Page 85 of Mark & Don't Tell

“What if he calls?” Vic asks.

Sighing, I shrug. “I guess we accept the call and find a way to make the boundaries clear. Let him know we love him and that we will be there if he really needs us, but his words and actions hurt, and until we can find a way to work past that, we won’t stay or put ourselves in situations where he can continue to cause pain like that.”

Linc is looking at me, but I can’t get a read on what he’s thinking or feeling.

“We’re not abandoning him,” I say quickly. “We’re limiting his access to us, because every time he sees you, he cuts you down. It has to stop, Linc.”

Nodding, he swipes at his cheeks. “Boundaries only. We’re still there if he needs real help.”

“Real help, like he’s suffering. Not like he needs five hundred grand to meet his investing goals,” Vic clarifies.

Linc nods again, shoulders sagging in defeat. I’m so frustrated with Ryan, and I hope that, one day, he’ll find a way to get over his anger, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s no longer an option.

Thirty

DARIA

The days I spent at Good Vibes were so fun, but it was nice to work with Jane at Moon & Rock again. It’s been two days since I saw Ryan, and my stomach is still swimming with unease as I get ready for date night with Lincoln. Three more days. That’s all I want. Three more days of pretending like my pack can really be mine. With that in mind, I shove all thoughts of my ex aside and finish getting ready.

My curls, freshly styled this morning with my forty-five minute routine—I’m not playing around with frizz—still look great. I trade out my work outfit for a cute strappy green dress that shows more cleavage than is probably decent, but big titties are going to big titty. I check in the mirror for panty lines, surprised to find that the vibrating underwear appears seamless. Keeping my makeup fresh and light, I grab my beige chunky heels and strap them on before checking myself out once more.

The dress isn’t super tight across my middle but rests softly over it, accentuating the curves without choking them, just the way I like it. My heels pair perfectly with the dress, giving it a bit of edge, combined with a whimsical sort of vibe. The collar Vic gave me is a cute accessory, and I run my finger over the soft leather.

“I’d definitely fuck myself,” I tell the mirror, and I’m not lying. One thing about me is I’m always going to love myself, because I’ve spent way too long waiting for someone else to feel the same.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I turn away from my reflection to grab it.

LINC

Your chariot awaits, princess.

I prefer Audis.

Then, you’re in luck.

My mouth dropping open, I rush to grab my things, slipping out through the fire escape again, accidentally scraping my shoulder on a brick. I growl in frustration. One of these days, I’ll use the stairs like a normal person, but I’m evading the rent police until I get paid.

The metal groans and trembles. I’m used to it now, so it doesn’t slow me down. My heels crunch on the broken concrete in the alley once I step off the fire escape. I pause to take a breath, smoothing my dress and scowling at the little angry red lines on my shoulder. At least there’s no blood.

Strutting out of the alley like I’m walking out of the lobby of a Ritz-Carlton, I make my way over to the shiny, pearl-white Audi RS 7.

“Holy shit, that’s a pretty car,” I mutter to myself.

Linc climbs out, immediately coming around to greet me, his jaw dropping when he sees that my dress hits mid-thigh. “Woooow,” he says, taking me in, eyes roving over every inch of flesh.

Unable to help myself, I do the same to him, practically groaning when I see the forearm porn he’s rocking. The sleeves of his black-and-white checkered shirt are rolled up, revealing muscles and veins galore—that shit should be illegal. His jeans mold to his thick thighs in a way that should be considered dangerous, especially with the way the crotch practically cradles his dick.

There’s no way anyone would ever think he’s small. Linc is a big boy in every sense of the word.

I tip my head back when he stops in front of me on the sidewalk.

His gaze roams over my face and he smiles. “You look horrible.”

“So do you,” I say without missing a beat. “Ugly as hell.”

Chuckling, he places his finger under my chin and drops his mouth to mine, claiming my lips and the soft gasp that slips out of me. Lincoln’s kiss is a slow kindling, the sweeps of his tongue over mine enough to ignite the embers of desire but not enough to burn me alive.

He breaks away and looks me in the eye. “Hey, bunny,” he says, voice gruff.

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