Page 50 of Taking What's Mine

They approach us, hands linked. Vera’s crimson lips curl in a lazy grin as her gaze travels over Lincoln and me. “You two look so tense,” she purrs, leaning forward as if sharing a secret. “We thought you might like to… loosen up.”

Trey slides his free hand over my shoulder, letting his fingertips brush the bare skin there. “The night’s just getting started,” he adds softly, voice edged with a dare.

My pulse jumps at his touch, and I sense Lincoln stiffen beside me. A low, possessive sound rumbles from his chest—a near-growl that sends a jolt through me. This moment is precisely why we came under the guise of a couple who’s “open to new experiences,” but the reality is dizzying, especially with Lincoln’s tension radiating like a live wire.

Still, we have a role to play. If we recoil now, Trey and Vera might take offense or suspect we’re not who we claim to be. They’re close to Morris, after all; we can’t risk losing any chance to gather intel. So I place a reassuring hand on Lincoln’s chest, silently telling him to hold it together.

“We’re… interested,” I say, mustering a confident smile. My voice quivers slightly, but the music and chatter hopefully drown out any tremor. “What did you have in mind?”

Vera’s eyes gleam. She glances over her shoulder at a cluster of low couches in a dimly lit corner of the room. “How about something to drink first, to help everyone relax?” Her gaze flicks to Trey, who inclines his head in agreement. “Then maybe we see how we all… mesh.”

Lincoln’s arm tightens around me, a subtle warning. But aloud, he nods. “Fine. A drink sounds good.”

Trey directs us toward a quiet alcove where a small table holds an assortment of exotic-looking bottles. Soft cushions and plush chairs form a loose semicircle around it, and several couples are already there—chatting, leaning into each other, letting hands wander under the faint glow of candlelight. There’san undercurrent of uninhibited sensuality that sets my skin tingling.

I settle beside Lincoln on one of the cushioned benches. Vera and Trey take the seat opposite us, and a server appears as if by magic, pouring amber liquor into crystal glasses. The aroma is sweet and spicy, laced with something I can’t identify—perhaps an infusion of herbs for “liquid courage,” I think wryly.

Vera lifts her glass, eyes dancing between Lincoln and me. “To new experiences,” she toasts, her silky voice practically wrapping around the words.

We clink glasses, and I take a tentative sip. The flavor burns pleasantly down my throat, leaving a heated trail behind. Lincoln downs his, jaw still tight, though he angles himself closer to me on the cushions. Trey and Vera exchange knowing glances.

“So,” Trey says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. The overhead light catches the sharp angle of his cheekbones. “You two have been around a bit, but I get the sense you’re… new to these deeper waters. Right?”

I force a teasing smile. “We like to explore, but we’re still finding our footing.”

Vera trails a hand along the neckline of her gown. “Don’t worry, we’re not pushy.” She slides a half-lidded glance at Lincoln, then at me. “But if you want to join the fun—tonight’s the perfect place.”

The gentle strains of music from another room waft over us, mingling with the rhythmic pulse of desire that seems to fill the air. I catch sight of a couple on a nearby chaise lounge, lockedin a deep, leisurely kiss, hands roaming. The scene is undeniably erotic, and I feel the passion of it seeping into my own blood.

Trey shifts, leaning in until he’s close enough that his hand grazes my knee. “We could start slow,” he murmurs, voice low, “unless you two prefer to dive in headfirst?”

Lincoln bristles beside me, and I sense the surge of protective jealousy in every taut muscle of his body. But he plays his part, managing a throaty laugh that sounds almost genuine. “We’re good with slow,” he says, sliding a hand up my arm in a show of possession. “Right, darling?”

My heart hammers at the pet name—both from the pretense of it and the underlying truth. “Slow is fine,” I echo, taking another sip of the liquor.

Vera smiles, then shifts closer, one hand brushing against my arm in a featherlight caress. “You’re tense, Isabel,” she whispers. “Let go a little. You’ve got your husband right here. You can trust him, right?”

A spark of nervous excitement flares in my core. I shoot Lincoln a quick look, letting my gaze linger on his lips before meeting his eyes. “Yeah,” I murmur. “I trust him.”

Then Vera leans in, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. Her fingertip trails a path down my neck, and my breath catches. I can almost feel Lincoln’s gaze burning through the side of my face. But we asked for this—didn’t we?

Trey lifts a hand to hover near my other shoulder, not quite touching but close enough that I feel the warmth of his presence. “We can just enjoy each other’s company,” he says quietly, “see how the night unfolds.”

Lincoln’s arm slides fully around my waist, pulling me snug against his side. His voice is tight but controlled. “We don’t share easily,” he warns, eyes flicking pointedly to Trey’s hand.

A small thrill runs through me at Lincoln’s possessiveness, despite the precarious scenario. Vera notices too, a sly grin curving her lips. “Possessive, huh?” she teases. “We like that.”

I swallow, suddenly very aware that we’re straddling a razor edge. We have to maintain the illusion that we’re comfortable in this world—keep Vera and Trey happy enough to remain allies. But if I show too much reluctance, we’ll blow our cover. If Lincoln shows too much aggression, same deal.

So, I force myself to relax into his hold, letting out a controlled breath. “We’re still learning boundaries,” I say, offering a small, apologetic laugh. “Tonight’s… new territory.”

Vera’s gaze softens. “I get it,” she says, glancing at Trey. “We’ll take it easy. Just a little closeness, yeah?” She leans nearer, the scent of her perfume wrapping around me as she lifts a hand and brushes her fingertips over my collarbone.

Lincoln tenses, but to his credit, he doesn’t pull me away. I tilt my head, allowing the touch while scanning Trey’s expression. He’s watching with rapt focus, mouth curved in a slow smile. The air between us hums with tension, the promise of something both electrifying and dangerous.

I feel Trey’s hand settle lightly on my shoulder, and Vera shifts close enough for a gentle brush of her lips at the base of my neck—more a whisper than a kiss. My pulse thrums so loudly I can’t hear the music anymore. If I glance up, I know I’ll meet Lincoln’s gaze, see that smolder of jealousy, and maybe desire. There’s aheady power in realizing I have him at my side, while two near-strangers try to entice us into something more.

For a moment, I can’t help but wonder if Morris is watching. If he is, does he see a devoted couple open to new experiences, or does he sense the underlying tension? The question flickers through my mind like a warning.

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