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I could just go down to the barn and ask, but that would start tongues wagging. I didn’t want to be the talk of the lumberyard. We were already the favorite topic of conversation within Linc’s family. As soon as I made any kind of move, all of our coworkers would speculate. No, I would have to wait until Linc came to the office or until I saw him again outside of work.
I didn’t even know where he was staying. He had obviously walked to the park that night because I knew he didn’t have a car and wouldn’t have taken a rideshare just for an evening stroll. That gave me about a mile radius that included the entire town of Singer’s Ridge. The only thing I could rule out were the cabins up in the mountains and anything directly adjacent to the lumberyard. But he could live anywhere behind Main Street, on either side. The neighborhoods there were sprawling, with streets winding in and around each other. There was no way I could find him without more information.
Unfortunately, he didn’t stop in that day. I thought Porter probably had his number, and I considered asking. I was pushing the boundaries of my professional relationship with Porter as it was. I didn’t want to add “wingman” to the list of functions my boss was performing.
I might be able to ask Gina, but after the scene I had made last night, I didn’t want to turn around and ask for his number.
I was alone when I clocked out and drove home. I was alone in my kitchen making dinner for myself, alone at the table eating my food, and alone in my bed earlier than usual. It was difficult coming up with fun things to do by myself. I could have gone tothe bar, taken myself to a movie, or called a friend. I just didn’t have the energy for any of that.
I wondered if I was getting old. There was a time when I would have rather died than spend a Friday night at home. Only old people passed up a chance to go dancing, or so I thought. The problem wasn’t really that I was old. The problem was that there was only one person that I wanted to spend my evening with, and he was unavailable.
I lay staring up at the ceiling, somehow calmer than normal. Ordinarily I put off trying to sleep until after midnight on the theory that I needed to be tired to get any rest. Most often, I watched the sunset from my chair in the backyard and soothed myself with the sounds of nature.
This time, I didn’t even care if I slept. I just wanted to get comfortable. I would be alone with my own thoughts wherever I went, so I might as well be stretched out, surrounded by fluffy pillows. I let my mind wander, not surprised that it latched on to Linc.
What was he doing right then? Had he gone to dinner with Danny or Henry? Was he at home alone just like I was? I remembered his hands running up and down my back, like they were desperate to memorize the curve of my spine. His mouth had tasted like America, the hard work he put in doing his best to mean something. And it meant everything to me. The car had been restrictive, though. When I rose up, I had to bend my neck to avoid the ceiling. I longed to stroke him in a place where we could stretch out, where I could access the hidden pleasure beneath his jeans.
I had a wicked thought and rolled over to find my vibrator in its bedside drawer. It had been a long time since I took Karl out toplay. I gave it a name because that made it seem sexier, more like a human being than a piece of machinery. I decided to rename it Linc tonight, in honor of the star of my fantasies.
I turned it on, delighted to discover that the batteries still worked. Nothing killed a mood quicker than running around the house hunting for batteries. It began to hum against my palm and I turned it over, running loving fingers up its length to the tip.
Real Linc wouldn’t be so smooth. Real Linc would have veins and be warm to the touch. I imagined real Linc moaning as I caressed him. I would lick his stalk from base to head, tasting the salt of his sweat.
I licked my finger, desperate to feel something alive on my tongue. Pulling up my pajama top, I circled one nipple with the slick digit until it straightened and stood upright. Sighing, I slid farther down into my bed. I longed to have Linc’s hands replace mine, to be able to kiss him and fondle him. The room felt empty as I pushed the toy down my pants.
I forced myself to think of Linc, how his chest would look rising above me. I would run my fingers across his nearly bald head, feeling the peach fuzz of his buzz cut. I would cup his ass and pull him inside me, relishing every inch. With that thought in mind, I penetrated myself with the vibrator.
It sent shivers through my core, almost hitting that G-spot. The mechanical vibrations built a predictable path to glory, as long as I held on to the vision of Linc’s lovemaking. It was his cock inside me, not whoever this imaginary Karl was. He was stroking my interior walls, caressing my heart and soul. It was Linc and not technology sending me over the edge, crashing down from the heights of ecstasy to the calm waters below.
I withdrew the sex toy, feeling at once satisfied and empty. It had been fun, but the exercise had only fostered the need within me. It wasn’t enough to fantasize and touch myself.
I wouldn’t rest until I had the real Linc in my bed.
15
LINCOLN
Iworked every shift I could. Porter didn’t want to give me overtime, and I couldn’t blame him. Despite the fact that the lumberyard employed almost twenty people, it wasn’t rich. Most of us were earning more than minimum wage, and there just wasn’t anything in the budget for overtime. It was a pity because if I had my choice, I would be working every waking minute.
When I wasn’t at work, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wanted to pursue my relationship with Aly, but I didn’t feel like I was on solid ground. Yes, there had been that exciting make-out session in the car, but she could just as easily have driven to my house or her house as I had suggested. That she chose a public location where we couldn’t consummate the act told me that she wasn’t ready to go all the way.
That left me with nothing to do on Sunday. I decided to take Mrs. Washington up on her offer of companionship and went upstairs to see if she was around. She made me a big breakfast of pancakes and bacon while I sat and chatted. It was weird to enjoy idle conversation, but she had been so nice openingher home to me, and I was actually getting comfortable around people again.
“Are they treating you well at the lumberyard?” she asked as the bacon sizzled in the pan.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Not working you too hard, I hope.”
“I wish I could work harder,” I confessed. “I don’t know what to do with myself on days off.”
“You could go see a movie,” she suggested, pulling the bacon off the pan and onto a plate.
I shook my head.
“You could go to the library.”
“Maybe I’ll do that,” I answered, anticipating the meal as she slid it down in front of me. “Are you going to eat?”
