Hard Bastard(81)
“No, I didn’t hear.”
“Yeah. I saw him downstairs.”
“That’s good.”
She paused again and looked like she wanted to say something else, but I started to play again. Distracted, she watched as I moved through the song. I made a few mistakes, but I wasn’t sure she noticed them. I wasn’t usually so self-conscious, but there was something about the way she looked at me and the way her body made me feel that made concentrating on the music pretty damn hard.
It was the opposite of calming. It was distracting. Finally, the song ended, and I sat back.
“You’re good at that,” she said.
“I had a good teacher. In Helsinki.”
“Helsinki? You lived there?”
“For a while, yeah.”
“Based Carter. Such a cool guy.” She laughed.
I grinned at her. “Damn right I am. I’m the only guy that can make a cane look sexy.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
I shifted closer to her and smiled. “You’re not sneaking a peek at me every time I limp by?”
“Definitely not.” She blushed and looked away.
“I’m sure you’re not, Brie baby. Wouldn’t want to do anything wrong.”
Her face snapped back. We were inches apart. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
She was clearly struggling with her temper.“Don’t be an asshole, Lincoln. I was about to tell you that Dad convinced me to do another interview for your movie.”
I blinked, surprised. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Jess is going to be psyched. You sure you want to?”
“Yes. I mean, no, not at all. But Dad made some good points, and you did too, and I don’t know.” She paused. “I’ll give it one more shot.”
I laughed, surprised by how quickly she changed her mind. She shifted away and stood, crossing her arms again and looking down at me.
“But you have to promise not to pull that same shit from last time.”
I smiled innocently. “What shit?”
“You know what I mean.”
I laughed. “What, rile you up?”
She gave me a look. “Yeah, dick. That.”
“But it’s so easy.”
“Do you want me to do the interview?”
“I can take it or leave it, honestly.”
She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t mess with you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. No bullshit.”
She gave me a long look, and I wanted to pull her back into my lap and bury my face in her full tits. I wanted to bite her lip and feel the soaking wet spot between her legs. I wanted to fuck her up against the piano and let it crash to the ground as I made her come.
Instead, I said nothing as she nodded her approval. “Okay. Let me know when you want to do it.”
“I’ll see what Jess says.”
She turned and began to walk out. I stared at her perfect ass. “Back to work for Jules now. Don’t hurt yourself limping back downstairs.”
I laughed. “Don’t let her work you too hard.”
I’d rather be the one working you, I thought, but left that unsaid.
She waved and was gone.
I stared at the door for another second before glancing down at my watch. Twenty minutes had passed since I was supposedly taking a shower, and I was sure Jess would be storming up the stairs any minute to yank me out.
Better get in there before she caught on to my dirty little piano secret.
In pain, but still half hard from being so close to Aubrie, I limped down the hall and started the shower. Two minutes later, as if on cue, Jess began banging on the door and demanding that I come out and get ready for the next shoot.
It never ended. But at least Aubrie seemed like she was coming around.
I grinned into the shower water and willed my hard-on away.
Chapter 7
Aubrie
The ceiling fan in my room was busted, which meant I kept tossing and turning in bed, trying to get to sleep despite the heat. I was practically drenched in sweat, which was pretty gross, but it would have been fine if I could at least pass out and deal with it in the morning.
Instead, I kept thinking about Lincoln. I kept thinking about my stepbrother’s smile, his body, and the weird darkness that was behind everything he did. On the surface, he was cocky and carefree and happy, but I was beginning to sense something else lurking below everything he said and did. Worst of all, I kept obsessing about the way he made me feel when I was around him, the tightness in my chest, the excitement running up along my spine.
And when he began to play that song, singing it sad and loud and slow, it felt like he was singing right to me. That was stupid, I knew, since it was a love song, and who sang a love song like that to their stepsister?