When he squeezes my breast, I jolt and break our kiss.
Lincoln immediately yanks his hand back. “Too much?” he questions, his breath fanning over my lips.
Is it too much?I’m not sure. I can’t remember the last time a single kiss left me shaking. What is this man doing to me?
Mentally, I shrug the feeling off. Then I wag my head, guiding Lincoln’s hand back to my sensitive boobs. “No. It’s good. Don’t stop.”
I loop an arm around his neck, greedily drawing him back in.
I’m ravenous, kissing, nipping, and grabbing him all over. And even though I know he hates me, it all turns me on like nothing else ever has. I lose all sense of time, not interested in anything other than the taste of Lincoln’s tongue as our kiss intensifies in this dark hideaway.
I only sink deeper under his spell when he jams his amazingly muscular thigh between mine. Arousal rolls through me, electrifying every hair follicle. I’m shamelessly rubbing myself against him. Right in my best friend’s kitchen in the middle of her housewarming party.
What the hell am I doing?a voice in my head asks.Whatever. I’m not answering that.
Somewhere outside the pantry door, I hear voices. My heart leaps into my throat. Panting, Lincoln leans back, breaking the kiss.
“I’m sure you could grab some clean clothes from your brother’s closet,” a woman’s voice suggests. “Easton wouldn’t mind, would he?”
“Jeez. It’s just a little vodka,” a male voice responds. “I don’t need a change of clothes just because I spilled a little vodka on my shirt.”
“You’re completely drenched. Would you go find a clean shirt before you end up catching pneumonia or something?”
“You sound ridiculous. That’s not how pneumonia works.” The man says. He’s trying to sound annoyed but the amusement in his voice is clear. “Admit it. You’re just trying to get me to take off my shirt.”
The woman erupts into chortles. “I have enough trauma to last a lifetime, Oliver Raines. I don’t need to add your bushy chest hair to the list of nightmares that wake me up in the middle of the night.”
His chuckle dances on the air. “Oh, please, Chloe-licious. You’d be all over my chest hair if I let you.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she says rather unconvincingly. “You wish.”
Oliver speaks again, his voice going completely serious. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go change my shirt if you let me install those security cameras at the bar.”
“I don’t need security cameras at the bar,” Chloe protests.
“Yes, you do. You close that place up alone every weekend. With all those creepy drunks lurking around. I worry about you.”
“Don’t.”
“Chloe.”
“Oliver.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“It’s fine.”
“Look. Am I gonna have to quit my job and move to Fairy Bush to sit around and babysit you at the bar every Saturday night? Because I will.”
She stomps her foot and growls. “Ugh. Whatever. Install the damn cameras. You’ll see that it’s a waste of time.”
I hear the victorious smile in Oliver’s voice when he says, “Thank you.”
“Butthead.” I imagine Chloe sulking. “Now, lead the way to Easton’s closet.”
Oliver and Chloe continue to tease each other as their voices fade to the other side of the house. When they’re gone, Lincoln releases his firm grip on my waist. My whole body wants to cry. I immediately reel him right back in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I scold, muttering against his swollen lips.
