Handle With Care (Shacking Up 5)

“Linc!” I elbow him in the side. Over the months, there have been a number of occasions when the back seat of the car has functioned as a makeshift bed, especially when there’s traffic. But Penelope doesn’t need to know that.

He gives me a blank look. “What?”

“That’s not funny.” I kick him in the ankle and avert my gaze across the table, but he doesn’t take the hint.

His lascivious grin grows wider. “Who says I’m joking?”

Penelope clears her throat. “I hope you’re not using the company vehicles for purposes other than transportation.”

Lincoln finally realizes he’s been talking about screwing me in a car in front of his damn grandmother. “Absolutely not, G-mom. Totally talking smack.”

“And embarrassing Wren. You’re lucky she puts up with you.”

“This is very true. I’m grateful that she tolerates my BS on a daily basis and hasn’t threatened to laser my face in at least a week.”

G-mom winks at me and pushes away from the conference table. “I have an appointment with my personal trainer, so I’m going to say my goodbyes now.”

G-mom hugs me first and then Lincoln, whispering something that makes the tips of his ears turn red.

Once we’re in the car on the way to the airport, I ask him what she said. He hits the button for the divider, cutting off our view of the driver.

“She told me I’m not the first person to christen the back of the company cars.”

“Oh my God.” My face heats with fresh embarrassment.

“She also said there was a reason the seats were leather.”

I bark out a laugh that turns into a squeal when Lincoln slams his thumb down on the release and does the same with his own seat belt.

“We have a six-hour flight ahead of us and likely a few days without running water or a shower, so I’m taking full advantage of the leather seats.”EPILOGUETHIS BEAUTIFUL BEGINNINGWRENEight months later

I’m so hot. So, so hot and sweaty and very much on the verge of an orgasm. I grip Lincoln’s hair with one hand and brace the other on the wall behind me. The one good thing about sleeping on a mattress on the floor is that nothing squeaks, except me when Lincoln uses his teeth.

He pauses on his quest to make me come to shush me.

“Don’t bite me if you don’t want me to make noise,” I whisper and tug his hair.

So he bites me again, of course.

One of the hands currently gripping my ass relocates, and he presses his palm over my mouth to stifle my exuberance as he resumes his tongue torture. I bite his palm as I come—it’s only fair considering all the biting he’s been doing.

I’m barely cresting the orgasm when Lincoln stretches out over me, fits himself between my legs and pushes inside with a low groan.

“Shh,” I half moan and pinch his ass.

He retaliates by biting my neck.

It’s approaching six in the morning, the sun is barely cresting the horizon, but a dog barks somewhere close by, signaling the start of the day.

The sound of people milling around outside filters through the curtained, pane-less windows as Lincoln moves over me, pumping slow and steady, our panted breaths and occasional whispered admonishments and taunts the only sounds we make.

I want him to go faster, harder, but it’s too quiet still, and sound carries here. Unless we want the entire crew and the lovely, sweet local volunteers to know exactly how much sex we have, we have to keep it quiet. And we have a lot of sex.

Thank God the fresh water well was the first thing we dug when arrived several weeks ago.

Somewhere close by a low buzz and ding starts up, it’s a foreign sound here since reception is infrequent and spotty at best. Also, I’m orgasm high and looking for another hit, so I’m inclined to ignore it. Except Lincoln isn’t as single-minded.

He pushes up on his forearms, brow furrowing. “What is that?”

“Dunno.” I shift my hips to bring his attention back to more important things, like giving me another orgasm.

The buzz-ding happens again, and Lincoln’s eyes flare. “Is that my phone?” He leans over to the nightstand and snatches it up. “Shit. It’s Hope. I have to answer this.”

He flips us over so I’m on top. I make a move to get off him, a little annoyed at the interruption, even though I understand the need to answer the call.

Lincoln grabs my hip. “Stay where you are.”

“You can’t answer a call from your sister while you’re still inside me. That’s wrong.”

“It’s not like she’s going to know. Just hang on.”

He answers the call on what I assume is speakerphone, maintaining his hold on my hip to keep me in place. “Hey, sis, everything okay?”

“Hey! I wasn’t sure if I’d get a hold of you or not. Sorry I’m calling so early on you, but I wanted to run something by you.”