“You know, if I had to guess which one of you was going to be anal about home decor, it wouldn’t have been you.”
“Which one would it have been?” he asks, a smile playing around his mouth.
“Probably Everett. Just because he’s so particular in general.”
Lincoln nods. “That tracks.”
“What do you even keep in the little drawers?” I want to know.
He opens one of them, showing off neatly rolled socks and boxers, when a scrap of something lavender and lacy catches his attention. He pulls it out, and holds it up, and we realize at the same time that they’re a pair of my panties.
It hits me a second later that these aren’t just any panties. These are the ones I was wearing when I hooked up with Cash in the kitchen. They must have gotten mixed up in the laundry or something, and I just haven’t thought about them until now.
My breath catches, and I know my face is burning red. When Lincoln glances over at me, his eyebrow arches. He reads my expression immediately, holding the panties between two fingers and staring at me.
“Are these what I think they are?” he asks.
I lick my lips, the flush rising higher, and nod.
Lincoln nods too, looking more serious now. “I know something happened that night. We basically all do, right? Cash all but confirmed it, but we’ve never talked about specifics.”
That’s partially because the thought of them knowing exactly what went down in the kitchen that night used to make me want to crawl out of my skin. But things are different now. It’s easier to talk about, after they’ve all fucked me during my heat and all the little moments that have passed between us since then. It’s less embarrassing, and all of it feels less off limits than it did before.
I laugh, stalling a little while I figure out how the fuck to say it. But Lincoln just keeps watching me with that steady look, waiting.
I lick my lips again and take a breath. “What do I get if I tell you?”
His lips quirk up in a little half smirk. “I’ll show you exactly what hearing it does to me.”
That makes my breath catch. There’s so much promise in his tone and no small amount of heat. His expression hasn’t changed, but somehow the tension in the room has been cranked up a few notches.
The story comes spilling out of me then. “Well, Cash, um… he put me on the counter, and he dropped to his knees in front ofme. He didn’t even try to take me to the bedroom, and I didn’t argue about it. We just went at it right there in the kitchen.”
“How did he start?”
“He pulled my pants and panties off, and he touched me. He held my thighs open and he seemed like—like he wanted to devour every bit of me. At first, I didn’t think I could come that way, but he was so sure I could.”
I expect Lincoln to ask questions, about why I was struggling to come or something, but instead, he just listens without interrupting. He watches me as I talk, his eyes never straying.
Then he steps back a little, still holding the panties in his hand. He moves to undo his fly and pull his cock out right then and there.
My mouth goes a little dry at the sight of him, and I stumble over my words. But I can’t help it when he starts jerking off, his hand curled around the thickness of his dick, pumping in slow, purposeful strokes. He keeps my panties in his fist, and it can’t feel good to have the cotton and lace rubbing against his dick, but from the way he’s breathing so hard, it seems like he likes it.
His eyes don’t leave mine, and the tension just gets thicker.
“He, uh, kept telling me to let go. To give in to him and let myself feel it. He kept eating me out like he wasn’t going to give up until I came for him.” My voice is breathy now, and I can feel myself getting turned on from the retelling and from the show Lincoln is putting on for me.
The memory of Cash there on his knees is a good one, and now it’s overlayed with Lincoln jerking himself off like this. He grunts low, hips jerking a little as he keeps stroking.
“I—I could feel myself getting closer, but I still didn’t think it was going to happen. I tried to focus on… on what Cash was doing. The way his mouth felt, the way his hands were so solid and strong. And I finally managed to feel what I need to?—”
“Fuck,” Lincoln groans. His eyes flutter shut and his head tips back as he comes in a sudden rush, hips stuttering and jerking and my panties ending up streaked with the messy evidence of his release.
My eyes are wide at the sight, and my pussy is soaked just from watching him. I lick my lips, unable to help myself, squirming in place with need.
Lincoln’s eyes are still on me, and I know he can see how turned on I am. He can read it in the flush on my skin and my body language.
“Dirty girl,” he groans. “I see how that turned you on. Do you feel needy now? Do you want to come?”