Page 46 of Linc

Linc leans down and kisses me solidly on the mouth as I wrap my legs around his waist.

“Gotta say, babe, being beat to shit by you is more of a turn-on than I would have imagined.”

“You don’t have to say it. I can feel it.” I roll my hips into his erection.

He lets out a low groan and grinds into me, kissing me senseless.

Suddenly, a car horn sounds, and both of us look over at a woman pulling up in a minivan with a disapproving scowl on her face.

“Busted,” he laughs out, popping to his feet and holding out a hand to help me up.

I swipe at the grass all over my back side, and Linc comes around to inspect.

“Missed a spot,” he says, grabbing a handful of my ass.

Looking over to the minivan now parked in the lot, I see a bunch of kids piling out and the woman standing next to the door with her arms crossed over her chest, giving us the stink eye.

“We should probably get out of here before she calls the police on us for indecent exposure or something.”

Linc looks over at her and laughs. “You’re probably right. There’s definitely nothing decent about what I want to do to you right now.” He grabs me again and kisses me deeply. “One more for the road.”

We make our way back to the bike sweaty and happy.

“Feel like grabbing some food?” he asks as we settle onto the bike.

“Sure,” I reply. “Especially if dessert is involved.”

“Dessert is always involved.” He turns his head and wiggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Perv.” I smack his chest.

“And proud.”

The roar of the engine drowns out the retort on my tongue as we head back into town. Linc pulls up to a tiny local diner that looks like it dates back to the sixties, complete with checkered floors, red vinyl booths, and those little jukeboxes on each table.

“Hey, Linc. Anywhere you want,” the waitress calls from behind the counter.

We settle into a booth near the back of the diner before the only waitress in the place brings us a couple menus and a cup of coffee for Linc.

“What’ll you have to drink?” she asks me.

“Coffee, too, please.”

She turns to Linc. “You having your usual?”

He nods. “Two, please.”

When the waitress walks away, I shoot him a glare.

“Um, excuse you. I’m perfectly capable of ordering for myself. What if I don’t like whatever your usual is?”

“Trust me, Charlie bear.”

“I thought I vetoed that one?”

“Thought I’d give it another shot.” Linc shrugs a shoulder and winks.

The man is impossible.

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