,” he quipped, standing up and closing the distance between us.
“Then do it,” I challenged, crossing my arms.
“It concerns you,” he replied quickly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Sex with me is not a hobby,” I shot back, though a smile tugged at my lips.
“No, but it’s my favorite activity,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he moved closer.
I shook my head, trying to resist the pull of his magnetic presence. But before I could say anything, he was right in front of me, his hands on my hips, his body pressing into mine.
“Don’t even,” I warned, my voice breathy.
“I want a kiss before you leave,” he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Christ, you act like I’m going on a long trip,” I muttered, but the way he was looking at me made my heart race.
“Any time apart feels like years,” he said, tilting my head up with his fingers under my chin. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
His lips crashed against mine, and I melted into the kiss, my hands instinctively winding around his neck. His hand left my face to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, sending a jolt of desire through me. The heat that had been simmering between us flared to life, making me want to call Morgan and tell her I’d be late. But I made a promise.
“Stop it,” I said, pulling away with a shaky breath. “I have to go.”
Lincoln sighed, his frustration palpable. “I’ll just have to nurse my sorrows with a glass of whiskey.”
“Not too much,” I warned, heading down the hall. But before I could reach the door, he was there, gently pushing me against it, my front pressed into the cool wood.
“I’ll be here, ready and waiting for you when you get back,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
