They fell in step with each other as they made their way down the boardwalk and over to the roller coaster. It was still early in the amusement park season, normally not started until summer on the East Coast because the spring weather could be chilly. There was just a short line of people waiting to board the ride. Lincoln had found one of a few in the area opened for business.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” she said, looking nervous as they took their seat together and were strapped in place securely.

  “I risked my life for a chop cheese,” he reminded her. “You can do this.”

  “Bloody hell,” she said, mimicking his British accent as the roller coaster lurched forward.

  Lincoln reached for her hand and she gladly grasped his tightly as she pressed her eyes closed and squealed through the entire ride, every turn and upside-down loop that nearly stopped her heart.

  The ride paused.

  “Open your eyes and enjoy the view, Bobbie,” Lincoln urged.

  Still breathing heavily she shook her head to deny him.

  “Trust me, please,” he added with warmth.

  Her grip on his hand tightened as she slowly opened her eyes and looked around at the entire amusement park now beneath where they sat at the top of the roller coaster.

  “My legs are trembling,” she said, even as her breathing calmed.

  “Take a little time to enjoy the view, Bobbie,” he urged.

  She cut him a side-eye. “Okay, Whoopi Goldberg,” she droned, referencing the host of the talk show The View and their daily tagline.

  “Amusing,” he said.

  Bobbie arched a brow. “Do you laugh, chuckle, hell, smile?” she asked him in wonder.

  “When warranted,” was his super-serious reply. “And that’s rare.”

  The roller coaster began to ease forward as she recognized his dry attempt at having fun at her expense. “Go to—”

  They accelerated downward.

  “Hellllllll,” she exclaimed as it transformed to a yell.

  * * *

  Bobbie looked over Lincoln’s broad shoulder as they danced along the edge of the ballroom of the luxury Midtown hotel. Her eyes were locked on her target, the wife of her client who suspected she was cheating with his business partner and best friend. The woman was a sexy blonde with waist-length hair that she smoothly flipped back over her shoulder as she looked up at the tall and handsome redheaded man with whom she danced.

  “You look beautiful, Bobbie,” Lincoln said in a low voice near her ear.

  She shivered. She couldn’t help herself. “Thank you,” she said with a lick of her lips.

  Bobbie wore a black strapless jumpsuit of lightweight wool with wide legs with a fitted waist giving the silhouette of a dress until she moved and revealed differently. She did pull her hair back into a tight ponytail to avoid it drawing attention while she was undercover.

  Lincoln eased his hand to her bared lower back.

  Bobbie leaned back a bit to look up at him. “You joined me on this stakeout to help, not to distract,” she said, as he made his finger dance up her spine.

  Her body was his puppet, reacting to him with swiftness. Goose bumps covered her skin and her nipples hardened.

  “Then I should tell you the target is leaving,” he said, with a lift of his square chin in that direction.

  Bobbie looked back over her shoulder. “Turn us,” she ordered.

  He did.

  Over Lincoln’s shoulder, the wife and the business partner of her client had separated to cross the ballroom, but both were headed to exits.

  “Was the husband right?” Lincoln asked.

  Her client had orchestrated the night. He was purposefully away on a business trip and had encouraged his wife to attend the event knowing his business partner would be there as well.

  “Let’s find out,” she said, stopping to wrap her arm around his as they followed the wife out of the ballroom.

  The target continued down the ornately decorated hallway to the lobby where she briefly stopped at the front desk to talk to the staff before continuing to the elevator.

  “Wow. They’re bold,” Lincoln said.

  “I’ve seen worse,” she told him.

  When the target paused and glanced back over her shoulder before stepping on the elevator, Lincoln pulled Bobbie close and bent his head to press his lips down on hers.

  Bobbie stiffened for a brief moment before melting in his embrace and desperately gripping his strong forearms in the black tuxedo he wore.

  Oh, he feels good.

  Lincoln broke the kiss just as Bobbie longed for the addition of his tongue. “What now?”

  “What?” she asked, opening her eyes as she still clung to him.

  The look on his face was a little smug. “That wasn’t even a real kiss,” he boasted.

  “Not at all,” she scoffed.

  Liar.

  Just the feel of his lips, his touch and his tight embrace had her nervous the steps she took to walk would result in a stagger.

  Bobbie cleared her throat and walked over to press the button to call for another elevator. Lincoln came to stand beside her. She eyed their reflection. It was hard to deny they looked good together.

  Damn good.

  She lightly touched her mouth, longing for more of his kisses. More of him.

  “Is she getting away?” he asked.

  Bobbie smiled. “The tux has you feeling very James Bond-ish tonight,” she teased as the door slid open and she stepped on. “I’m the investigator. Remember?”

  Lincoln slid one hand into the pocket of his tailored slacks and shrugged one shoulder. “Tonight, we’re on the case,” he countered.

  “Suddenly you’re okay with minding people’s business?” she asked with feigned shock, reminding him of their barb-filled first meeting.

  Lincoln clenched his jaw as he stared ahead. “The man deserves to know if his wife is on the pull.”

  “On—on the pull?” Bobbie asked in confusion.

  Lincoln released a breath as the elevator slowed to a stop. “Looking for sex” he explained, stepping back so that she could exit first.

  Ever the gentleman.

  “I would think wanting to pull is better. Don’t you?” she asked, opening her clutch as they walked down the length of the hall where the luxury was just as evident as every other part of the Fifth Avenue five-star hotel decorated in French Renaissance.

  She glanced up at him.

  Lincoln’s face was deadpan.

  “One day I will make you smile,” she declared.

  “Doubtful.”

  She just laughed.

  “How do you know where she went?” he asked, pausing to look up and down the length of the hall.

  Bobbie continued down the corridor with a satisfied look on her face before she opened the feather-covered clutch she carried and removed a key card. She stopped in front of a door and unlocked it, motioning with her finger for him to be quiet and to follow her into the guest room.

  He did.

  She looked on as he closed the door behind him before continuing down the hall, past the open double doors of the luxurious bathroom into the bedroom. At the foot of the king-size bed were a love seat and a small padded ottoman serving as a coffee table. Bobbie sat on the sofa looking at two laptops open atop the dresser. On them were the videos from the two mini surveillance cameras she’d already placed in the hall earlier.

  “She booked the room earlier today and I booked this one beside her,” she finally explained as he took the seat next to her.

  His thigh was pressed along hers.

  Bobbie tried her best to ignore it. Tried and failed. Off her pulse went with speed.

  “Don’t tell me you have a surveillance inside her suite?” Lincoln asked, his voice hard and accusing.

  Bobbie turned her head to look out the window, feeling an awakening of her resentment of him from their early days. “Regardless of your insults and low thinking of me, I move a bit differently from how private detectives are portrayed in movies. I have a line—actually many lines—I don’t cross, Lincoln,” she said, trying not to show that her feelings were hurt. “It is that integrity that I’m known for. I could burst with the secrets I’m keeping, but it is necessary to do that.”

  “Hey,” Lincoln said with softness, pressing a hand to her back.

  This time his touch was irksome and she shook it off.

  “My bad, Bobbie,” he said, his breath caressing her neck. “I made a wrong assumption. I apologize.”

  Her body softened at his regret. “Lincoln Cress apologize?” she teased.

  In the reflection of the window, she saw him reach toward her face so his fingers touching her chin didn’t startle her, but that switch in her body that controlled her reaction to him was flipped on. He guided her face so that they looked at one another. Separated by just inches but with metaphorical miles and miles of deep desire between them.

  “I’m sorry,” he stressed with earnestness.

  The air was so charged. So electrifying. Bobby felt heady from it. She nodded her acceptance and quickly jumped to her feet, needing the distance between them before she was completely drawn in by his magnetism. And it was all physical and inherent because Lincoln was far from a charmer—handsome but stoic and serious and sometimes stiff. Although there was a hint that beneath that was straight fire and she was longing more and more to be scorched.

  Maybe we can set a date for ten months from today...

  Bobbie sat on the edge of the bed and looked over at Lincoln’s profile.

  I want to suck his mouth, his fingers and his—

  “He’s at the door,” Lincoln said, glancing back at her before refocusing his gaze on the laptops.

  Bobbie slid her hand into the pocket of her pants as she crossed the room to stand by where Lincoln still sat on the love seat. “Of course. She was ready and waiting,” she said, having mixed feelings that her instincts had been correct but she had bad news to deliver to her client.

  Another affair.

  They looked on as the couple shared a long and hot kiss in the doorway before he wrapped an arm around her waist and carried her inside to slam the door shut.

  Lincoln looked up at her and Bobbie was unable to look away.

  There in the depths of their eyes was the awareness of the passion the couple would share right next door and how they both yearned to have that with each other. Revealing further that they shared that longing they both glanced at the bed quickly and then back at each other.

  “What now?” Lincoln asked.

  Strip.

  “Huh?” Bobbie asked, pushing aside the image of him doing just that.

  “You have proof they’re shagging,” Lincoln said. “What happens now?”

  “I hang around to see when he—or they—leave,” she explained, kicking off her heels. “Sometimes it’s all night. But this one won’t be. My client knows she is expecting a call from him to their mansion house phone at midnight.”

  “Just a quickie then?” Lincoln asked, looking at his designer watch.

  “You don’t have to wait,” she said, as she picked up the room’s tablet to order room service.

  “I’m your ride,” he reminded her.

  “I can Uber.”

  “I’m not ready to go back to the town house yet,” was his return as he rose and walked over to look down at the à la carte menu.

  “Isn’t that why you’re even in the country...and why we’re hanging out? For them?” Bobbie asked as she used the tip of her glossy almond-shaped nail to run down the items listed.

  “Things changed,” he said simply.

  Bobbie didn’t dare to look up at him. Not with her body excited by his closeness and his words—and everything they implied. “You’ve been with me all day.”

  “Most I’ve enjoyed my time in New York.”

  That surprised her. “How would I know that when your only expression all day was stern or frowning?” she asked.

  “I didn’t complain.”

  True. He had not.

  “You don’t have to worry about wrinkles,” she said dryly.

  He gave her a slight shrug with a minute incline of his head.

  And what face do you make when you climax?

  “Hungry?” she asked, motioning to him with the tablet.

  She paused and closed her eyes, hearing how that one-word question could be taken in another way. “For food,” she rushed to add, hearing the tremble of nerves in her voice.

  Lincoln snorted.

  Bobbie whirled. “Was that a chuckle?” she asked, her eyes wide in astonishment.

  “Definitely not,” he drawled.

  She gave her attention back to the tablet and quickly ordered porcini-crusted filet mignon served with creamed spinach and potatoes cooked in foie gras.

  “Order me something too, Bobbie,” Lincoln requested.

  She did, before walking over to show him the tablet. “I’m curious. What would you have picked?” she asked.

  He yawned. “Whatever you picked is fine.”

  “Yes, but what would you have picked?” she insisted.

  “Fine,” he said, eyeing the tablet. “The fennel-dusted salmon.”

  “Yes! That’s what I got you,” Bobbie exclaimed as she turned to set the tablet back atop the side table by the bed. “Just checking on my instincts.”

  Suddenly Lincoln’s arms came around her from behind in a bear hug. “What do your instincts say now?” he asked.

  Oh. Really?

  And with three swift moves in rapid succession, she bent her knees, raised her hands hard to jerk up his arms and moved sideways to free herself. To seal the deal, she gave two more swift moves that landed the sizable man on the floor beneath her with her forearm pressed under his chin.

  “Impressive,” he said.

  Bobbie’s breaths were a bit heavy from the exertion as she looked down into Lincoln’s face. Studied it and missed absolutely nothing. Not even the small flat mole on his cheek. The single gray hair in his goatee. His long lashes. And his mouth that he kept in a frown or thin line was...was...tempting.

  And just one dip of her head away.

  A couple of inches, if that.

  So close.

  She raised her eyes from his mouth to his eyes. With her upper body pressed down upon his chest and a gleam of pure intense raw desire in his eyes, Bobbie felt the breath she took slow as she fought for control.

  Of her body.

  Her desire.

  The need to kiss him. Taste him. Have him.

  You can’t. You can’t.

  Then Lincoln reached up to free her hair and entwine his fingers through the waves as he pulled her head down to his.

  Bobbie gasped softly.

  The anticipation was intoxicating and not to be denied.

  The first feel of his tongue flicking against her mouth was the beginning and the end of her resistance. Her entire body felt a spark like nothing ever before.

  Ever.

  She trembled as she tumbled face-first into passion. Heart-pounding, pulse-racing, mind-blowing passion as the bud nestled between the lips of her core ached seeking an explosive release.

  It was exhilarating. New. Different. Addictive.

  “Lincoln,” she sighed just before he deepened the kiss with a guttural moan.

  Like he was starving for her.

  She understood his hunger and matched it with her own, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him as she succumbed to a desire to be fed.

  Five

  We’re doing this.

  Bobbie’s tongue tangoed with Lincoln’s as he turned their bodies on the floor until she was pressed beneath him. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, his thick hardness snaked against her swollen and pulsing bud. She moaned, arching her back as Lincoln shifted to press hot kisses down the length of her throat. He deeply suckled her pulse point and she bit down on her bottom lip to quiet a shrill cry of pleasure from escaping.

  She gave in, releasing a long and shaky breath through pursed lips as she slid herself up against the smooth floor above her head. The echo of him undoing the side zipper of her jumpsuit blended with her purrs. She looked at him as he lowered the top, leaving her breasts free for his to enjoy. He shook his head as if in wonder before easing both hands around her waist and raising her upper body with her head tilted back and her hair skimming the floor.

  “Damn,” he swore before lowering his head to lick each of her taut nipples.

  Bobbie didn’t deny the cry of pleasure. She couldn’t. He drew it from her with ease as he sucked her flesh and buried his head in the cleavage with a deep and guttural moan. “Lincoln,” she gasped. “Lincoln!”

  He cut his penetrating eyes up at her as he sucked nearly the whole of one of her breasts into his mouth as he twirled the nipple with his tongue.

  Shaking her head, she covered her face with both of her hands feeling pushed over the edge at the very sight of the pleasure he gave. She craved him but the pleasure was so intense she was afraid of it as well. As if insanity was just a blink away. Never had she felt close to madness. She was a trembling and throbbing mess as he laid her back against the floor before roughly removing the jumpsuit.

  She opened her eyes just as he flung it over his head and then grabbed her lace thong in his fist to tear it away as he sat on his knees between her legs. She spread them wider as she reached to cup her breasts and tease her nipples.

  “Bobbie!” he gasped, rushing out of his tuxedo jacket and nearly ripping off the bow tie before undoing the zip and button of his pants to free his hard length.

  Stroking it from thick root to thick tip. Slight curve and all.

  Even the sight of him removing a condom from his wallet and sheathing himself thrilled her.

  She kept her eyes locked on his dark expression as she moved her hands down to stroke her damp bud. The first feel of her fingers made her hiss and moan. He locked on the move, tilting his head to the left to watch her as he furrowed his brows and released a low whistle that made her release a soft laugh.

 

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