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And run into a thick, powerful chest.

My yelp of surprise is stifled by a hand over my mouth, and lips brush the shell of my ear as my pulse races.

“It’s not polite to go snooping, Pool Girl. Didn’t anybody ever teach you that?”

It’s Lincoln. His voice is rough and low, barely more than a breath, and he’s got one arm wrapped around my ribcage just below my breasts, his grip like a steel band. I’m pressed up flush against his body, and I can feel every inch of him behind me. He’s a little hard, and the feel of his cock against my lower back only makes the confusing mix of arousal and fear inside me churn faster.

I shake my head, although it’s not really in answer to his question. I can barely remember what his question was.

“You like spying on people?” He angles our bodies so we can both see through the small crack in the door, where Dax and Chase have the girl between them writhing. Lincoln’s fingertips ghost over my ribs as his other hand leaves my mouth, splaying low across my stomach… so close to where a throbbing, demanding ache is building.

I can’t sort out any of my emotions anymore. Can’t delineate between what’s pissing me off and what’s turning me on. But I know that any minute, one of the three people in that room could glance over toward the door and see us. The hallway is shadowed, but we’re not invisible.

Digging my feet into the floor, I press back against Lincoln, trying to force him backward, away from the doorway. But it just melds our bodies closer together, and he lets out a harsh breath, his grip on me tightening.

“Do you want Dax, Harlow? Is that it? Or Chase? You want them both together?” His words are so quiet it’s like he’s pouring them directly into my brain. Like he’s invading my thoughts. “What do you want? Who do you want? Tell me.”

My body is responding to his voice in ways I can’t quite understand. Like it doesn’t know or care what he’s saying, it just wants more.

But my brain knows. The tiny part of my mind that can still form rational thoughts, t

he part that’s been screaming alarms at me ever since Mom and I arrived in this house, knows better than to answer Lincoln.

Knows not to give him that power over me.

So instead, I shove backward again, and this time, he does step away from the door. As soon as Dax and Chase leave my view, my mind clears a little more, and I clamp my hands around Lincoln’s forearm, feeling the taut lines of muscle flex under my grip.

“I don’t want anyone. And I wasn’t trying to snoop, you asshole. Tell your fucking friends to close the damn door next time,” I whisper.

He huffs a breath, letting out a disappointed sounding chuckle. “You’re a lot better at bluffing when you’re at the poker table, Pool Girl. Didn’t anybody ever tell you you shouldn’t lie either?”

I snort. “That’s rich, coming from a guy who lives in a house basically built on lies.”

Before I can register what’s happening, his hands shift to spin me around, the movement so fast it leaves me dizzy. His amber eyes blaze as he stares down at me. “What are you talking about?”

Oh shit. I shouldn’t have said that.

I could probably hurt him right now, if I wanted to. Whether he knows about the paternity test his dad took or not, it would still be a blow to hear about it from me. Because even if he is already aware of it, I’m sure he doesn’t want the help knowing all his family drama.

But for some reason, I keep my mouth shut.

Maybe it’s because, for all the stupid comments and taunts and pranks he and his friends have thrown at me, none of them have felt as damaging or real as this.

“Nothing. Just that I’m sure you didn’t tell your parents you were throwing this little party,” I shoot back, trying to give my words enough bite to make them believable.

He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re a shit liar. What did you really mean?”

“That’s it!” I insist in a low whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed—”

I tug out of his grasp and start down the hallway, but I don’t make it more than a few feet before he’s on me again, silent and fast as a fucking cat.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he murmurs, wrapping a hand around my arm. “You don’t want to tell me the truth? Fine. But here’s the thing, Pool Girl. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m throwing a little party. I’m sure it’s gotten a little messy downstairs. And you’re the only cleaning staff around right now.”

I blink at him, anger making me a little slow. “What, you want me to… clean? Right now?”

A lazy smile tilts his lips, and I know he’s doing this just to get back at me. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want to have to tell my dad you fucked up while they were gone. Or that you smoked weed while you were working his cocktail party.”

The blood drains from my face, and my skin prickles. Goddammit. Is he serious?

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