Page 90 of Steady Stroke
“I’ve always been this way. You just awakened the beast within. You helped me be true to myself. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Be right back.”
Lincoln fled the room, then returned fast with a damp washcloth and another towel. He cleaned them both up, taking tender care with Emmett’s butt. Afterward, they curled up beneath the covers, tangled up in each other’s arms. And slept.
Together.
TWENTY
Lincoln’snew favorite thing ever was fucking Emmett—not only because it felt amazing, like every other thing they did together naked, but because Emmett was the most expressive guy who’d ever bottomed for him. Emmett didn’t censor his pleasure or his needs, which led to them fucking two more times between naps, before they finally dragged themselves out of bed around three in the afternoon.
He’d never put much stock in the ideas of fate or soul mates, but goddamn, he was starting to. Everything about him and Emmett fit, from their bodies to their personalities, to the teasing way they washed each other in the shower. Touching and stroking and laughing at accidental elbows to the chest.
Perfect.
There wasn’t much in the fridge, so Emmett volunteered to order a pizza from a good place a block away. He even volunteered to pick it up. Lincoln started to protest that he’d go along, but his head was starting to ache at the base of his neck. Not necessarily a migraine in the making. Probably a lot of it from all of the strenuous activity of the last ten hours or so.
It was enough for him to take a pill and stretch out on the couch with his phone and earbuds. Before he could call up his music app, though, the phone started to ring. He stared, surprised as all hell to see his sister’s name on the screen. He and Mercedes had talked a few times a year before the accident, but she’d called him once a month for the first six months after. Then the frequency died off after one check-in back in April.
He almost didn’t answer it, not wanting anything to intrude on his happy time with Emmett. “Hey, Mercy.”
“Hey, you.” His sister had moved to Boston two years ago with her boyfriend, now fiancé, and she’d already picked up on some of the nasally tones of up north. “How’s everything at the beach?”
“Sunshine and sand, as usual. How’s Boston?”
“Freakishly hot for this time of year, according to everyone at work. How’s your head?”
“Still attached.”
“Always good news. Listen, I can’t chat long. You never RSVP’d for the wedding.”
Lincoln sorted through that statement until it made sense. The wedding invitation had come to him at the Bounds house back in March, and he’d promptly forgotten about it. Not only because of his dizzy spells, but because he hadn’t wanted the family drama. Mercedes getting married meant his parents, and his parents plus him? No way. He hadn’t seen them in eight years, and he didn’t want to see them.
“Can’t make it, sis, sorry.”
She blew a raspberry over the phone. “Bullshit. I bet you don’t even remember when it is.”
“You’re right, I don’t. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t at my best when I got the invitation.”
“Well, it’s next Saturday. And I want you there.”
Next Saturday. One week before Unbound. Hereallydidn’t need the drama. “Will our parents be there?”
“Of course. Dad’s giving me away.”
“Then I can’t go. I can’t be near them.”
“It was eight years ago, Linc. Mom asks me how you’re doing. She still loves you.”
“Don’t care.”
Liar.
A tiny part of him did care that his mother asked about him. That she hadn’t completely written him off like his asshole of a father had.
“Then come to the wedding for me,” Mercedes said. “Please? You’re the only brother I have, and I want you there. You’ve never even met Terry.”
“Who’s Terry?” he asked, simply to be an ass.
