Chapter Twenty-Six: Jealous
Sienna
When I get to Lincoln's condo, It's almost ten at night. Packing took longer than I thought it would, but he insisted it wasn't too late, so I showed up anyway. I'm lingering in the foyer after I step off the elevator, and then he rounds the corner wearing just a pair of briefs with no shirt on.
My eyes scan down his toned body, my mouth watering at the sight, and when I move back up to meet his gaze, my lower stomach jolts with excitement. It's as if he has one thing on his mind right now as he continues to take long, powerful strides toward me, and when he's in my proximity, he picks me up so that my legs straddle his waist, crashing his lips against mine.
Well, I certainly didn't think we'd fuck this quickly, but I'm not going to complain.
I moan into his kiss as his hands squeeze my ass over the yoga pants I'm wearing, and then he kisses down my neck, then over the tops of my exposed breasts from my tank top. He's walking and kissing my body at the same time, panting heavily as his hands roam over every single inch of me.
"Definitely hooked on more than just The Bachelor," I gasp as my hands rake through his hair.
"I know," he groans. "Fuck. I'm not making it to the living room."
We're in his kitchen, and he sets me down roughly on top of the island, shoving random bills and clutter to the side. He lifts me up again with one hand, his other tearing my yoga pants and panties down, discarding them to the floor. I have no idea why he's being like this, but my heart is hammering in my chest from the anticipation of what he'll do.
"You're so god damn sexy, Sienna," he says as he stares at me. I strip my tank top and bra off, leaning back while supporting myself on my elbows and open up my legs to him, which earns another groan. My legs are already shaking because I know just how good he is at this. I came harder than I ever have in the back of his driver's car. "Tell me it's mine."
I narrow my eyes at his choice of words, wondering why he's asking me to say that, but, then again, I asked him to say the same thing in the car a few weeks ago, so who am I to judge?
"It's yours," I reply with a smug grin.
"No one else's?" He asks, and even though we both want to devour each other right now, I can still sense that he's nervous as he asks it. He really wants it to be his, and I don't know how I feel about that.
"I don't know," I say with a shrug, "maybe you'll have to prove why it should be yours." I open my legs wider to him, and those eyes turn that ocean blue before he tugs me closer so that my ass is on the edge of the island. He gets down on his knees right in front of me, and just the sight makes me moan.
"Challenge accepted," he pants and drops me right onto his face. My ass is hanging off the edge of the counter completely now, my legs around his shoulders as I support most of my weight with my elbows. The feeling of his tongue knocks the wind out of me, a chortled scream erupting before I can stop it as I throw my head back.
He has no choice but to be suffocated by my pussy in this position, but it doesn't seem to phase him one bit. He squeezes my ass and shoves me further onto him, his tongue circling my clit, and flicks his tongue just like a snake.
Maybe that's why he got that tattoo in the first place.
"Oh, Linc—" I moan when he dips his tongue inside of me. "Oh my god, yes, baby, don't stop."
He moans harder than I've ever heard him, and I realize that's the first time I've used that nickname for him. His eyes are locked on mine when I lift my head up, and then I watch as he takes his cock out of his briefs and begins to stroke it, never coming up for air.
He's not dirty-talking, he's not taking his time, he's eating the shit out of me. He's proving just why I should continue this with him. He could stop right now and I'd be sold, but he's still going strong, still licking me again and again.
My hands go into his hair, and then I'm sliding up and down his face, over his nose, smiling when he sticks his tongue out for me to ride as well. He's so fucking dirty for me, and I love it. He always lets me be in control. He makes it easy to choose him. I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else, and he should know that by now.
"Oh my god," he mutters into my pussy as he pumps his fist around his shaft. When he picks up the pace, I feel that familiar clutch forming all too quickly, the need for release growing stronger. Just the sight of him on his knees like this could make me come, but now that he's adding tongue? I'm a goner.
I cry out when he suddenly slips his tongue into my ass, a place someone's tongue has never been before, and then he slips a finger inside my pussy as he darts his tongue in and out of it. The pleasure is too much. I'm moaning so loud that I'll be surprised if the floor below us doesn't complain.
Lincoln can tell how much I like it, and he groans harder, faster, until his cock spurts all over the floor of the kitchen. He's weak and moaning as he speeds up his tongue, and then I explode. He jumps back when I squirt onto his face, but that only makes him groan harder, latching his tongue on my pussy once more to lap it all up. My body is shaking, waves of relaxation flowing into me like a tsunami. I whimper once I'm finished, collapsing on my back right on the island after Lincoln stands up to help adjust my body.
He stares down at me, his chest heaving, looking like a greek fucking god as he says sternly, "It's mine. I don't think we need to debate again, right?"
I shake my head, too exhausted to do anything but lay here and stare at the ceiling. Lincoln disappears for a few moments and returns with a washcloth to clean the both of us up, then he picks me up into his arms and heads to the couch bed.
Lincoln surprises me more and more the longer I spend with him. At first, I thought there wasn't an emotional bone in his body, but now, when I see more Chinese food and the sprawl of Harry Potter DVDs on the coffee table, my heart melts into a complete puddle. I'm not that naive to not be able to piece it together. I know that he doesn't do this with every girl he sleeps with. We're becoming closer than fuck-buddies, but thinking about that terrifies me. I don't want to acknowledge it, and I'm thankful he hasn't brought it up. Keeping things casual for now is what I need.
"I figured we'd pull an all-nighter if you're up for it," Lincoln offers.
"Not really sure if I'll be able to stay up for an all-nighter now, but I'll try," I say and snuggle closer to his chest. He sets me down on the couch bed before he crawls beside me, throwing one of the blankets on top of us. I rest my head on his bicep, then throw one of my legs over his large, muscular thigh, clutching his body so tightly I fear it might break.
"Did you take one of those quizzes to decide that you were a Slytherin?" I ask and lazily trace the snake on his chest guarding the armor.
"I didn't need to," he replies. "I knew Slytherin was my favorite house when I first read the books."
Oh god, a man who reads. How fucking hot.
I prop my chin on his chest to look up at him. "Why the hell would you choose Slytherin?"
He shrugs. "Slytherin house was the one that everyone looked down on the most. As soon as someone puts the sorting hat on and is labeled as Slytherin, everyone views them as evil, when that's not the case at all. A lot of Slytherins just had evil shit happen to them, which in turn made them do evil things, but it doesn't make them evil. Like Severus Snape for example. He did evil things, but he did it to take down Voldemort."
"And is that why you got it tattooed? You think people view you as evil?"
He shrugs again. "I think some people view me as evil, but not as much as I view myself as evil."
This gets my attention. I furrow my eyebrows together as I cup his cheek with my hand, brushing my fingertips against his lips. I've never seen Lincoln this sad. I can almost see the demons dancing behind his eyes. "Why on earth do you think that?" I ask.
He lets out a sigh, and he's silent for a few moments as he contemplates whatever it is he's about to tell me. Finally, after a minute, he clears his throat and says, "Uh, the week before my dad died we got into a fight because he wanted me to take over the company. He knew that Jett wasn't ready, even though he favored him. Jett's ideas have always been too large, and he knew long before I did that Jett would run it into the ground if he ever took over. I mean, my father had talked about retiring for years, but I just thought it was because of wanting to spend more time at the golf course, you know? I didn't know..." He clears his throat again and blinks a couple of times, and only then do I see the tears threatening to spill out.
"You can tell me," I whisper and catch a tear with my thumb. "There's nothing you could possibly say right now that would make me go. Okay?"
He nods and takes another deep breath, placing his hand on top of mine, which is still holding his cheek. "I told my father that I wasn't going to take it over. I wanted to be a cop, that was always my dream, so my father decided not to retire. The very next week he hung himself inside his office."
My heart splits into two as more tears spill down his cheeks. I tug him close to my chest, letting him cry into my neck, rubbing gently up and down his bare back. The research I had pulled up before our meeting stated that his father had died of a sudden heart attack. They must have covered it up to protect their business. "Lincoln, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be." He clears his throat for the third time, blinking away the rest of his tears. "I decided to take over the business because I owed it to him. I knew nothing about the company, nothing about business, but I needed to try. I couldn't even see my own father struggling. How fucked is that?"
"He must have hidden it well," I reassure him. "You can't blame yourself for that, Linc."
"But I do, and every day that I keep failing, I feel like I fail him more. Jett and my mom don't know anything about the fight we had. If they did, they'd blame me for his death. I know they would."
"So, who else knows, then? Margo? Please don't tell me you've kept this inside since he's passed."
Lincoln's eyes lock with mine, and he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. "Just you," he says. "I swore I wasn't going to tell a soul, but, fuck. I don't know. The conversation was there, and it just happened. It's a lot to put on anyone, so I'm sorry, but—"
I press my lips to his. It's meant to be quick, but he wraps his arms around my back and pulls me closer. We're both still naked, heated by blankets, and right now, I don't think anything could make me feel more connected to him. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm so glad you told me, but that doesn't make you an evil person, Lincoln. You didn't kill your father. You didn't know that would happen."
"Maybe not, but I feel evil. If only I had just reached out to him and asked him how he was doing then maybe none of this would have happened. Jett wouldn't think of me as the evil brother that stole the company he wanted, my mom wouldn't think of us both as evil for the feud we can't seem to end since our father passed. But I'm doing this for the good of the company. I'm doing this for my father, even if they both don't understand it. Jett won't stop hating me until I can prove that I can be successful at this, and right now, you're my only shot, Sienna."
Damn.
Who knew a Harry Potter conversation would turn into this?
"Well, I get the Slytherin house, then," I tell him. "I'm going to try my hardest to make sure we save your father's company. Don't you think instead of pulling an all-nighter watching movies though you should be working on your business proposal?"
He arches a brow. "What's the point if you're going to be gone?"
I swat him across the chest. "Oh, hell no! You're not getting out of this. We have Zoom Calls for a reason, okay?"
He rolls his eyes and relaxes back more into the couch, leaning over to grab the remote so he can start the movie up. I go back to resting my head on his bicep, smiling when he kisses the top of my head.
As much as I want to pay attention to the movie, the only thing I can focus on is what he told me. He shared something that he hasn't told anyone before, and now would be the perfect opportunity to tell him something about my past, too, but it gets stuck in my throat. The minute I think about that night it feels like I can't breathe, and as much as I'm beginning to trust Lincoln, it's not enough yet.
"Do you know this client in Europe?" Lincoln asks.
"Through a friend of a friend, yes. Their business partner worked with us last year."
"So you've met this client in person?"
I turn my attention away from the movie to stare at him again. "Yes. Why? Are you jealous?"
"No," he teases. "I just want to make sure you're safe. That's all."
"You don't have to worry about me, Lincoln, it's not like we're—" He scoffs, cutting me off. "What?"
He seems annoyed, so I sit up and cross my legs, pulling another blanket off the couch to cover my naked body. "Why did you make that noise?"
"I didn't," he replies, jaw clenched.
"You definitely did."
He crosses his arms over his chest, then brings his eyes to mine. They're ice cold, as if he were looking at his brother. "If Reed came back today and said that he still loved you, what would your response be?"
I blink once, twice, three times before I'm able to process the question. "I don't think that's any of your business."
"Sienna, come on. Really?"
What the hell is his problem? He's acting like a jealous boyfriend when he's not my boyfriend. I know that we've grown closer than fuck-buddies, I've accepted that, but I'm nowhere near ready for a relationship. I've told him that since day one, so why is he acting so surprised now?
"Lincoln, we both agreed that this is just fucking, so why do I suddenly need to tell you about my exes? That wasn't part of the deal."
"You're going to look me in my eyes and tell me that this is just fucking?" He asks, the pain evident behind his eyes. "From day one it's been more than that, and you know it. I care for you, Sienna, and I think at this point I should know if I have something to worry about before you go away for god knows how long."
I blink away tears and grip the blanket tighter around my body, wondering how the hell this conversation went downhill so quickly. "I don't want to lose what we have," I whisper. "You knew when you agreed to hook up with me that I just wanted sex, okay? You knew that I wasn't ready for anything more."
He nods and looks away from me, and I don't know what to say or do to fix this, but the expression on his face is heartbreaking. Sure, I could just tell him that I care for him too and we live happily ever after, but I don't even know if I'm capable of being in a relationship again. I'm still fighting demons of my own. Leading him on would just hurt us both more.
"I don't want to leave like this. You just confided in me about a huge part of your life, and I don't want to take away from that. It's not that I don't care, Lincoln, but..." I trail off and reach over to grab his hand, but he takes it away and lets out another sigh.
"Look, it's my fault for thinking there was something more, alright? I'm pushing too hard when I shouldn't. Maybe we should take these next couple of weeks to have some space. I need to sort out what it is that I'm feeling, and when you come back we can talk about it more. I'm becoming too invested, Sienna, so I need to pull back."
"Pull back," I choke out. "As in stop talking to me?"
"I...I don't want people to get the wrong impression if you aren't feeling the same as me. When you come back, we'll talk about it more. See where your head's at."
"What people are you talking about? You aren't making any sense! I'm not saying that this isn't more than just fucking, Lincoln. There is something more, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to explore that yet."
He continues to remain silent, and the anger bubbles up inside of me until I stand up from the couch bed with the blanket wrapped tightly around me and storm into the kitchen. Lincoln is on my heels as I grab my clothes from the floor and begin to throw the pieces back on one by one.
How can he do this? Just because I don't have feelings for him yet he's going to cut me off? He's not going to guilt-trip me into feeling something that isn't there yet. I care for him, I do, but it's not enough to date him.
"Are you seriously mad?" He asks. "I tell you how I feel, you don't say it back, and you are the one who gets to be mad?"
"Why the fuck wouldn't I be mad! We agreed to have this be nothing more than fucking. I'm happy for the first time in I don't know how long, and you want to say you need space?" I throw my hands up and grab my purse, heading for the foyer to the elevator. "Fuck it then, Lincoln, you'll get what you asked for. I'll block your number while I'm in Europe and cut off every source of contact between us. Will that make you happy?"
"Now you're just being immature," he seethes.
"No, I'm just doing what you requested. There's a difference." The elevator doors open, so I step inside and press the button for the lobby just as Lincoln puts his hand out to stop it from shutting.
"I'm sorry, Sienna, even if you can't understand it yet. I'm in too deep, and I'm not going to let this continue if you're not in the same place as me. If you think this isn't hard for me too then—" I remove his hand and let the doors close, finally letting my sobs out when I'm alone.