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“Did you see what he had in his hand?” Lincoln demanded, his hand smoothing over my neck as he seemed to decide something.

“What?” I frowned. “A drink?” To be fair, I’d had a few, so my memory was sketchy.

“Yes, one for you,” he snarled.

Okay… so…

“I would never accept a drink from him. I don’t get why this is a big deal.”

“Greg sells roofies,” Lincoln drew out slowly. “Sells a lot of different shit, but mainly that.”

Okay, I was starting to understand the anger now.

“I would have never accepted a drink from him,” I reiterated. Lincoln shook his head, tugging me further against him, his forehead pressing to my own. I could feel his temperament surging, but I wasn’t scared despite how close we were right now. That toxic excitement flared again.

“It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

“That I wouldn’t drink it?” I offered him an incredulous expression.

“He should have never even f-fucking thought about doing that!” he snarled, trying to calm himself and failing terribly.

“Okay,” I drew out, frowning. “Well, let’s not talk about Greg. How about let’s talk about when you—”

My thoughts went fuzzy as Lincoln’s lips melded to mine, making me let out a soft moan as my fingers dug into his shirt. I pressed against him fully, loving the way he gripped me almost possessively. His hand came up to the back of my neck so that he could kiss me exactly like he wanted, making everything inside of me explode with heat. Holy moly. Who knew the Gates twins could be so goddamn dominant?

I loved it.

Maybe if I kept asking him questions he would keep kissing me.

“Nothing to talk about.” He pulled away, flashing me a smile.“Yet.”

“Yet?” I asked as he opened the car door, turning off the vehicle and lifting me out of his lap.

“Want to watch a movie till the others get back?” His change of direction gave me whiplash as I nodded. Maybe I was losing it. Did I need to tell him I’d also kissed his brother today? Oh crap, he already knew… and he kissed me anyway? A woman could get used to this… which was exactly the problem.

“Why Dermot’s house?” I asked curiously as he led me through the elegant garden out front, my chest warming. I’d always loved this house. It had massive rooms for styling, and there were always a million ideas running through my head on how to change it.

“I like it better,” he admitted. “Plus, don’t you love this house?”

“You know I do.” I offered a small smile.

“Wedoknow,” he mused, making me arch a brow.We?

Shaking my head, I momentarily gave into the craziness, figuring I wasn’t about to get the answer to the only question that wasn’t going to go away.What the hell was going on here?


Tags: M. Sinclair The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Erotic