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More than once a day? Holy shit, bring momma some of that, spank you very much.
“Orgasms were just a rumor,” I whisper as Chad gets closer.
Lincoln snorts and I burst out laughing.
“Hey, Violet.” Chad goes to lean in for a kiss but thinks better of it when Lincoln pulls me closer into the safety of his side. He’s got nothing on Lincoln. He’s only about five foot eight and rather puny-looking by comparison. On closer inspection, I notice his hairline is receding.
“It’s good to see you,” he says, eyeing Lincoln's hand positioned around my body.
I wish I could say the same. “Oh, I know. I haven’t seen you in at least, oh, a week.” He was at Xenon last weekend, clubbing. Chad doesn’t dance or go clubbing, but lately he seems to appear at all my usual spots. He’s hunting for a wife. I know he is. I’ve seen his prying eyes around the dance floor. He and his two awful friends, Jeremy—or Jezza as he likes to be called; he’s a jerk-off more like—and then there’s Ryan, who isn’t as bad as Chad and Jezza, but they are all the same. The three of them need wives, stat. To save face for their family businesses and an heir to their daddy's thrones. They all work for daddy but hardly do any work. I work harder than all three of them combined.
“Going for something to eat?” I don’t actually care what he’s doing. I’m being polite.
“Yes, meeting Jezza and Ryan.”
“A throuple? Nice.” Lincoln’s voice is laced with sarcasm, but his face remains stoic.
I have to tuck my lips into my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
Chad frowns. “No, nothing like that.” Chad looks at me as if to say, who is this asshole?
“Forgive my manners.” I lay my hand on Lincoln’s chest. Oh wow, that is firm. He flexes beneath his shirt. He looks down at me and licks his lips. The tension between us is becoming too much to bear.
Why hasn’t he kissed me yet?
“This is Lincoln. Lincoln, meet Chad, Chad meet Lincoln.”
Chad reaches out to shake Lincoln’s hand but instantly regrets it. Lincoln squeezes his hand in an overly firm grip, making Chad wince, but he says nothing.
“Was lovely to meet you, Chad, and I would love to stand and chew the fat with you. But I have somewhere to take my girl.”
My girl.
“Chew the fat?” Chad frowns. “Sounds disgusting.”
“Oh, it’s British for small talk. We don’t have time.” Lincoln promptly guides me to the car.
“Where are you off to?” Chad shouts from behind me.
“Private club,” Lincoln answers.
Are we? How exciting!
I hear Chad grumbling behind us. He’s not happy and probably pissed he didn’t know what chewing the fat meant. He’s a know-it-all and for once he didn’t know it.
“Bye, Chad,” I twitter. “Have a pleasant night with your boyfriends.”
“Good one.” Lincoln chuckles in my ear, sending goosebumps across my skin.
“They are not my boyfriends.” I guarantee he just stomped his foot, toddler tantrum style.
“Bye, Chad.” Lincoln gleefully waves back at him with an overly exaggerated smile.
I love that Lincoln has my back and teases with me.
We have the same sense of humor.
It makes me like him.
