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Hard Bastard(97)

By:B. B. Hamel


I came to the thought of fucking Lincoln.

As it slowly subsided, I pulled my hand out of my underwear, frowning. I wasn’t satisfied, not even close, but it was better than nothing. I couldn’t let myself get too close to him. It was way too dangerous, especially with his level of fame and the cameras around him all the time. Frankly, I was afraid of him.

I was afraid of how I felt about him. I was afraid of what that meant, both for him and for me.

Finally, I climbed out of bed, washed my hands, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. I checked the time, making sure that Lincoln would be busy with PT, and went downstairs to have some breakfast.

Carefully, I stayed away from the room where he was working out. I didn’t want to risk hearing him grunt with exertion; I knew from experience that it would lead to me fantasizing about him all afternoon, and I really didn’t want to do that again.

I poured myself some cereal and sat at the island. As I began to dig in, I heard a noise and looked up.

“Morning, Aubrie,” Jules said.

“Good morning, Jules.”

She swept into the kitchen, all frilly clothes and flowing skirts, and grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator. She leaned up against the island and smiled at me.

“How’s it going?”

“Fine, I guess. A little bored.”

She laughed. “That’s perfect.”

Inwardly, I sighed. “Why is my boredom perfect?”

“I have a job for you.”

I had been waiting for this. It was unlike Jules to go longer than a day without giving me some task, let alone five days. Those five days were probably my gift for working on the first event.

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“What, do I have to kill someone?”

She laughed. “No, nothing like that. Not exactly anyway.”

“Okay, you’re freaking me out. What’s the job?”

“I need you to convince Lincoln to donate some signed memorabilia and to attend a charity auction.”

I blinked at her. “Why do you need me to do that?”

“You two seem to be getting pretty close. Everyone remarked at the last event how good of friends you two seemed.”

I struggled to keep my expression neutral. “I guess we’ve been talking more, yeah.”

“Well, he doesn’t listen to me, so I thought maybe you could help.”

“He doesn’t exactly listen to me, either, Jules.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t. But could you try anyway?”

She had no clue what she was asking of me. If she did, she’d probably scream and go running for the hills. Or at least she would shun me for being such a weirdo.

“Okay, fine,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll try. But no promises.”

“Great!” she said, perking up. “It’s going to be so good for the cause. He made such a splash at the last one.”

“Really?”

“Oh, sure. Lincoln hasn’t exactly been out in public much since his injury. I think there are rumors that he had died or something silly.”

“That he died,” I said flatly.

“Oh yes, you know, crazy stuff. So him showing up at the event was a big deal.”

I hadn’t realized that Lincoln wasn’t doing public appearances, but it made complete sense. He wasn’t the type of guy to let people see him at his most vulnerable, which made the whole documentary thing seem a little off. But it made sense that he was only doing it to keep my dad off his back. So why show up at the event?

True, I had cashed in my favor, but he could have easily just said no. It wasn’t like I had some real binding contract or something.

“Anyway, I’m off to work out. Have a good day, dear.”

“Okay, sure. Enjoy.”

She walked quickly out of the kitchen, probably so that I didn’t have time to change my mind. Which was a real possibility.

I sighed, finishing my breakfast, and looked around the kitchen. I checked the time again and realized that I had spaced out, thinking about what I was going to do with Lincoln. He would be finishing PT soon, and I needed to get out of the kitchen.

In a hurry, I put my bowl in the dishwasher and moved out into the hall. As I turned the corner, I almost smashed headfirst into a totally surprised human. As I stumbled to one side, Lincoln’s cameraman, Brent, gave me a bashful smile.

“You’re in a hurry,” he said.

“Shit, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Take it easy.” He turned to keep heading toward the front door.

“Hey,” I said, and he turned back. “Are you guys on a break?”

“Yep. Boss gives us a few minutes every day to ourselves.”