He’s insane, like certifiably insane and I’m stuck here, being controlled by his whims until I can get away from him. For a moment I wonder if the guys will help me, then laugh as the ridiculousness of that thought hits me. They must have known what he had planned, they must have helped him, or else why would they all be here too? My stepbrother is condoning his friend keeping me prisoner and no one in this house will help me, no matter what he does to me.

Maybe I just need to play along. I’ve run from him before and it didn’t work, apparently it didn’t even dent his desire for me. If anything, me leaving might have made his infatuation more intense. Perhaps if I give him what he wants he’ll get bored. I’m the one that got away, the great white whale and everyone knows that not having something you desire always makes it feel more special and it’s not until you have it that you realize it’s not as good as you thought it was.

Resolved, I decide it’s time to fight fire with fire. He wants his little bird, I’ll give him a fucking flamingo. Stripping out of my clothes, I change my underwear for a pretty matching set my mom sent me as a gift last Christmas, fluff up my hair and coat my lips in sparkly red gloss. I look like a girl ready to get fucked, but this is what he wants, isn’t it? Me willing and ready.

Pulling out my cell, I type out a message.

Me: What are we eating? I’m starving

His reply is instantaneous.

Bastian: Pasta. I was expecting you to refuse to eat with us.

Me: **Shrugging emoji** Lemons, lemonade, I’m hungry and I hate cooking.

I wait for him to reply, but when nothing comes through, I climb off the bed, walk down the stairs and push at the door. It swings open and I inhale, then force a smile to my lips as I step out onto the landing in nothing but my bra and panties. Not pausing to give myself a moment to run back to the relative safety of my room, I add an extra bit of sway to my hips as I descend the stairs and sashay into the kitchen.

There’s a sharp inhale of breath from someone as I stride into the room, prance over to the table where all of the guys except Clay are sitting, and plop my ass down into Hunter’s lap.

“What the fuck?” Sebastian growls, taking hold of my wrist and dragging me off his friend’s lap.

“Oh something smells good,” I hum, not reacting to the painful hold he has on me, or the horrified look on the other boys’ faces.

“Where the hell are your clothes?”

“Upstairs,” I grin. “Didn’t seem much point putting on clean stuff, especially as I figured I’d be fucking at least one of you before the end of the night. This way I don’t even have to get undressed, you can just pull my panties to the side.”