Page 41 of Burden of Proof

Lincoln shook his head, rubbing absently at the back of his neck.

“This needs coffee,” I said, shaking my head and gesturing toward the door.

Lincoln huffed out a laugh, but he shuffled out of my bedroom in nothing more than his underwear, already making himself at home in my space. I would have been lying to say I didn’t like the look of him mostly naked on my couch, so I swallowed down the thought. I made us both coffee, and we drank half of it before addressing any of the elephants in the room. Finally, Lincoln cleared his throat and faced me head on.

“I am friends with your youngest brother,” he said. “He knows the things I like, so if he knows that you and I are together, he’s going to know you like those things too. Same with your older brother. Silas and Marshall both know. So if you’re not okay with this…”

“It’s—” I stopped myself, tapping the tip of my nose until the urge to speak had gone away.

“Cute trick,” he murmured.

I let out a breath that made both of my cheeks puff up and deflate, one then the other and back again. “It’s fine.”

Lincoln sipped his coffee and arched a brow at me.

“They can’t out me without outing themselves,” I explained. “And even then, they’d have to prove it.”

Whatever the right thing to say was, it wasn’t the thing I actually said. It was so unfamiliar for me to feel as unsteady in conversation as I did with Lincoln. I was used to going back and forth with sharp-tongued lawyers, but one unsteady twenty-five-year-old was enough to throw me off my game entirely?

What were the odds.

“What did I say?” I asked. “I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing.”

Lincoln pulled his lips between his teeth and bit down, clearly fighting a smile as he shook his head at me before looking down at his lap.

“It’s not anything to prove or defend. It’s just…it’s who I am. Who I want to be.” He let out a long breath, then leaned over and set the coffee down on the table in the midst of the chaos I’d brought home from work. “Maybe wanting you isn’t enough. Maybe?—”

“I just meant what I do in the bedroom isn’t their business.”

I reached out and grabbed Lincoln’s wrist. He was two inches off the couch, and my fingers wrapping around his wrist brought him back down. Relief rolled over me, but I didn’t let go of him. I handed him back his coffee and waited for my heart to slow back to a normal response rate, not so close to fight or flight.

“Free use means that whenever you want to take me, you can,” Lincoln said softly, and my heart was right back at emergency room levels.

“We’re back to that then? And that’s something you want?”

He nodded, slowly at first, and then faster.

“There has to be limits, though, right?” I asked.

“Not with that. I mean.” He shrugged. “Nothing that will get me arrested or put on a list.”

God.

Fuck.

I couldn’t believe this was real.

“Where are there limits, then? What are the things you want?”

Lincoln took a deep breath, held it, then sucked some more in on the top. It raised his shoulders, puffed out his chest, and he cocked his head to the side to study me thoughtfully. “You have all the right words, you know,” he said.

“In most cases, I can handle words better than everything else.”

“Then use them.”

“Elaborate, Lincoln.” I scooted closer and cupped his cheek in my palm. He had the softest scruff I’d ever touched. When he leaned into my hand, it tickled.

“If…” He paused. Cleared his throat, and I slid my hand from his cheek to the side of his neck. “If I’m submitting and I do good, you can tell me.”