Page 51 of Callous Shot

“Thank you. What about you? Same question.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” he muttered, but he settled back in place, his brows pulling together as he thought about my question. “I haven’t thought about what I’d like to do, because my path is set. I’m going into law, whether I want to or not. I’ve been brought up to follow in my parents’ footsteps, and my career path is set.”

From the expression on his face, I could see that the thought of it didn’t appeal to him at all, and my heart went all… I dunno how I could describe it, but it was like a squeezing sensation. Even super-rich, annoyingly sexy, irritatingly talented banes of my existence should be allowed to choose to do something they loved.

I shifted closer, my shoulder pressing against his. It was just for warmth. “If you got to choose. If there were no other factors. What would you pick?”

“Hockey,” he said instantly. “EIHL. Or any overseas league that would have me. Somewhere far away from here would be good.”

My blood literally went cold at his words, icy trickles moving through my veins. If Lincoln wasn’t here, that meant I wouldn’t have a nemesis anymore.

I tugged my lip between my teeth, drawing my hands up inside my hoodie sleeves so he wouldn’t see my fists clench.

“You’d really leave?” I whispered.

“What do I have to stay for?” He closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall with a sigh. “Other than my uncle and cousin… Yeah, I’d miss them, but they have their own lives. It’d probably make their lives less complicated if I wasn’t around.”

“The fuck?” I stared at him. “How would you not being around make it less complicated? What about your parents? They’d miss you. And your friends.”

He laughed, low and with zero humour. I hated it. “Yeah, alright. Whatever. Next question.” His eyes flickered open, but he kept staring up at the ceiling, hiding his expression from me. “Why are you really worried about Operation Foxglove? It’s not all about your friend Attwood, is it? Are you in trouble?”

“You think I’m gonna talk to you about that? The future lawyer? The son of the man who had a vendetta against my dad? You know who my family is. We look out for each other. You and me…we might’ve messed around a bit tonight, but you’re still my enemy. We’re still on opposite sides of the law.”

His jaw clenched, his hands fisting the duvet at his sides. “It’s not— You don’t know anything about my relationship with my fucking parents.”

“Answer me this,” I bit out. “Would you choose to be on my side of the law or the right side? Remember you said it. I’m bad news.”

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

“Just answer the fucking question, Lincoln.”

“Obviously, I’d pick my uncle and cousin, but my parents— It’s not that simple.”

“It is. And that’s why any topic of conversation about anything my family does is off-fucking-limits, okay?”

“Fuck you, Daniel.” His gaze finally met mine, unguarded for once, and his expression was tormented. That made two of us. Fuck him. I’d missed out on that whole emo teenage angsting stage, and Lincoln bellend Bellingham would not trick me into going through a late one. There was only one thing for it. I curved my hand around his nape and pressed my mouth to his.

“That’s it, baby,” I coaxed. “Open up for me.”

He growled under his breath, but his mouth opened, and I took his bottom lip between mine, kissing and nipping it until he was fisting my hoodie and tugging me into him. I released his lip, and our tongues slid together, slow and so fucking delicious, it gave me full-on butterflies.

We ended up lying down, wrapped around each other, kissing, and kissing, and kissing. We were both still a bit skittish about what we’d done earlier, so neither of us attempted to take it any further, but I could feel his big dick pressing against my thigh, and my own, almost-as-impressive erection was insistently hard inside my borrowed shorts. Eventually, I pulled myself away from his ludicrously tempting mouth, because I didn’t want to do something else I may or may not regret in the cold light of day.

“Hockey or lacrosse?” I mumbled into his throat, my mouth drifting lazily over his skin.

“Hmm?”

I drew back so I could see his face. “Back to the questions. You used to play lacrosse. Which do you prefer?”

He blinked his dark lashes at me. “I… Hockey. Lacrosse was something I was good at, and there was no opportunity to play ice hockey while I was at boarding school. I played field hockey for a bit, but…I dunno, I always wished I was on the ice, so it frustrated me. I skated during the holidays, and I got to do a summer training camp with the Cheltenham Storm. It’s something I always loved. I liked lacrosse, and I liked being part of a team, but it wasn’t the same.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I said softly, my fingers sliding over his collarbone so I could play with his zipper, tugging it down a bit so I could see the top of his chest. When all that smooth, tanned skin came into view, my mouth watered a bit. He really was so fucking hot. His arms were covered, so none of his tattoos were on show, and it made me think… “How come you only got tattoos on your arms? Do you want to get them anywhere else?”

“It’s my turn for a question.” He stroked his palm down my back, tugging me into him. Our legs tangled together as I slung my thigh across his, and really, this was far too cosy for two people who were lifelong enemies. But I was way too comfortable to move. “Why did you decide to play hockey?”

“Uh…” Where did I begin? “It wasn’t really my decision? King’s—uh, Ryker’s dad⁠—”

Lincoln huffed out a breath. “You can call him King; I know who you mean. I know you call Jayesh ‘Banks’ too.”