Page 25 of It Takes a Thief
Oh, God, I want him to touch me. I wish for those big hands to slide over my body and explore places no one has before. I move my hand beneath the sheet, slowly trailing it downward, and lightly touch myself. Images of Linc fill my head as I gently and intimately caress between my legs.
My breathing picks up and I slide my panties aside, running my fingers down my seam then up and around my throbbing clit. I’m soaked and aching. It doesn’t take long to bring myself to release, but the entire time I’m wishing it were Linc’s fingers. His big, thick, long fingers sinking deep inside me…
A soft moan escapes my mouth and my other hand curls into the sheets. When sleep finally comes, I don’t have nightmares. I’m too busy dreaming about Linc and all the wicked things I want him to do to me.
∞∞∞
Morning arrives and I stretch, glance over at the sun shining between the parted curtains and remember the big man downstairs. My bodyguard. I also think over all the events of yesterday and make a decision—I can’t be cooped up in here for the next two weeks. I need to get out and enjoy the city before I have to leave it. Do something fun and exciting. Because, at this point, I’ve pretty much come to accept I won’t be meeting Mr. Right before I have to leave NYC.
My mind drifts to Mr. Right Now, though, and I know exactly what I want to do. I just hope I can convince Linc.
After washing up in my bathroom, I pull a comfy robe over my short nightgown, step into my fluffy slippers and head downstairs. The smell of coffee fills the air, which is unexpected considering my machine has been broken for months. I head straight to the kitchen, wondering if he ran out to a coffee shop.
Linc sits at the small table, sipping coffee from a mug.
I glance over at my formerly dead Nespresso machine, cocking my head. “You fixed it?”
“Sure did. Gotta have my caffeine. And since I wasn’t leaving you, and you clearly like to sleep in, I fixed it. This is my third cup.”
The clock on the stove shows it’s not quite eight AM. “Sleep in?” I echo and make my way over to the counter. “It was still dark ten minutes ago.”
He chuckles. “I get up at dawn.”
“Why?” I don’t mean to sound so horrified, but I’m not sure why anyone in their right mind would choose to get up that early.
“Old habits die hard. I used to get up at four to train.”
“FourAM?” I squeal.
“I don’t need much sleep.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I like to work out early then drink my first cup of coffee outside on my patio. Enjoy my view of the mountains and the peace and quiet before the world wakes up.”
I pop a pod into the machine, considering his words. “As nice as that sounds, I can’t come to terms with getting up that early every day.”
He smirks. “It’s not for everyone.”
“Thank you for fixing this. I’ve been walking down to the corner coffee shop every morning.”
“No problem.”
Once my frothy caffeine goodness finishes brewing, I walk over and sit down at the table. I don’t want to start the morning off on the wrong foot, but I need to make my wishes clear. “As you know, I have thirteen days left in New York. I’ve come to terms with the sad truth that I’m not going to be in an instalove story. But I don’t plan on spending it locked up in here either.”
When he doesn’t comment, I lift my chin.
“I will be going out and doing things.”
No response.
“I understand you’ll be with me—as my bodyguard,” I add quickly. “So, I’m not worried.”
He takes a long drink of his coffee, and I shift in my seat. Why isn’t he fighting me on this? Or saying anything?
“I’ll go crazy sitting here all day.”
“I get it,” he finally says, eyeing me closely. Intently.
“You do?” I seriously thought he was going to keep me locked up in this tower like Rapunzel.
“I’m not a completely unemotional bastard.” He hesitates, circling a finger on his mug. “I’m hoping I don’t regret this, but I thought it might be fun to go to the fight tonight.”
