She’s pliant in my arms as I drag the warm cloth over her messy pussy, cleaning her up.
“Was that okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, more than okay. I think we both needed it,” she whispers in a sleepy voice.
I toss the rag on the floor and hold her close to my body, inhaling the scent of her hair and enjoying the warmth of her body against mine.
“My bed missed you too,” she says softly.
I fall asleep feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
29
CRISIS & COMFORTS
I absolutely did not wantto wake up this morning. The urge to call out and lie in bed with Lincoln all day was so tempting.
But the man grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me down the bed and all but tossed me in the shower with him.
Mornings aren’t so bad when I get to stare at my hotboyfriendin the shower.
I’m not sure that term fits what me and Lincoln are, but he seems dead-ass set on holding the title, and well, I like that he wants a label on it—even if it’s loose as hell. While I’m absolutely not looking to be with anyone else, it’s still weird since the people closest to us don’t know.
I know he hates it. That he wants to rip the band-aid off and just deal with how our families react. But my insecurities are still holding me back.
I get these glimpses of what our lives look like with one another when we’re alone and it has me ready to take that jump, but then we get around our family, I want to disappear and act like this is all some twisted dream I’m just not waking up from.Which is ridiculous, because not even my wildest imagination could have cooked this up.
“My place tonight? I can pick you up after work and we can go out to eat or just pick something up?” he asks while he washes my shampoo out of his hair.
The idea of him smelling like my lavender shampoo has a smile spreading across my face.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“How are you feeling after last night?” he asks.
He’s rubbing his jaw, and that’s when I see it. I’m not the only one with insecurities in this relationship. Lincoln is always so confident, sure of himself and what he wants. But deep down, he’s scared too.
There’s a deep sinking feeling in my stomach over the fact that I made him feel that way. That I made him think he was unwanted and I hate it.
I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him tight, the warm water spraying against my back.
I think about saying I love you, but fear still holds me back. A piece of my heart has always belonged to Lincoln, but now the whole thing is his. Yet, I still can’t let the words fall off my tongue.
I rest my chin on his chest, looking up at him. His hands are casually resting on my hips, giving me a soft squeeze as he looks down at me.
“Amazing. You’re amazing, Linc,” I say, pressing my cheek against his chest.
One of his hands slides up and cradles the back of my head.
“It took you long enough to figure it out.”
I pull back, my mouth falling open as he gives me one of his wide smiles. “You’re pretty amazing too,” he says, leaning down and peppering my face with kisses, making me laugh.
The promise of my mornings being filled with Lincoln’s smiles and sarcasm has more of my reservations about this relationship slipping away. Letting myself love Lincoln might be the biggest risk I’ve ever taken—but I know it’s too late to turn back now.
Lincoln drivesme to work and, for whatever reason, gets out of the car when I do.
“What are you doing?” I hiss as we approach the office building.
