Chapter 18
Cleo
“You’re telling me Lincoln Scott is asleep in your bed right now?” Molly poured a cup of coffee and offered the carafe to their roommate Kasia, who hugged an empty mug with both hands and nodded.
“Hewasasleep in my bed, yes. But since you have a voice like a fucking foghorn, he’ll be joining us momentarily.”
Molly scrunched up her face. “Blah, blah, blah. So.” She dropped her voice. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
“That’s my cue to leave.” Kasia grabbed a pancake from the stack.
“You don’t wanna hear all about Cleo’s romp in the sack with the God on skates? Your loss.”
Kasia rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, shoved the pancake in her mouth, and left.
Molly turned back to Cleo. “Again I say… Tell. Me.Everything. But don’t stop the pancake production to do so.” She winked and took a huge bite before gesturing at Cleo to continue.
Cleo’s face burned hotter under her friend’s questioning than from drizzling batter into a hot pan. She kept her back to Molly as she flipped another pancake.
“I haven’t heard many rumors about Linc in the sack, or anywhere else, really. He’s got the goods on the ice, and it seems he doesn’t get around much. Keeps both his nose and his dick clean, I guess. What’s he like? Other than STD free I’m assuming?” She leaned forward, chin on the palms of her hands, elbows planted on the table. “At least tell me… is he good in bed?”
“I’d love to hear the answer to that.” Lincoln was standing in the doorway, a grin teasing at his lips, and his fingers gripping the frame over his head. He’d borrowed a pair of her pajama pants which were about a foot too short in the leg and hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers from the night before peeking over the top of the pants.
Good Lord, that was one delicious Adonis belt. And what was it about men with bare feet that turned women to a molten pile of want?
“You went through my drawers?” She slid a pancake onto the pile and returned the pan to the stove.
“Not quite. Pile of laundry on top of your chest of drawers. But let’s not change the subject. Molly asked you a question, Ms. Martinez.” He crossed the room and placed his hands on her hips as she poured some batter onto the hot pan. He kissed her cheek and spoke into her ear. “Aren’t you going to tell your friend how I rated in bed?”
“I hate you both.” She flipped the pancake and turned to face him.
He leaned down, covering her mouth with his and gave her a gentle kiss. “Good morning to you, too.”
Molly giggled. “Gag. You’re gonna make me puke my breakfast before I even eat it. That’s how vomiticious you two are. It’s oddly… intimate for two people who just hooked up.” She tapped her empty fork on her chin. Her eyes brightened and her eyebrows jerked as though she’d clicked a piece of a puzzle together. Jabbing her fork in Linc’s direction she shrieked. “Is he… are you…?” She didn’t complete her question, but Cleo could all but see the cogs turning.
Linc didn’t answer the half asked question, but his cheeks darkened.
“He is, isn’t he?”
“You realize you haven’t actually asked a question yet, right?”
“Cho-Cho so help me, I will stab you with this fork if you keep dancing around the point.”
“He’s the guy you’ve been texting?”
Cleo rolled her lips between her teeth and nodded, willing Molly not to make a scene. Mercifully she didn’t, mostly because her mouth was hanging open. “Well. That’s going to need unpacking later. But for now, fend for yourself in this house, Linc. Coffee’s in the pot, juice is pre-poured over there on the counter, and if you’re a tea weirdo like Cho-Cho, there’s hot water in the kettle. Pancakes, bananas, bacon, whatever your jock-heart desires. And I’m with Linc.” She turned toward Cleo, raising her voice. “I think you should answer my question. It’s my duty as a best friend to make sure he performed to satisfactory levels.”
Cleo swallowed a mouthful of tea on a snort, glad it didn’t squirt out her nose. She glanced between her best friend, and the God among men whose tongue had ravaged her clit, before quirking an eyebrow. “Satisfactory.” She folded her arms.
Molly’s braying laugh and Lincoln’s indignant “What the fuck?” made Cleo giggle so hard she could hardly breathe. “Okay, fine. Cuddly. He was cuddly in bed. Happy now?”
Molly stabbed a piece of pancake with her fork and flapped it at her friend. “This isn’t over.”
“I like to cuddle.” Linc shrugged, picking up a plate, moving some pancakes onto it from the stack next to Cleo. “I was very disappointed I woke up alone.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “I woke up wanting a very specific something for breakfast.”
His quiet voice shot heat straight to her core, she squeezed her thighs together and bit her lip.
“You’ll wanna flip that, Lizzy.” He gestured at the pan with his elbow and grabbed a glass of orange juice.
