Page 7 of Love By Design

I didn’t look up, but helped him maneuver my legs into a pair of tight jeans. He grunted, trying to hike them the rest of the way up my thighs, then collapsed beside me with a laugh.

“You’ll have to get those the rest of the way on,” he announced.

“Yes, Sir,” I teased, forcing myself into a seated position beside him.

“Arms up, lazybones.”

I obliged and he slid a plain black t-shirt down over my arms. I wriggled into it, then stood with a jump to get the pants fully on.

“Those were probably not the best choice if you wanted a spanking tonight,” he said, lips pursed.

“You picked them,” I reminded him. “And besides, if they want me, they’ll have to work for it.”

“And we know how you love that.” Lincoln rolled his eyesat me, and I waited for him to finish getting dressed. He fingered a leather harness that sat on his dresser, glancing in the mirror to see my thoughts in the reflection. I shook my head, and he left it be, opting instead for a snug black t-shirt that he tucked into the tight pants.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“Almost.” He sat down on the foot of the bed and stretched his legs out, wiggling his bare toes.

“Linc,” I groaned, heading for his dresser and then his closet.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he promised. “I didn’t even know when you were going to be home.”

I grabbed a pair of black socks and his leather boots, then sank down onto my knees at his feet.

“I don’t believe you,” I fake-grumbled, getting each of his feet into the socks before situating the tops underneath the cuffs of his leather pants. His boots were next, one foot and then the other, and there’d been a time I’d accused him of liking me on my knees better than my back. He’d protested and scoffed, then pressed the toe of his boot against the bulge between my legs, and we both knew who liked what.

Lacing him up, I patted his calves, then pushed up until I was standing.

“You can kiss them,” he suggested, giving his booted feet a wiggle, kicking one against my bare ankle.

“You’d like that.”

“Youwould like that,” he countered.

“We’ll never know.” But the heat surging between my legs and the shared memory between us confirmed we both knew. It was just…a boundary between us.

A limit.

“My turn,” he said quickly, taking my hand and leading me down the short hall that separated our bedrooms. Lincoln gave me a gentle shove onto the bed, and I went willingly, fightingback a tangle of complicated feelings as Lincoln went to his knees in front of me and busied himself with returning the favor. Instead of boots, he laced me into my sneakers, then helped me to my feet.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For the shoes?”

I shook my head. “For always knowing what I need.”

He chuckled and slung an arm over my shoulders. “Maybe it’s not as selfless as you think, Silas. Maybe I want to watch.”

Heat burned my cheeks, and I turned away, even though I was certain Lincoln didn’t need to see it to know how much I liked the idea. Our friendship was an easy thing, a perfect thing, but it was murky sometimes. I dreaded the day that would become a problem, so instead I tried to pretend like it wasn’t a possibility.

“What is your goal for the night?” I asked him once we reached the door, doubling back to his bedroom to dig my wallet and keys out of the pockets of my discarded slacks. I stopped in the bathroom to mess up my carefully-styled hair, and Lincoln leaned against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest, green eyes sparkling.

“My goal is to hand you off to someone with stronger hands than me, and while you’re getting beaten into the oblivion you’re so desperate for, I’ll be getting a blow job somewhere.”

“I thought you wanted to watch,” I teased, arching a brow.

“Only if a better opportunity doesn’t present itself.”