“Here,” he tells Tristian, holding out a hand. I watch, stunned as Tristian covertly passes Rath my damp panties. Between one blink and the next, Rath has slid them into his pocket, eyes returning to the screen. Tristian’s voice is a rough whisper in my ear. “Lift up, just a little—that’s my girl.” I comply automatically, too full of panic and alarm to do anything but move with the current. It isn’t until I feel a hot flash on my backside that I realize he’s pushed his pants down. “Wait,” I hiss, flinching forward. But Tristian just drags me back, whispering, “Relax. No one is going to know,
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