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They were on the anaconda sized dick outlined in his pants.
I sighed, grinning over at him. "You’re distracting me."
He smirked, shaking his head. "You always distract me, dream girl," he replied, his eyes lingering on me a little longer than necessary.
I rolled my eyes, focusing back on my work. "What game is that from?" I asked a minute later, gesturing towards the recording playing on the TV when I realized he wasstillstaring at me.
"Just some film from the last time we played Chicago," he answered. “They’re the only team to beat us twice this year, and it’s looking like they’ll be up in the first round of the playoffs, so I’m trying to figure out everything we did wrong.” He turned his attention back to the screen.
Thirty minutes passed, and I’d finally gotten in the zone of the assignment, when I felt Lincoln’s gaze on me again.
I glanced over at him.
“What’s your major?” he asked, sounding perturbed there was something about me he didn’t know.
I bit my lip, trying to decide what to say. He watched me, his eyes soft as he waited for my answer.
I finally cleared my throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Umm, I don't really know yet."
His brows furrowed slightly. "What do you mean you don't know? You’re a sophomore, right?"
I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "I should be. But with how much I work, I haven’t been able to take as many credits as I’m supposed to. I’m on the ten year plan at this rate,” I tried to joke, even though I hated that. “I’m hoping it magically comes to me about what major to choose. I’ve never really had the luxury of thinking about that kind of stuff before," I explained. "It was always just about getting through the day, surviving, you know?"
Lincoln nodded thoughtfully, his expression pensive. "Yeah, I can understand that. But now that you're here, with a chance to do whatever your heart desires…what do you want?"
I bit my lip, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I wasn’t sure he really understood. As far as I knew, he’d grown up in a mansion, everything he could ever want at his beck and call. But I loved that he at least wasn’t judging me for what I’d said.
I had never really allowed myself to dream or imagine a different life for myself. It was almost too scary to think about. But as I sat there, staring at the blank screen in front of me, I knew that I couldn't keep putting it off forever.
"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "I mean, I've always loved reading and writing, but I don't know if that's something I could actually do for a career. It just seems like such a far-off dream, you know? And I don’t want to ever worry about having a roof over my head, or grocery shopping. I don’t care about being rich, but I want to be secure."
As soon as the words came out, I was alarmed at how easily I’d said them. I'd always been guarded, but with him, it felt like the walls were crumbling down with barely any effort on his part. I found myself sharing things I’d never even admitted to myself before.
He just seemed so genuinely interested in everything that came out of my mouth. No one had ever looked at me and really wanted to see more.
He was casting a spell on me, wrapping himself around my heart. And it was both exhilarating and fucking terrifying.
Every second with him was making it harder and harder to resist.
Lincoln smiled reassuringly at me, reaching over to stroke my cheek gently. "Everything starts with a dream, baby. And now you have me to make sure it all happens."
I wanted to scream then, tell him to stop making promises that would devastate me after he decided he was done. But instead, I found myself smiling back at him, a warmth spreading through my chest that pulled on the residual cold my memories always kept around.
He was about to say something else when his phone buzzed on the couch next to me, interrupting our conversation. And when I glanced down, my heart sank at the sight of a woman's enormous breasts on the screen.
It took me a second to actually process what I was seeing, but Lincoln was already reaching for the phone, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line as his jaw clenched.
"What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, quickly deleting the picture and blocking the number it had come from, and setting his phone face-down on the couch. He peered up at me, his eyes dark with emotion. "That’s not what you think. Sometimes people get a hold of my number…and I guess that’s their play. I have to change my number all the fucking time.” His voice was low and serious, his gaze pleading as he stared at me.
“So you didn’t know her?" I pressed, hating how angry and jealous I sounded.
He smiled gently, once again seeming pleased by my raging emotions.
“Well, those were just her boobs, so I can’t be sure, but no, I don’t think those boobs belong to anyone I’ve ever met before.”
He was trying to joke with me, but my green-eyed monster was out of control. I never would have expected this to be me.
I started gathering my stuff.
