Page 79 of Bourbon and Secrets

I’ve never understood why having someone’s attention while I dance is so empowering, but it is. There are so many ways to paint it ugly if someone wanted to, but truthfully, it just feels good. I smile at the man who tossed out the idea. “I might need a drink first.”

Hadley hands me a glass with one rock and at least two fingers of bourbon. The tawny color is a few shades lighter than the bottle I tasted with Lincoln, but I want a sip, nonetheless. As I move to take it from her, an arm comes from behind me—the smell of oak and tart cherries has me ready to lean into the arms I already know wrap so beautifully around my body, even before he plucks my glass from my hand. Lincoln clears his throat before addressing the small crowd around the dimly lit patio. “Faye actually prefers another way to drink her bourbon.”

I tilt my head back to see him and, dammit, I can’t help but smile at what he’s insinuating. The way his long sleeves are pushed up, revealing the start of his tattoo that dips just below the curve of his elbow, has me holding back a groan ofappreciation. I know that tattoo. Where it curves and how it ends. The window panes that are beautiful and still unfinished and that hold so much meaning. Add how his dimples are pinned even as he goes in for a sip from the glass that was just mine, and I’m basically swooning.

I take it back before his lips reach the glass.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the women who had been talking along the gates during the rodeo—the insinuation that if she wanted him, she could have him.I don't think so. Right now, Lincoln Foxx is mine.

I do well with an audience and I’m feeling bold—and slightly petty.

I step away from the heat of Lincoln’s body, standing so close behind me, and turn to him, raising my glass. “This actually tastes like the 1910, but maybe you can tell me for sure, Foxx.”

He smirks at me as I walk toward Hadley, still perched on the bar.

I give her a wink when I say, “I had a private tasting at the distillery...”

When I turn back to look at Lincoln, the way that man is looking at me...it’s like he wants to devour me and taste me all over again. I crook my finger at him in a come-hither motion as I strut slowly toward the center of the room.

Hadley turns up the music and the girls from earlier shift their weight, leaning to get a better view of what’s going on.Oh, ladies, just you wait...

When Lincoln follows my direction and comes closer, he leans into my space and, just below my ear, whispers, “You’re so fucking sexy right now. Are you about to show all these people that I’m yours, Peach?”

It’s a resounding yes from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers. I peer back and move my head up and down slowly, letting him know that’sexactlywhat I’m about to do.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, a little louder.

He chuckles, a sound I feel between my legs, and looks around the space. “Yeah, Peach, I do.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but his affirmation urges me on. I tilt my chin up and smirk at him before I say, “Good. On your knees, Foxx.”

The hoots and hollers that direction gets from around the space makes me bite my lip to hold back a wide smile. And even then, a small one still escapes.

Hadley whistles and throws a pillow from the bar stool, nailing him right in his face, making him bark out a laugh.

He’s so much taller than I am that even as he lowers to one knee, and then the other, he’s just shy of eye-level with me. “If you all want a burlesque show, then you can come to Midnight Proof and be a paying customer. But right now”—I can’t help the smile that teases out as I look down at Lincoln. He watches me as I address the little audience we’ve gathered—“we’re at Foxx Bourbon. And I’ve had the luxury of a master distiller showing me exactly how best to appreciate good bourbon.”

His eyes lock with mine, and he huffs out a laugh, knowing exactly what I’m planning.

“Tilt the glass and take note of the color.” I tilt my glass into the light from the fire tables surrounding the space. “Then you’re going to want to give it a nice little Kentucky chew.” Taking a small sip, I swirl it around my mouth. A few whistles sing out from the small crowd as his hands run up the backs of my thighs and settle just beneath the hem of my dress, leaving delicious goosebumps behind.

I erase whatever space is left between us as I nudge the lower half of my body into his chest, his hands dragging up and down the backs of my thighs, pulling me in and encouraging me to get even closer. I take a breath through my nose and swallow.“Let her coat your mouth, maybe even enjoy that burn a little bit before she feels ready to slide down your throat.”

The mood shifts from rowdy conversation to the kind of sexy I get off on. I glance at the two women who had no problem talking about all the things they want to do with this man, and I smile at their wide eyes.

I let my eyes flit from them down to him. “Ready for your tasting, Foxx?”

His dimples peek out from his quick smile, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts his head back just as I slide my hand behind his neck. My fingers graze his hairline, moving them high enough to tangle and find a grip. I tilt the glass against my lips, drain what’s left of the bourbon, then tip his head back just how I want it.

His arms hug around my thighs as the spice and heat hit my tongue, and then his mouth opens for me just as I tilt forward. Erasing the space between our lips, I give him exactly what I promised—a taste of bourbon. But he doesn’t stop the momentum. His plush, wet lips meet mine and it lights every fuse in my body. I ignore the drips that escape down my chin and the crowd around us that was quiet mere moments before our lips connected erupts in hoots and whistles. I’m lost in the way he didn’t shy away from making a scene. And the fact that this will have plenty of people talking about it long after we leave.

He swallows down every drop I give him, and then makes sure not a single person misinterprets what we’re doing together. His tongue plays with mine as he tilts his head back and pulls me as tightly against his kneeling body as possible.

It’s why I don’t expect him to stand so quickly and hoist me up and over his shoulder. A screaming laugh escapes my mouth as he says, “If you’ll excuse us.” Then he’s walking us through the house and right out the front door. I barely catch who we walk by, but I don’t miss the way Maggie stares at the spectacle. Shewas talking with Griz and the barrel racer from earlier. I hear Griz call out, “’Bout damn time!”

Lincoln tilts his chin to Griz and mumbles under his breath, “Old man thinks he’s a damn matchmaker.”

He hustles down the porch stairs, and I can’t help but laugh as he slaps my ass when his boots hit the pavement. “You can put me down now.”

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