A Billionaire's Mistake

11|Wine

Chapter Eleven: Wine

Sienna

"Okay, but you're still avoiding the details," Carmen snaps as she pops another Cheeto into her mouth. She's sitting on my wrap-around couch beside Riley, all of our faces plastered with a mask of some sort that Riley swore would make us glow like never before.

I take another sip from my wine and shrug. "There's nothing to tell."

"Really," she deadpans. "You're going to tell me that you went upstairs together last night and nothing happened? That's bullshit, Sienna."

"It is weird," Riley adds.

Turning to my side, I roll my eyes and say, "Why are you so interested in my love life? Stop living vicariously through me and go have some fun of your own." It's a low blow, but at this point, I'll say anything to have them stop asking about Lincoln. I'll sell my soul to stop thinking about the way his hands felt, and about what that meant that I wanted them on me. "Riley, it's been...what, three years since you've had a girlfriend?"

"The dating scene is terrible," she says defensively.

"And Carmen?" I arch a brow. "It seems like you need to get laid the most to me since you can't stop talking about sex for crying out loud."

She grins. "Who says I haven't met someone?"

Practically choking on my wine, I set it down on the glass coffee table and gawk at her, Riley mirroring the same expression. "Um, what? Why am I just now hearing about this? Who are they? Where did you meet them?"

The anticipation is suddenly making me hungry, so I grab the bowl of Cheetos from Carmen and begin to shove my mouth full as I wait for an explanation. Riley grabs a handful from the bowl too.

Carmen glances at Riley. "Remember when we did the arrangements for the banquet at the police station?" Riley nods. "I met him when I did the delivery. We hit it off, and we've been talking ever since."

"That was like, a month ago," Riley points out.

Carmen purses her lips. "It's progressing slowly between us. We're both so busy, so we haven't found the time to go out together yet."

"In a month you haven't made time for a simple lunch date?" I ask.

"He's suggested it..." Carmen heaves out a sigh and gulps her wine down. "I'm nervous, okay? We stay up until like three in the morning sometimes on the phone, and it's just...easy, between us. I'm not ready to go on a date because what if it goes terribly?"

Riley and I exchange glances, seeming to be thinking the same thing. Carmen has never been nervous about a man since I've known her. She's the free-spirited, happy-go-lucky, not-a-care-in-the-world type of girl. Sleeping with someone on the first date has never bothered her, so for her to be in shambles about going out for lunch with someone signifies that this is serious. Her heart's in it.

"He's already met you in person," I tell her. "And obviously he was attracted to you. If it's really that easy on the phone, then odds are it'll be like that in person as well. You're never going to know if you don't try."

Carmen stands from the couch, adjusting her floral head wrap before she says, "you should take your own advice. I'll meet when I'm ready, but for now, just know that I'm not asking for details about your sex life for you, but for me. I'm dying a slow death from being celibate for so long."

"All that talking on the phone and no phone sex?" I tease. Riley giggles.

"Ha-ha," she replies in a high-pitched voice, "very funny, but no, not yet. I've gotta get going though. It's Monday tomorrow, so that means I have to be up super early."

Riley stands and nods. "Me too."

They both head into the bathroom to wash their faces off as I gulp down the remaining wine in my glass. A random lifetime movie is playing in the background about a husband cheating on his wife with the babysitter. I get sucked into it for a few minutes until they both return and give me a little wave.

"Carmen!" I call out. She whips her head around and I can see how tempted she is to roll her eyes when she sees the smile on my face. "Are you going to tell us his name?"

Her lips twitch before she replies, "Archer."

And then Muggles comes around the corner and hisses at both of them, causing Carmen to jump ten feet into the air. "Fucking Muggles!" she shrieks, then they're out the door.

***

It's ten o'clock on a Sunday night, and I can't get Lincoln Nash off my mind. This has to be the fourth lifetime movie I've watched, but no matter what sexy hero acted on screen, the feel of his knee between my legs wouldn't leave my mind. The dirty words he whispered into my ear, the way he made me feel completely in control and yet dominated all at once. He didn't even touch me. I used him, and he loved every second of it.

Lincoln is a hell of a man, and so much different than Reed. Lincoln is big and muscular like a linebacker, whereas Reed is lean like a swimmer. I'm not sure what exactly the biggest difference is between them, but Lincoln made me feel safer and more protected in those minutes up in my office than Reed ever did.

The more I watch, it seems to be having the opposite of the intended effect. Every romantic affection the actor displays, his face is replaced with Lincoln's.  My mind wanders to all of the possibilities that could happen with him if I did decide to use him. I wonder what it'd feel like to have him take me from behind, how big of a cock he has, how it'd feel pulsing and throbbing inside of me. I wonder what it'd be like to have control over him.

Oh, god. I fast forward through the sex scene.

I want to see those tattoos of his on full display. I want to see all of those rippled muscles that pair with his massive, veiny hands. I want his sweaty body on top of me, and that's terrifying. I've never wanted someone like this before, not even Reed. Not since...

I shudder at the memory.

If I did agree to this arrangement between Lincoln and me, I'm terrified of how much I'll enjoy it. He made me come harder than I ever have before without even touching me. I used his leg and climaxed from that dirty mouth of his to the point I couldn't even think straight. If we were to have sex...

I look at the coffee table, then my kitchen counters, then the large mahogany dining room table in the open concept of my townhome thinking of Lincoln buried inside of me on every surface. The thoughts make me set the remote down, and before I know it, I'm trailing my fingers underneath the band of my pajama shorts, past my underwear, right to the bud of nerves that I know will send me spiraling over the edge.

I actually giggle at the sensation of my fingers touching myself, at how ludicrous I am for doing this to the thought of someone, which I've never done before. I haven't touched myself in years. Not even when I was with Reed. I told him I wanted to wait until marriage. He thought I was a virgin. He thought that was cute. He had no idea what happened to me before I moved here, and I don't plan on ever telling him.

But Lincoln...

Oh, god.

Lincoln.

I let out a breath as I picture his head between my thighs, how it might feel to have his tongue there, a place that only a few have been before. Something tells me that Lincoln would be the best at it. He'd know just where to lick, just where to kiss, and If those blue eyes of his stared up at me from between my legs...I'd come harder than I had last night.

Whimpering from the pleasure I'm giving myself, I feel the wetness accumulating, and the sensation is foreign. Just like it was foreign when Lincoln felt it last night, too. I haven't gotten wet in...eight years. He doesn't understand what a breakthrough he gave me, and I'm trying to understand myself how he was able to give me that while knowing him for such a short amount of time.

The release was mind-blowing. So many pent-up emotions exploded out of me last night, and afterward, I felt...relaxed. So relaxed. I was safe, and protected, and...

Lincoln.

He's all I can think about as I attempt to bring myself another mind-blowing orgasm.