“You need to stop wearing that lipstick.”

“Okay,” I say, not because I plan to actually stop, but because I don’t see the point of arguing with him when he’s hard and naked, and being agreeable is likely going to get me what I want a lot faster. Which is him inside me.

His brow furrows. “Okay?”

“Sure. No more lipstick.” I run my palms up the outside of his muscular thighs until I’m framing his erection.

“You’re not even going to ask why?”

“Would you like me to ask why?”

“You’re infuriating, you know that?”

I wrap both hands around his shaft and squeeze. “Clearly that’s a turn-on for you. Would you like to fuck my mouth, now that it’s naked like the rest of me?”

Lincoln drops the lipstick conversation after that, and we spend the next two hours practicing naked stress-relieving activities. Best pre-event pampering ever.* * *Our awesome morning of sex takes a nosedive into Shitsville when I check my voicemails and realize I never got back to Gwendolyn regarding Lincoln’s plus-one. “Dammit.”

“What’s the problem?” he asks as he sips his third coffee so far today.

“You’re supposed to have a date tonight. Your mother wants to know who you’re taking and whether they’ve been vetted.”

Lincoln makes a face. “You’re my date.”

I give him a look. “I can’t be your date.”

“Why not? Are you going with someone?” His expression darkens. “You need to cancel that now. You’re not going with anyone other than me.”

I prop a fist on my hip. “Want to try that again without sounding like a possessive douche?”

He runs a hand through his hair and blows out a breath. “Wren, could you please cancel your date for the event tonight so I don’t end up all over social media for punching out a stranger?”

“That was so much better.” I’m being sarcastic, obviously. “I don’t have a date for tonight since I’m on duty and your mother would prefer that I avoid distractions that aren’t you and Armstrong.

“Oh. Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“It didn’t seem relevant. Also it annoys me to have to say that out loud.” I roll my eyes. “I need to get back to Gwendolyn. She was rather insistent you have a date.” My stomach twists at the thought of another woman on Lincoln’s arm tonight, even if it’s just for appearances.

“Screw that. I’m not bringing a date to appease my mother. I’m going with you. End of story. I’ll call her and tell her myself if you think she’s going to give you a hard time about it. It’s not like either of you can force me to bring someone.”

“First of all, we’ve already established that what’s going on between us has to stay between us. You bringing me as your date is the exact opposite of keeping it a secret, so I can’t be your plus-one. Bringing someone else will actually be helpful.” I choke out the last part.

Lincoln plants his fists on the counter. “Helpful how?”

“Have you seen the pictures people have taken of us lately? They’re intimate. It would help if people thought you were dating.”

“How would that be helpful? And who cares if I’m dating?”

“It’s good for your public image.” I lean against the edge of the counter.

Lincoln’s expression is pinched. “So you’re encouraging me to take the former cheerleader with the natural breasts to this event? Is that it?”

I avoid a direct answer. “You need to have a date.”

“And you’re okay with me bringing some woman my mother approved because her family has a decent bankroll so we can boost my fucking likes or whatever?”

“It makes you relatable.”

He rounds the counter until he’s right in my personal space. “You’re not answering my question. Tell me you’re okay with me bringing someone else to this event.”

My voice wavers with my reply. “I understand why Gwendolyn is so insistent about it. It’s a logical strategy.”

“I don’t care about strategy, Wren. I want you to tell me you’ll be fine with my arm wrapped around someone else. Because that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Photo ops with someone who looks good on my arm.”

“I—” I grit my teeth as the image of that brunette pops into my head.

Lincoln’s dark expression lights up with a menacing smile. “Tell me you’ll hate every minute of it.”

“Of course I’ll hate every minute of it, but Gwendolyn wants you to have a date, and if you don’t pick one, I’m sure she’ll line someone up for you, whether you like it or not.”

“No, she won’t because I won’t let her. If you can’t be my date, I’m not bringing one. I’ll tell her I don’t need the distraction since I already have enough of those as it is.”

“But—”

“Stop arguing with me.” Lincoln’s mouth covers mine, ending the conversation.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved that he’s refusing a date, even if it would look better for us if he had one.