I quietly get off the bed, placing her book on the nightstand, and move the comforter up over her little body.
“She must have been exhausted, thank you for reading to her. I know she’s completely smitten with you,” Presley comes over, kisses her forehead, turns the light off, and takes my hand. I’d gladly follow her anywhere. “Anytime, she’s the most mature, yet laid back, five-year-old I’ve ever met.”
“That she is, I’m sorry about this evening. Callie usually doesn’t ask me to keep her on a school night, but her parents are at a function, and well, Callie’s boss is a dick at the best of times,” Presley takes her hair out of its holder, her thick long mane of hair glides down, and I do the one thing I’ve been dreaming about for the past twenty-four hours.
My hands slide into her hair and I take what I need most. Her taste on my lips, her tongue tangling with mine, I back her up against the wall, letting her feel every single inch of me.
“Oh god, Lincoln,” she gasps. I dive back in, hating like hell I’m going to leave her once again needy and aching. But, that little girl down the hall, she doesn’t need to walk in on us.
“We have to stop. I hate like hell that I’m putting the brakes on us again, but I promise to make this up to you,” I grunt.
“Okay, but can we have another night together though, soon?” Presley questions.
“That we can and will do, come lock me out before I say the hell with it and not leave,” I take her hand in mine, walking towards the door.
I give her one last passionate kiss before making my way out. Only stopping to make sure I hear the deadbolt lock.
17
Presley
True to Lincoln’s word, he called me every night before I fell asleep and texted me every morning before work, even if it was at four o’clock in the morning.
It’s now Saturday afternoon and except for the one other night he came over when Clairabella was over, it’s basically been phone calls and learning as much as we can about each other. Like right now, he’s getting ready to head into work and I’m about to head to my parent’s.
Lincoln is so much more than I ever expected. Hell, he even asked how Callie and Clairabella were non-stop during the week, not to mention we even Face Timed him while he was at work last night when Bella Bug stayed with me.
“Text me when you get home, and if I have some down time, I’ll call you,” Lincoln says on the other end of the phone.
“I guess I can do that,” I say in a teasing tone.
“Keep that up, gorgeous, and I’ll be over when I get off of work to show you just how much I’m ready to tease you,” his voice is deep and raspy.
“Lincoln,” I moan out, when he talks like he is now it does nothing but make me want him even more.
“I know, God, do I know, Presley.” Lincoln responds.
“I’ll see you tomorrow though, right?”
“Yeah, and Presley?” he questions.
“Yes,” my own voice is husky with need.
“I’m coming for you,” he hangs up and I’m left trying to figure out what he means. I’ve been around Lincoln twice now, and each time I’m left on the verge of coming just from his kisses and the assault he has on my senses.
“Ugh, that man, he’s going to drive me bananas,” I say to my empty kitchen, of course it doesn’t answer back to me. I grab my purse, keys, heading towards Mom and Dad’s house.
It takes me less than ten minutes to get to my old neighborhood. Pulling into the neighborhood Lyla, Callie, and I grew up in brings a smile to my face.
The tree swing my father put up in the front yard is still up, something I know he’ll occasionally push my mother on if the weather is right.
“Mom, Dad?” I question, as I walk through the unlocked front door. I’ve learned my lesson about not announcing my presence before walking in. There is nothing worse than almost walking in on your parents doing things that will need you to bleach your eyes out.
“In here, Pres,” I hear dad say from the kitchen. Today they’re having everyone over for an early dinner.
“Hey,” I say as I walk in. Dad is sitting at the bar in the kitchen fiddling on his tablet, reading glasses perched on his nose, scowling away.
“Hey, Sweet Pea,” mom says from the stove, I go towards her, giving her a hug, and a kiss on her cheek.
“Need any help?” I ask.
“Nope, but if you could steal your dad’s iPad away that would be great. He’s been grumbling for the past twenty minutes,” Mom is awesome, she’s probably where I get my love of teaching from. She’s soft, calm, and nurturing without being too overbearing. Not to mention, I look just like her. Dad always said he was screwed the day the doctor placed me in my mother’s arms. He knew I’d be as gorgeous as Mom, the joke was on Dad though. No boys have ever paid me much attention, until Lincoln.