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Holding on

Chloe’s release tugged me right over my own edge. The force of it was knee-buckling. I gripped her hip with one hand, my other palm clinging to the edge of the counter, as I poured into her, holding on for dear life. She curled against me, whispering my name once more as I said hers in a ragged gasp.

Through every second, I held on.

Chapter Fifteen

Chloe

That counter is ruined

My entire body felt as if it were ringing from the echo of my climax. I felt unexpectedly emotional. And yet, as vulnerable as I felt with what had just happened with Lincoln, I felt safe with him.

My head was tucked into the curve of his neck. He was warm, and I could feel his strength. One arm was curled all the way around my waist, his palm big and strong, resting against my hip. I could hear the subtle beat of his heart slowing along with mine as we came down from the insane high of our encounter. I was almost afraid to lift my head to look into his eyes, but I knew I eventually needed to.

We were in the kitchen. I roamed the hallways restlessly at night and came down here for cocoa more often than not, just as I had tonight. I’d never encountered anyone other than Lincoln, but I didn’t want to, especially not like this. I started to get a little nervous, and his palm shifted from my hip, sliding up my back in a soothing pass.

I felt the rumble of his voice as he murmured, low and gruff, “I can literally hear you thinking, Chloe,” with the barest hint of a chuckle rustling in his throat.

I giggled and finally lifted my head. I felt a little bashful, but I wasn’t going to shy away. Not now. As I held his gaze, it ended up making me feel even more emotional. I almost started crying, not because of anything he did, but because his gaze was warm and he looked almost as shocked as I felt. Somehow that comforted me.

“We’re naked in the kitchen,” I whispered.

His chuckle was more than a rustle this time, and I bit my lip as I giggled again.

“We should probably remedy that,” he murmured.

The next few moments were quick. He was solicitous in a way that made me feel so protected, making sure I got dressed first. He even tied my robe for me. After that, we were standing there beside the counter. Oh, my God, every time I looked at that counter from now on I would remember the way he made my body sing. Honestly, best climax of my entire life, and that included the solo one I had not that long ago entirely because of him.

I suddenly didn’t know what to say. I turned away, rinsed my mug and put it in the drying rack. When I turned back, he was still there waiting, his gaze watchful, almost careful.

I started to move, but my knees actually felt a little wobbly. Next thing I knew he lifted me into his arms, hooking his forearm under my knees.

“Lincoln,” I squeaked, my voice still a little raspy. “I can walk, you know.”

“You sure about that?” he teased lightly.

“Well, yeah,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.

He ignored me and began walking through the kitchen and into the dark hallway. The only light in this hallway came through the windows at the far end, moonlight falling through and offering a pearly beacon. His footsteps were quiet on the floor.

Without even lowering me, he nudged the door open to the suite where I stayed, across the hallway from where he and his brothers stayed. He carried me straight through to my room, finally lowering me to the floor at the foot of my bed. I watched as his gaze arced around the space. I had left the lamp on beside the bed.

“I haven’t decorated,” I said, when his gaze made its way back to mine. “I like the way your mom decorated it.”

“Yeah.” His voice was low, and the moment felt suddenly intimate, as if little sparks were falling around us, shimmers of the echoes of what we’d just shared.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” he said.

Just when I was wondering what to do, he startled me by bending low, his hand lacing into my hair as he gave me a fierce but gentle kiss. As he drew away, he caught my bottom lip with his teeth, releasing it slowly.

“If anyone texts you again, tell me.”

A breath later, he was gone.

I stood there trying to take measure of what had just happened. When I lie in bed a few minutes later, I thought I might toss and turn, because I was a gold medal overthinker and now I had something to absolutely obsess about. And yet, my body was so sated, so relaxed in the aftermath of, well, Lincoln, that I fell asleep quickly.

Chapter Sixteen