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Linc’s hand moves from my hip to the edge of my dress, and I feel my breath stutter in my chest. I want this. I want to feel his hands on me. I’ve craved it since the first time he did it weeks ago. The memory of the way he touched me is ingrained in my brain.
As his fingers touch my exposed pussy, he stills, his lips finding my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “Do you know how hard it makes me knowing that you’ve been walking around here all night with your cunt bare?”
He slides his fingers over my pussy, working my clit, sliding a finger inside me, and stroking me until I sag against him, my legs weak. I glance around but most people are watching as the NFL guy, who is lying on the floor as the woman rides his face, is fucked by the movie guy. It’s like being on the set of a porn film, only this is real and feels more sensual than dirty or sleazy.
“Watch them, Lottie. Look at the pleasure they’re giving and receiving.” His free arm bands around my waist and my breathing becomes raspy and uneven as Linc works my clit, the wet glide of his fingers proving to him how much I want this.
I grip his arm, the suit fabric abrasive against my skin as I feel my climax build. Pleasure coiling inside me from his touch. “Linc.”
I don’t know what it is I want but I know I need something.
“Come for me, Lottie. Give it to me now.”
I bow forward as my orgasm hits me and clamp my thighs around his hand as he turns to swallow my scream with his mouth. Linc doesn’t stop kissing me until my climax has subsided. He lifts his head and, for the first time since we met up again, I see the man I knew, his emotions raw and vulnerable. A second later I see his expression go blank as he lets me go, my legs wobbly.
Linc steps back and looks around before he pins me with a gaze. “Well, that performance should get some interest for the auction.”
His words are like ice water on my skin. “You bastard.”
He smirks. “Now, now, Lottie. Remember your place.”
“Oh, I remember my place.”
I step toward him, anger racing through me like a live wire. He humiliated me again and I let him, but that was the last time. I poke him in the chest. “That’s the last time you touch me, Lincoln. Stay the fuck away from me.”
He puts his hands in his pockets as he smirks. “Oh, Lottie, I don’t think so.”
“If you touch me again, I’ll tell your mother exactly the kind of man you are. You think she’d like to know her son forces himself on a woman?”
His brows are hard slashes as he looks at me and I know we’ve drawn the interest of Harrison and Audrey, who are watching not five feet from us. I don’t care. I don’t give a fuck about anything apart from letting this man know what a bastard he is.
“Don’t threaten me, Lottie. You’re not playing games with a little boy anymore.”
“Oh, I’m aware. The boy I knew would never have treated me like that, but then maybe the boy I knew didn’t really exist.”
“Let me make this clear. When I touch you again, Lottie, it will be because you can’t go another second without my touch. In fact, I might just make you beg.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m already there, sweetheart.”
I walk away trying to maintain as much dignity as I can, biting my lip to hide the quiver. I hate that this upsets me so much. The rest of the night I steer clear of Lincoln Coldwell and avoid the gazes of the patrons.
I know why I’m doing this but at times like this I wish I could just run away and forget everything, but I can’t. I have responsibilities and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Eric is my driving force, my reason to keep going and that is what I’ll do.
Fuck Lincoln Coldwell.
I’m changing out of my dress in the locker room when I hear heels clip on the floor and look across to see Audrey Kennedy walking toward me. My stomach trips over and sinks like a stone.
“Violet, do you have a moment?”
“Yes, of course, Miss Kennedy.”
Her smile is kind as she motions for me to sit. “Please, call me Audrey.”
“Okay, Audrey.”
It’s a classy, old-world name that suits the woman beside me. She’s stunning like a Hollywood actress from the golden age.
