“Faster,” I yell, needing more. My hips are moving in rhythm with Cheryl’s rock, and so are Lincoln’s.
“Keep rolling your hips,” he demands quietly in my ear. “Each time she moves, rock into my hand and then back against me.” I do as he instructs, and Lincoln rewards me with a kiss to my ear. “Perfect.”
I can’t concentrate after that because I’m aching, needing, and seconds from exploding in a room full of people.
“Lincoln,” I call out, wondering if he knows what this is doing to me.
Or maybe this was his plan all along.
He gives Jimmy some sort of signal. “Hold on, tight, sweetheart.”
Cheryl rocks harder and faster, and this time there’s a twist to her back end. We whip to the right and then back to the left. The movement jostles Lincoln’s hand. I tighten my thighs on Cheryl. Within seconds of the new rhythm, I’m close to screaming. I do my best to control my body, but it’s too late. I fall apart in Lincoln’s arms. My gasps and moans blend into the cheers and chants coming from the crowd.
My hips continue to rock between Lincoln’s arousal and his hand, drawing out my orgasm. Within seconds, I come again, and the pleasure feels so good it hurts. When I can’t take any more, I call out, “Stop. Please, stop.”
Jimmy flicks the switch, and Cheryl slows to a stop. I’m flushed and breathing heavy, and I can’t believe that just happened.
I had an orgasm in front of a room full of people—five of whom are close friends—in a bar, no less. Shit. Pushing a hand through my hair, I look around the room to see if anyone seems to have noticed what just happened.
Lincoln doesn’t immediately release me, and when I wiggle in his arms, he brings his lips to my ear. “Did you just get off?”
Oh God, this is mortifying. I nod.
“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs, flinging himself off of Cheryl.
He gives me a hand to help me down, and when I lift a leg over, he picks me up and swings me into his arms.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking at my friends as we stride right past them.
Abby holds out my purse, and I snag it.
Two words is all he’ll give me. “We’re leaving.” After a moment he adds, “Did you drive?”
“No. I rode with Abby.”
I hear Abby and Emily call after us, but Lincoln keeps walking until we’re at his truck. He opens the door, settles me in the passenger seat, and buckles me in without saying a word. His movements are rushed and jerky as he shuts the door and walks around the front of his truck to climb in.
Did I embarrass him? That’s the only explanation for the way he’s acting right now.
“I’m sorry,” I say, turning in my seat so I can look at him.
Lincoln puts his truck in drive and pulls out the parking lot. “What the fuck are you sorry for?”
I flinch at the hard tone of his voice. “For embarrassing you.”
“Embarrassing me?” Lincoln glances between me and the road. “You didn’t embarrass me.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?” he says, stepping on the gas as we race down the highway.
“This,” I say, motioning toward the road. “Grumpy and in a hurry.”
This time when Lincoln looks at me, he laughs. “I’m not grumpy or embarrassed.”
“You’re not?”
“Fuck no. You just exploded in my arms in a room full of people—I’m horny. I hauled your ass out of there because I’m seconds from blowing a load in my pants like a goddamn teenager.”