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Shit.I wince and adjust myself.
Lincoln never calls me by my last name unless he’s pissed. I’m guessing he watched us—I think that’s one of his secret kinks.
I turn to Link with a shit-eating grin and rub my fingers together in his face like an asshole. They’re still sticky and smell like her sex.
“What’s up, Link?”
His gaze darkens. “The fuck is wrong with you?” Lincoln slaps my hand down.
I smirk. “What? You said you didn’t care what I did with her,” I say. “But if you’re into her, I can back off.”
“I’m not into Little Miss Sunshine,” he snaps. “But you could be a little more subtle about it. Is exhibitionism your new kink?”
I shrug.
His eyes narrow. “How drunk are you? Or are you high?”
“Relax, buddy. I’m not on a binge,” I say with a wink.
Link studies my face before he visibly relaxes.
I’ve had my fair share of trouble with substance abuse in the past, and me falling off the wagon? Well, that’s a hard line for Lincoln. I have no doubt he’d thoroughly kick my ass if he caught me in a full relapse.
Link takes a deep breath, and his signature “no fucks given” expression slides into place.
I smile. “Better. Now, this is a party, so we should probably be having fun.”
Lincoln rolls his eyes. “It looks like you were doing that for the both of us.”
I laugh out loud. “You have no idea. That was unexpected and?—”
“Hot,” Link finishes for me.
We both turn and stare at Charlie Bennett swaying to the music, her hips grinding against Fiona’s ass, and shake our heads.
CHAPTER TEN
CHARLIE
Lincoln cradles Serenity in his arms and carries her down the hallway to what I assume is one of the bedrooms in this ridiculous suite. She’d been hitting on him all night before she finally passed out, though to be honest, he didn’t seem particularly responsive to her, which still confuses me. I catch him watching me a lot. It’s weird.
Why is he always staring?
And then there’s Trey, sprawled out with his legs wide in that sexy way only guys can pull off, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. I glance at his hands—the same hands that gave me an earth-shattering orgasm a couple of hours ago. I shudder and press my thighs together.
Just then, a large body blocks my view, and I look up, annoyed.
“For the love of…” I take a step back when I recognize the tall, dark, and handsome boy standing in front of me. My insides turn to ice as my gaze meets his. He looks a little older—stubble darkening his jaw—but he still has that possessive glint in his eyes that he could barely hide when we were together.
“Hey Char,” my ex-boyfriend, Matthew Johnson, says with a cocky smile.
His voice triggers all kinds of emotions in me—anger, betrayal, heartbreak, and shame. I resist the urge to bolt from the room. He seems to sense my thoughts and steps closer.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe and my heart is pounding. I think I’m going to have a panic attack.
Just before my mom’s suicide, Matt and I were ridiculously in love—childhood friends to lovers—though looking back, there were a lot of red flags.
But one night when my parents threw a party, I caught him fucking another girl in my bedroom. I can still remember walking in, the smell of sex heavy in the air, and seeing his bare ass pounding this girl into my mattress. I was paralyzed in the doorway at first. It felt like he was clawing my heart out of my chest with each pump of his dick. But what really scared me was the unhinged look in his eyes when they met mine.
