LINCOLN
THREE DAYS AGO
Listening to my brother with my girl is a fucked-up thing. It’s not like I intended on it, but she isn’t exactly quiet. A grin tugs at my lips at the thought of her crying out beneath me. Soon enough, I’ll have her to myself again.
First, I have to get through the rest of this week and the party on Saturday. If I can survive that, then I can start planning a way to make Georgia think she was the one to decide against this farce of an engagement. I clench my fists just thinking about the corner Harrison has me backed into.
I’ve been trying to fight off my demons all night, and despite the hell I put my body through tonight, nothing, not even my exhaustion can keep them away.
Even in my sleep they haunt me.
Octavia might say she’s understanding of what I’m having to do, but if I saw her with anyone who wasn’t part of our group, I’d burn down the fucking world, so I know there is no way in hell she’s actually handling it as well as she’s trying to pretend she is.
Or maybe she’s less of a jealous asshole than I am.
I turn on the shower in my bathroom and hit play on my playlist so the room fills with music that matches my mood. When Bring Me The Horizon screams through the speakers, I strip out of my workout gear while I wait for the water to heat.
Stepping beneath the scalding water does nothing to distract me from the bullshit I’ve got to try and work my way through, but it does at least help loosen some of the tension in my shoulders. I lose myself to the music and the beat of the water as it assaults my skin.
I lean my head forward, resting my forehead against the cold tile, the clash in temperature sending a shiver down my spine.
The thought of Octavia writhing beneath my brother down the hall plays in my mind, and while it shouldn’t be hot to think of her with the others, it is. Especially when I know there are some noises she makes that are just for me.
The caveman inside of me likes that a lot.
I freeze at the feel of fingertips on my spine. “Happy to see me, I see.”
My jaw clenches at the sound of her voice. “Why are you in my shower, Georgia?”
I don’t turn to face her, because Harrison’s words ring out in my head, my hard on officially disappearing.
“Your dad gave me a key to this place. I thought I’d come surprise you, show you just how good we can be together. I know all about the other girl, but I can make you forget all about her.”
She presses her chest to my back and a growl escapes me.
She seems to mistake it for encouragement and traces her fingers around my ribs to my chest. “I knew you’d forget her when you felt me pressed against you.”
I have never felt more violated in my entire fucking life—and that’s no small feat—and I remain still, trying to work out how to get her the fuck out of my shower without putting Octavia at risk. If Harrison gave her a key, I’m sure he encouraged all of this, and I’m also sure that she’ll run back to him if I flat out reject her.
I’m going to be fucking sick.
She palms my limp dick and giggles. “I’m sure I can change his mind about me too.”
“Let go of my dick, Georgia.” I clench my fists, but she squeezes rather than letting go with another laugh.
Fuck this.
I grab her wrist, squeezing hard enough that she gets the message, and she releases me. I spin, keeping my hold on her wrist, and face her. I keep my eyes on hers, not bothered about whatever her body looks like, because she’s not Octavia.
“Harrison may have invited you into my house, but I sure as fuck didn’t invite you into my shower. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but when it comes to my dick, I make the rules.”
Her nostrils flare as I push her back against the tile, keeping a distance between us.
“I know you want me, Lincoln.” She glances down at my dick and smiles maliciously. “You can try to fight it, but you won’t win.”
Her eyes glint as I let go of her, hating the feel of her skin against mine, and storm from the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist before leaving the room.
Fuck this shit. Fuck it all to hell.
I wonder if I can get Octavia out of the country and out of my father’s reach. I’m positive she’ll fight me on leaving—she fights me on everything—but maybe if I try to explain it to her…
Georgia strides into my room, still fully naked, dripping onto my carpet. She stalks toward me and fingers my towel where I’ve knotted it. “I’m fairly certain you don’t want your father to know you’re rejecting me. I’ll let it pass for now, but make no mistake, Lincoln. I get what I want. Always.”
She picks up a slip of black material I hadn’t noticed by my door and pulls the dress over her head until she’s covered. “I’ll see you on Friday, fiancé.”
Waving her fingers at me, she leaves the room with a smile, closing the door behind her.
What the fuck am I going to do?