That Girl (That Girl, #1)(34)

Placing a hand on Lincoln’s tanned and stubbled jaw line, I say, “I had fun today. Lots of fun, and I like Jewels a lot. I want to try, and I think I’d be okay if I sit with Jewels at your game. I want to see you with your teammates playing the game you love. I promise I’ll plant my feet on the ground for the whole four quarters.”

“I want that,” he replies.

“Me, too. Now let’s get back to my room. We have some business to take care of.”





Chapter 11





Falling at 1,014 Miles



“Lincoln, the coach will be calling you any minute. Wake up,” I urge, trying to shake the beast of a man asleep in my bed.

We grabbed ice cream and Red Box after the barbecue and hung out on my bed tangled in each other’s limbs and lips for a couple hours before we both fell asleep. He passed out watching his shoot ‘em, kill everything movie, and I followed moments later listening to his iPod. We knew we only had about four hours together before he had to get to the dorms to check in. His first game is only seven days away.

Desperation sets in, so I speak louder. “Lincoln, wake your ass up.”

“Mmmm,” he groans.

“C’mon, Lincoln,” I beg, giving him another shake.

“I want to stay here with you. I’m not waking up,” he mumbles, and then he grabs me by the waist, dragging me down on top of him.

My hands pound the top of his chest trying to get free.

“Lincoln, you’re days out from your first game. Get up.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Lincoln,” I growl in frustration.

“I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go to the dorms. I want a goodnight kiss that never ends right here in your bed. Now give it to me.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You know you want more.”

Finally giving in, I gently tilt my head down and meet his lips.

“Pizza,” I whisper.

“I love you, Oakley.”

My lips fully cover his and explore every inch of his mouth. His hands roam up and down my back and finally settle on my ass. My hips push down on him without any nudging or coaching from him. The small movement shocks me. I’ve never lain on top of him, and I’m finding my body likes the position very much. Shivers run up my spine as I grind my hips down on him again. I’ve never been this aggressive before. It’s addicting and exhilarating, and my body is screaming to feel Lincoln underneath me again.

“Fuck, I want you, Oakley,” Lincoln growls.

His words only fuel my desire, and my hips quicken their pace.

Right before I feel like falling off a cliff, Lincoln interrupts me, “Do you trust me, Oakley?”

Sitting back up and feeling slightly embarrassed by my very obvious display of enjoyment, I can only manage to nod.

Without another word, he flips me over on my back while lying at my side with his head propped up on his palm.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he says placing a kiss on the tip of my nose.

Closing my eyes, I feel Lincoln’s large hand roam down the front of my body, and then hear the sound of my shorts being unbuttoned. When his hand dips below my underwear line, I sit up and gasp.

“I can’t,” I say with streams of tears rolling down my face.

“Do you trust me?” he asks again.

“Yes, but I can’t. I’ve been hurt. Please don’t touch me down there.”

“Oakley, look at me. I’m not going to hurt you and will wait forever for you, but I am not going to hurt you or force you to do anything.”

All the emotion and desire that had built up between us disappear. Wracking sobs appear, and I can’t catch my breath between each gasp for air and panicked thought.

I feel Lincoln pull me up to a sitting position, and instinctively I scramble away, trying to run. I don’t see, feel, or hear Lincoln anymore. I only smell the one who stole everything from me that night in my bedroom. Duane, who broke me with his nasty greed. Now his smell is on me again, making me feel rotten and ruined all over.

“Oakley, I’m not letting go. Look at me,” Lincoln demands.

Noticing Lincoln’s hands on me slows my breathing a tick. Then I feel him grab my palm while his other hand goes straight to my neck, and the memory of that smell slowly starts drifting.

“Come back to me, Oakley.”

I hear his cell phone ring in the background, but he doesn’t let go of me to answer it. He keeps talking to me, repeating the same thing over and over.

“Don’t stop talking, please,” I finally say, noticing my voice sounds weak and distant.

Each time Lincoln tells me I’m okay and he’s here, it brings me a little closer to coming back to him. His voice fills me, his touch is healing, and I need more of it.

Finally able to speak, I crawl into his lap. Lincoln is sitting in the middle of the bed, and I straddle him in a sitting position, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his hair. My legs hook around his waist, and I cling to him as tightly as I can.

“I can’t look at you,” I say as more tears flow on his neck.

“I’m sorry. So sorry I pushed you too far. You were just enjoying yourself, and I wanted to do it for you,” he murmurs against my neck.