“What's that?” Destiny tried to bat his hands away when he tugged at the knot in the towel, and the terry fabric slid to the floor.
Sighing, Linc scrambled his fingers through his wet hair. “I'm guessing you're going to want to wear clothes.”
Was he mad? Walk around naked? Let him see her fat?
“Being naked isn't the end of the world, Baby Doll.”
She crossed her arms. “I need clothes.” Another thought occurred to her, and she added, “You need clothes too.”
He let out a loud belly laugh and then tweaked her nose. “I'll change your mind. I promise.”
“I suppose you go to nude beaches,” she griped, grabbing the towel from the floor.
“I have been, but it's not my thing, and I'd never let you go to one, not even if I'm with you. For one, there's no way any other man's getting a glimpse of you naked, and with cell phones and electronic pictures, it's way too dangerous.” He took the towel from her and wrapped it around her body. “Clothes it is, then. I get to choose what you wear.”
“Fine, then I can choose what you wear.”
A one-sided smile quirked his mouth. “Choice of sweats or my fatigues, Baby Doll. Or the towel?” He waggled both brows.
She rolled her eyes.
They argued over his choice.
“I'll be cold,” she grumbled, looking at the bra-and-pantie set he'd chosen. One of her wilder Internet lingerie purchases, a hot pink transparent demi bra with a matching crotch-slit thong.
“Have you ever worn this before?”
“If you must know, no. It was an impulse buy, and I didn't know about the crotchless pantie.”
“Tell you what—you can wear this robe I found over it.” He handed her a long auburn silk robe. “You do get cold quickly.”
He'd noticed she had a tendency to have cold fingers, toes, and nose? The implied thoughtfulness made her feel oddly pleased. She curled the robe over one hand and started to walk to the bathroom.
“Uh-uh, Baby Doll.” Shaking his head, Linc crossed his arms. “I dress you.”
“What?” The snapped question came out on a squeal.
She wanted to smack the grin he wore off his face.
“Lose the towel,” he ordered.
Cripes, she wanted to obey him so badly. Destiny liked his being in charge, making her do things she'd never do on her own.
You can do this. You'll never have to face him after this week.
After a couple of minutes of staring at the paisley cream and wine oval rug in front of the bed, she swallowed and unclenched her fingers from the terry fabric.
“That's my doll,” he coaxed, taking one step and then hauling her into his arms. “Wasn't so bad, was it? To get naked in front of your man? Feel me, Destiny. I've been aching and hard since I regained consciousness. But I know you're sore, and you need time. I'll never consciously hurt you. Your needs come before mine.” His finger lifted her chin. “Got that?”
Destiny'd never felt so safe, so cozy, so protected; she nodded, then rubbed her cheek on his chest, relishing the way the soft hairs decorating his pecs tickled her skin, greedy to smell him, taste him. A little living dangerously couldn't hurt. She licked his breastbone, smiling at the slight brine tingling her mouth.
He groaned and hugged her closer. Emboldened, Destiny suckled his dark nipple, running her tongue over the tight point, taking it between her teeth.
“Jesus, Baby Doll.” Linc pushed her away, his fingers circling her arms. “Stand still now.” Dropping to one knee, he caught the edge of the pink thong with his mouth and grinned up at her, his eyes dancing and glowing brown, the emerald vanishing as his pupils dilated. He tapped her ankle, and she lifted her foot, steadying herself by resting a hand on his shoulder. A light graze on the other shin. She obeyed the implied command, and he slipped the underwear over her foot.
When his hands left her legs to cup her bottom and he buried his face into her folds, her fingers dug into his shoulder. “Linc.”
“My Destiny.”
He spoke against her nub, and the reverberations of his deep voice together with his slurping tongue made her knees go soft. She fell onto the mattress, legs splayed in invitation. Pressing a kiss on her belly, he levered the thong up her calves, then thighs, all the while locked on her gaze, a devil's smile curving his lips. Snapping the panties into place, he turned Destiny on her side and smacked her bottom.
“How'd you do that?” She asked,, her clitoris still throbbing from his voice.
“Wait till I show you what a song can do.” He winked at her. “Stand up, Baby Doll. Time for your bra. Jesus, I love your breasts.” Working quickly, deft hands slipped the bra over her shoulders. While he worked on the clasps, Linc sucked first one, then the other nipple, and then leaned back to survey the wet circles he'd made.
“Okay, now you can wear the bathrobe.” She slid one hand into the buttery material, turned, and fitted the other arm in.
“Where's the belt?”
“Couldn't find one.”
The too-innocent expression on his face didn't fool her for one minute. “No belt, huh?”
She jammed her hands onto her hips, and the fabric separated; his gaze dropped to her chest. Feeling quite daring, Destiny took a deep breath, sucked in her stomach, and stuck her boobs out.
Rewarded by the way his penis slapped and danced, the way the crown purpled and darkened, Destiny smiled.
“Vixen,” Linc growled, framing her face with both hands. “You're learning way too fast, Baby Doll.” He outlined her mouth with his tongue. “It's nearly four in the morning. I need to check the radio, and we both need some sleep. Sound like a plan?”
“Yes.” She hated the way she vacillated from extreme, excruciating shyness to brazen vamp.
Scooping her off the floor, he shifted and then ambled into the main cabin.
“You can put me down, you know.”
“Don't want to.” His gaze swept the room. “Family Radio Service is a personal walkie-talkie radio system. In remote places like Healy where cell bands aren't great and blizzards are a fact of life, it's a way to communicate when other methods won't work.”
Destiny blinked.
Whaaat?
Then she remembered their earlier conversation. “Oh. Someone's trying to talk to us?”
“Lorcan McGuillycuddy, a buddy of mine.”
Blood drained from her extremities; her fingers and toes grew icy. “There can't be two people with that name in Healy. Lorcan McGuillycuddy is a friend of yours?”
His lips flattened. “You know Lorcan?”
“He piloted the plane I came in on. I think you should put me down.”
Heat scaled her throat.
His eyebrows slashed together. “What did he do?”
“It doesn't matter,” she said through gritted teeth. “Nothing happened.”
“What did he do?”
Destiny felt his voice all the way to her stomach.
“Destiny, I'm waiting.”
“What all men do when they learn my real name. Assume I'm a slut. Your buddy propositioned me. When Angel got wind of that, I thought she was going to punch me. Seems she regards Lorcan as her own private property.”
His swarthy complexion took on an ashen hue, and he grunted. “Angel writes under a pseudonym, doesn't she?”
The temperature in the cabin dropped like a plane in a catastrophic nosedive. “Her real name's Nadine Roland.”
One glance at Lincoln's half-hooded eyes and pursed lips and mortification boiled the blood in her veins from scalp to sole. “You've slept with Angel Robinson.”
His eyes shifted, and he took a deep breath and considered the roof for brief moments—all the confirmation she needed.
“Put me down now,” Destiny snapped, smacking his bare chest, flailing her legs.
He set her down immediately, and she stumbled, arms windmilling for balance. Stubbing her toe on the baseboard, she gripped the tiled counter and propped one foot on the other.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
She dropped her face into open palms. “If that just isn't my luck. I have the best sex ever, and it turns out I'm only getting Angel's leftovers.”
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