Page 82 of Mark & Don't Tell

“Well, I’ve been dying to try these.” I pull out a pair of panties that were coincidentally my exact size—Vic told Lincoln, I’m sure. The lacy material is seemingly innocent, except for the clit teaser, much like the one on the vibrator, sewn into the crotch.

“Ohhhh, Dylan would love these.”

I snort. “What, the locker room wasn’t public enough? He’ll want to get you off at dinner?”

Her cheeks flame.

Studying my friend for a whole minute, I try to reconcile the sweet omega I met in college with the vixen before me. “Oh my god! Quinn! You’re so naughty.”

“It’s not me! It’s Dylan.”

I snort. “Please, you like it as much as he does.”

She presses her lips together, refusing to deny that, because it’s true. My quiet, shy BFF is totally into public play.

“When are you going to use them?” she asks.

“I was thinking soon.” Friday, to be exact. The card Lincoln put in the bag had strict instructions to wear these. The remote is nowhere to be found, which means he has it. Our date on Friday is definitely going to be torture.

But I can’t help thinking I’ll love it.

Twenty-Nine

KAI

Usually, I love getting out of town for a few days, but this trip was hell. Between Daria starting at Good Vibes and not being able to see her and what happened between Lincoln and Ryan, I feel like I never should have gone.

I shift through the crowd at the airport, quickly heading to the pickup area with my two carry-ons. Vic leaning against his truck is a welcome sight for a lot of reasons, but most importantly, for the reminder that he stepped up when Lincoln needed someone. Vic still cares about his pack, and that’s the only win of the week.

“How was your flight?” He pushes off the passenger door and grabs my bags, securing them in the bed.

“Fine. How is Linc?”

Sighing, Vic nods at the truck. I climb in as he goes around and settles in behind the steering wheel. “Keeping it together while burying it all inside. He thinks it’s his fault.”

“I tried to call Ryan, but he’s not answering.”

“That’s not surprising. Desgraciado.”

I grimace but don’t disagree. “Five hundred thousand dollars? Really?”

Vic scoffs. “And when he didn’t get it, he said all that horrible shit to Linc.”

Although we don’t say it out loud, it’s obvious who might’ve had that influence over Ryan. What hurts the most is that we all love him. He’s our son, but he’s been hurting Lincoln—and us—for too long.

“Is Linc at home?”

Vic nods. “I ordered some food for us.”

Sighing, I rest my head back and close my eyes. Even though I hate knowing I’m going to have to voice my thoughts, this has been a while coming. We need to distance ourselves from Ryan. Put up some boundaries. We’ll be there to help him if there’s a serious emergency, and we’ll always welcome him if he has good intentions, but something has to change.

As Vic parks in our six-car garage, I grab my suitcases, carrying them inside and setting them beside the stairs before venturing into the kitchen, where Lincoln waits with food and a bottle of rye.

“Hey, Linc.” I pat him on the shoulder and drop into the seat beside him.

“Hey,” he says, frowning at his drink.

Vic takes the seat across the table and pulls the bags of food toward him. “I ordered you the red curry.”

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