Chapter 8

Brooke exited the bathroom and focused on her return to the table.  She didn't notice the tall figure who shoved off the wall and followed her.  Thoughts were racing with questions involving Lincoln and his behavior that night.

She walked along the side wall, passing closed doors of  small private party rooms.  Most were occupied by small groups.  Their group was so big, they rented the main hall.

The music of the next song blared into Brooke's ears, completely hiding the soft click of a door opening. It also drowned out a squeal of surprise when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her into a dark vacant room.

With the lights off, Brooke couldn't see who had grabbed her but a rush of cold terror coursed through her body.  Brooke's heartbeat pumped wildly in her ears.  Had Dorian found her? Would he finish what he started before she left him?  Then a familiar spicy cologne hit her nose. Her heart still beat wildly, but no longer in fear.

Brooke took a step backwards, then another and another until her back hit the wall. She reached out, pawing in search of the lightswitch.  A broad arm rose to press its hand on the wall beside her head, blocking Brooke's search for a source of illumination. She then felt the warmth of the opposite hand settle on her hip.  The steady rhythm of deep breaths filtered through the room, the heat and hint of whiskey fanning her cheek.

"Lincoln," Brooke exhaled, realizing her voice sounded more like a moan than declaration.  She swallowed.  "You scared me."

"That wasn't my intention," he whispered, leaning forward enough. She felt the heat radiating off of his body.

"OK," she commented, confusion in her tone.  "We...I...the others will wonder where we are..."

"And?" He shrugged nonchalantly.  The small amount of light from the window in the door spilled a shadow over his muscular form, casting him into a mysterious silhouette.  "Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you." She chuckled dryly, clenching her hands into fists at her sides to fight the urge to touch him. "Why are you mad at me?"

Lincoln leaned in farther until the tip of his nose brushed hers.  "I am most certainly...not mad at you."

"Then what is your deal?" she snapped, shoving his chest.  He barely moved and she groaned in frustration.  "Yesterday you were all but spouting sonnets, then tonight you parade around with some hot blonde, at my birthday party!"

"Hot blonde?" Flinching from her words, Lincoln stepped back, allowing the filtering light to reveal his eyebrows raised and head cocked in confusion.  It took a moment, but soon a smile slowly spread across his face. "Oh, you mean Ellen?"

"Sure," Brooke grunted, crossing her arms under her chest.

Taking a step forward again, Lincoln closed their distance. "You are adorable when you're mad, did you know that?"

Now it was Brooke's turn to raise her brows.  Her eyes widened in bewilderment.  Itquickly morphed to a fierce glare.

"Stop toying with me, Lincoln!" she snapped only causing him to chuckle again. "You made it clear I'm not your type so go back to your date!"

"Brooke." Lincoln sighed, his amused grin hidden by the shadows as he leaned toward her face again.

"Just let me get back to my party," she huffed, exasperated and trying again to shove him away. This close proximity was too tempting and rejection was a very real anxiety which caused her breaths to shorten.

"No," he answered, his voice gruff.

Lincoln's grip on her hip only tighten, causing Brooke to pause in her feeble attempts to push him away.  His hand left the wall to cup her neck, fingers raking into her curled tendrils. This affectionate move was foreign to Brooke and she froze, pressing herself harder against the wall.

"Your date will miss you," she argued weakly, hands resting on his pecs where moments ago they were trying to shove him away.  The warmth from his toned chest seeped into her fingers despite the fear flooding her from his tight grip.

"Brooke," he chuckled then brushed his lips against her ear, causing her breath to hitch and eyes to close at their softness.  "She's not my date."

"W-what?" Brooke asked, utterly shocked from the reverie.

"Ellen is not my date," Lincoln repeated, his thumb extended to brush over her cheek, hazel locked onto emerald.

"Then who-"

"She's my sister."

Brooke was speechless.  His sister? But Elaine is his sister. He has another one?

"As I was leaving to come here," he explained, the hand on her hips making slow, small circles and sending heat straight to her core.  "Ellen arrived home from school for Christmas break.  She asked to tag along.  Apparently, I haven't stopped talking about you and she wanted to meet you."

"You..." she stammered, flabbergasted by his subtle confession.  "You told her about me?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, brushing his lips across her flushed face. The sensation reverberated through her cheek down her spine. "You have left quite an impression on me."

"B-but...ahh," Brooke stammered nervously again when his lips found her ear lobe.  Already she felt ready to implode, so different from how she felt in the past.  "You s-said I'm...not your type."

Lincoln smirked at her small sounds, fingers gripping at his shirt as he nipped lightly at her ear lobe again.  "Perhaps my type is changing."

"I don't...want your pity," Brooke groaned through clenched teeth, trying with all her might to not respond to him.  She was failing terribly. These brand new gestures of intimacy fogged her mind.

"Never," he growled softly, drawing her lobe into his mouth again.  Her body shuddered against him, fingers fisting tighter around his shirt.  "You don't even realize how sexy you are."

Her breath hitched again, exhaling and releasing a soft moan as he sucked and nipped her ear.  Sexy had never been a word associated with a description of her. It was driving Brooke out of her mind how traitorous and responsive her body was.  Dorain hadn't touched her like this before. Even through the fog of her mind, Lincoln made his intentions clear.

Brooke slid her hands up Lincoln's chest to cup at his neck. Her breathing ragged and speed up but she instinctively tugged him closer. Towering above even her 5' 7" frame and in three inch heeled boots, he was hunched down a bit to reach her ear.

The growing desire in Lincoln's pants was getting steadily tighter against the denim binding of his jeans.  Tilting his hips forward, he pushed the firm bulge against Brooke's stomach showing her exactly how turned on he was right now.

"This," he groaned into her ear as his hips ground against her.  "Is not...from pity."

As he peppered kisses from her ear to along her jawline, Brooke let out a series of small, breathy moans.  It grew to a much louder groan when Lincoln's hand on her hip, slid to cup her ass and squeeze.

"So soft," he growled, brushing his lips teasingly over hers, drawing out a raspy sharp inhale from Brooke. The corners of his tempting lips curved upward before he took full advantage of her parted lips.

Holding her head steadily cradled in his hand, Lincoln tilted his head and pressed his parted lips over hers.  Surprisingly, there was no hesitation from Brooke.  She immediately returned the fiery kiss, instantly shunning any protest or questions churning in her mind, screaming for logical answers.  It had been so long since she had been kissed, let alone like this. There was no way Brooke was stopping.

Their lips melded, massaged and captured each other.  It was gentle yet eager and full of desire. The only sounds were their heavy breathing and hearts pounding in the rising excitement.  Luckily, the smaller rooms were soundproof so the music from the current performances did nothing to dampen their mood.

The strong taste of whiskey hit Brooke's tongue as Lincoln licked at her bottom lip. Flicking her tongue in reply, he got a fruity flavor bursting on his buds from her sangria. Their tongues danced, wrestled and fought for dominance but Brooke was no match.

Logic screamed through her muddled brain. What are you doing? This is too fast! What if he's the same?

Breaking from his luscious lips for air, Brooke tilted her head to the side, trying to steady her breathing and racing heart.  She needed to collect her scattering thoughts.  The languidly peppered kisses to her neck maintained the fuzzy cloud.  She was overwhelmed with how good this all felt. Sliding her hands from his neck, Brooke dug her fingers into his luscious hair, fisting the soft, dark locks as her breathing turned to pants mixed with breathy soft moans.

Lincoln kissed his way to the crook of her neck, sucking in between deep, languid kisses to the sensitive skin.  The scent of peppermint and vanilla mixed with the floral from Brooke's hair was intoxicating. He growled as she gripped his hair, loving the tugging sensation.  His hand on her ass squeezed again then he hooked his fingertips under the hem of her dress lifting it higher up her thighs.

Sliding his hand from her cheek, teasing with a feather light touch down her neck, Brooke shivered and let out a breathy moan.  The smirk tugging at his lips did not deter his kisses.  Skilled fingers slid under the shoulder of her jacket, sliding it down her arm.  With newly exposed skin, Lincoln switched sides, kissing every inch of creamy skin on her shoulder.

Once that shoulder was fully welcomed to the warm air, Lincoln switched back to the other side, sliding down that sleeve as well, eagerly kissing the soft, freckle-peppered flesh.  All the while, Brooke kept one hand raking his hair, the other gripping his biceps to steady herself.  She released one to help shrug off the now restraining jacket.  Her head was fuzzy, body on fire and core aching for more. Dorian never made her feel like this.

Brooke's leather jacket slipped from her arms one at a time, falling to the floor with a soft plop.  With her arms freed, she draped both of them over Lincoln's shoulders, fisted both greedy hands in his hair again to guide his warm, soft lips back to hers.

With both hands sliding down her sides, Lincoln felt every delicious soft curve all the way down to her lower back then cupped her delectable ass again.   Squatting slightly, Lincoln gripped her hard and lifted.  With a light squeal, Brooke wrapped her legs instinctively around his hips.

Carrying her over to a side table, Lincoln set her down on the edge.  He leaned forward to step farther between her legs and spread them around his hips. He ran his hand up then down her outer thigh, humming in appreciation against her lips at the supple skin. Her dress gathered perfectly at her hips, pushed higher with each stroke of his large, warm hands. With a slow, deliberate thrust of his hips, the hardness in his jeans pressed against her center.

"Ohhh!" Brooke moaned, breaking their kiss and throwing her head back at the pressure.  "Lincoln," she half whined, brand new sensations racing through her.

"I want." He rocked his hips and peppered kisses between words from the edge of her shoulder, heading for her lips.  "To hear you...moan my name...while I'm...buried in you...until you scream." He hovered over her lips, her hot, panted breaths mixing with his own. "In orgasm."

A weak, nervous smile spread across Brooke's lips.  Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink than what they already were. A cold rush of anxiety brought animated goosebumps.  How could she tell him she had never had one? Never been brought to the passionate edge of bliss or been paid any attention to her needs at all? Should she? He would probably turn tail and run.  She might as well be a virgin.

"Lincoln," Brooke moaned. His lips caught hers and silenced any protest.

"What do you need?" he asked between kisses. "What do you want?" 

With one hand holding her lower back, Lincoln's other slid up her thigh but dipped between them where he had been rocking against her core.

"Ahh-" Brooke moaned before Lincoln's lips captured hers again.  No answers came to mind.  Dorian had never asked what she wanted. It was always about him.

"I can guess..." The pad of Lincoln's thumb found Brooke's panty covered center and grinned against her lips finding the cotton soaked. "Ohhh yes." He brushed her swollen lips and chuckled darkly, adding pressure to her bud with his thumb.

"Ahh!" Brooke moaned, louder than before at the added pressure and slow circles Lincoln's thumb swirled. Her fingers gripped at his shoulders, legs trembling around him.

"You are so responsive," he cooed into her ear, his voice strained from the hardness in his pants.  "I want you, Brooke. Do you want me?"

"Yes!" came her breathy reply, desperate for this pressure building inside her to be satisfied. "I need...ahh something!"

Grinning wider just before diving for the sensitive spot on her neck, Lincoln kissed aggressively at Brooke's neck.  He answered her body's desperate cry for satisfaction.  Pushing her panties aside, he stroked her folds teasingly in feather light strokes with the tips of his fingers, chuckling against her neck as her body shuddered.  The sharp intake of breath as he slipped a finger into her tight cavern earned a groan from the back of his throat.

Brooke lurched forward, pressing her forehead into his neck.  Her arms wrapped around his chest to claw at Lincoln's strong back.  His finger slowly pumped in and out, his thumb continuing its slow circles.  Brooke shivered in his arms, rapidly building toward a new venture.  Her walls clenched his finger as he intensified his rhythm, crooking his finger to spread her depths and add a digit.

The pressure deep within Brooke's belly, the strange new sensation, continued to burn more intensely with every pump, every swirl. Just when she thought it couldn't get more intense, Lincoln rubbed a sensitive spot deep within then increased the pressure. His palm cupped her with each sheathing. Brooke threw her head back and let out a low, guttural moan of pleasure.

Dragging his lips along her jawline, Lincoln found her earlobe and nipped before whispering in a husky, lust filled tone. "Let go, baby."

A few more pumps, vigorous swirls and nips at her earlobe all at once, tossed Brooke over an edge she had never seen the other side of. Her breath caught in her lungs, mouth agape, head back as the waves of a shattering orgasm ripped through her body all the way to her toes curling in her boots. This was what Dorian had denied her for years.

Humming with a delightful high, Brooke rolled her eyes closed, leaning her head on the wall as she grinned like a fool and chuckled lightly. Lincoln placed languid, lingering kisses across her collarbone and column of her neck, slowing his fingers before withdrawing.

"I bet you taste amazing," Lincoln cooed in her ear as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean of her juices. Brooke watched with wide eyes, sparkling forest gems fixed on her.  "Even better."

Grabbing him by the back of the head, Brooke hungrily yanked his lips to hers initiating a mind shattering passionate kiss.  Dorian never made her feel this good or desirable.  All logic was gone.  Something new had been awoken and Brooke wanted, needed more.

Lincoln slid his hands up the back of her dress to find the zipper while Brooke eagerly tugged at his belt.

"Are you sure?" she panted between kisses. Now that her high was leveling out, the nerves came rushing back.  "About this?"

Freezing with the zipper part way down, belt hanging open, Lincoln leaned back, brows furrowed.  "Are you sure? Brooke, if not..."

"I'm sorry," she groaned, leaning her forehead against his chest.  Logic gained an advantage and seemed to dump a bucket of ice water on her. What if he didn't fit? What if it was painful like every time before? Harsh words from Dorian replayed through her mind. Lincoln wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple.  "This is going so fast...From let's do dinner to...this?"

"Is that really all that's bothering you?" he asked tenderly, leaning back then lifting Brooke's head up by her chin to gaze in her eyes. 

Brooke licked her lips nervously, hazel orbs shimmering up into the evergreen.  "It's...been a while," she confessed softly, eyes pressing closed fighting away brimming tears.  "Since I've done this."

Tenderly kissing from her temple to forehead, Lincoln peppered his way down her nose then to her lips.  "We'll take it slow then," he smirked, fingers leaving feather light touches around her sides.  He went back for her zipper.

Hooking her fingers into the front of his pants, Brooke returned the languid kiss as she popped open the button.  She could do slow.  That was opposite to what Dorian had always done.  The hardest lesson Brooke had to retrain in her mind was that not every man would be Dorian.  This could be the first lesson.  She would never know if it was her or Dorian, unless she tried with someone else.

Courage regained and Brooke bit her lower lip. She twisted her wrist to continue where they left off. Just as she was beginning to push the zipper down, lips parting to capture Lincoln's again, a loud knocking on the door startled both of them.

"Brooke?" Leena's voice called, sounding concerned.  "Serena thought she saw you go here.  Are you alright?"

With a frustrated groan, Lincoln pulled her zipper back up, giving a quick kiss to her deliciously swollen lips.

"Yeah," Brooke sighed.  "I'm fine.  Just...needed a moment." Then she cupped Lincoln's cheeks.  "I'm sorry."

He smiled weakly and shook his head.  "I do still want to take you to dinner.  Then we can continue...if you want."

She smiled and nodded shyly back as he stepped aside, helping her slip off the table. Brooke straightened her dress as Lincoln righted his belt.  Running her fingers through her hair, Brooke hoped her appearance wasn't too much of a giveaway of what they had done.  She bent to get her jacket then turned toward the door.  Before she could turn the handle, Lincoln spun her back to face him.

Lips parted in a gasp of surprise as Lincoln's lips crashed on hers. A hard, bruising, lustful kiss clearly staking a claim that was over as quickly as it began. Holding her body pressed tightly to his, they both panted from that kiss.

"This was not just a quick tryst, Brooke," he whispered, voice husky with desire and promise, a hand cupping her cheek.  "You are worth more than that.  I want you, but at your pace.  I want dates, dinners, kisses and tears.  I want it all, Brooke."

Her heart skipped hearing those words.  Lincoln had no idea what he was asking.  He had scorned single moms! What would he say when he found out about Melody? This would be easier as a one night stand, feel good, prove her body wasn't damaged and get out but her heart yearned for more.  But she was worth more than that. 

What would Lincoln say if the final act was unsuccessful like the countless times with Dorian?  What if it was just as painful and they couldn't finish? What would he say when he found out Brooke had a child? What about when Lincoln found out about the level of abuse and how broken she really was? Could Brooke handle the rejection? The failure?

Brooke's breathing sped, heart palpitating in fear of being rejected or abandoned by this man who just took her to brand new heights. Maybe she wasn't ready for any of this intimacy yet after all. Instead of giving a verbal answer, panic quickly eased its ugly head into her mind and heart. Brooke simply stepped away, surprised that Lincoln released her to turn the knob and slip out.  She gave one last longing look before the door clicked closed.

"You OK?" Leena asked again.

"Mhmm," Brooke hummed.

"OK," Leena relented after a pause.  "Our time slot ended.  The limo is by the door.  Ready?"

She must have nodded and followed Leena toward the exit, leaving Lincoln consumed by emotions he hadn't felt in a very long time.