Page 97 of Naughty & Nice

“Maybe. But did it feel right?”

I think for a moment. “I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t. You wouldn’t have either.”

“No,” he muses.

“Were you really okay with it? Watching him… touching me?”

He bites down on his lip. For a moment I almost believe he’s thinking, but I quickly learn that he’s trying to stop his grin from breaking through.

“Rix,” I cry, playfully slapping him on the shoulder.

“What? Trust me, if it were anyone but Wilder, I’d have real fucking issues with it. But it’s Wild. I trust him. He won’t hurt you. And let’s face it, we both know he’s had enough practice to ensure he’ll make you feel good.”

Hell, didn’t he ever.

“I know but… you don’t and?—”

“You’re worried that I’ll compare myself to him?” he finishes for me.

“Yeah. I know that we already fucked up. I don’t want to give you any reason to think that I want him more than you. I don’t. He’s fun, sure. But it’s you, Rix. You’re the one who owns my heart.” I press my hand to my chest, right over the organ in the hope it helps prove my words.

“I know,” he whispers. “It’s me and you, Elle. It was always meant to be. Having some fun with Wilder while we’re stuck here doesn’t change that.”

“This is crazy. You have to know that.”

He laughs again. “Oh, I know.”

We don’t say anything else. Instead, his lips find mine and we make out for what feels like hours before I finally fall asleep in his arms.

Iwake with a start.

It’s late. Later than I’ve woken in a really long time.

The sun isn’t shining, but it’s light out.

I don’t move; instead, I keep my head on the pillow and watch Rix sleep.

He looks so peaceful, so content.

Unable to stop myself, I think back to last night.

He told me that he was okay with what happened, but concern still knots up my insides. Wilder and Hendrix have a close relationship, I know that better than anyone. But I’m also aware of how frustrated Rix can get with his brother.

Rix sees Wilder as the ‘better’ twin. I hate it. Just because Wilder got better grades at school and can catch a football, it doesn’t make him a better person. But Hendrix has always felt like he’s in Wilder’s shadows, fighting and failing to stand up.

I find it hard to believe a little bit of that didn’t slip in last night.

Our friendship—our relationship—might be solid, but insecurities aren’t that simple.

It tells me a lot about the trust he has in me, in our connection.

He’s right, and as far as I’m concerned, there isn’t anyone else in the world I want—would ever want—more than Rix, and it warms my heart to know he feels the same way.

I’m so lost in my own thoughts that when something—someone—moves behind me, I almost scream bloody murder, or at least I would if a large hand doesn’t cover my mouth.

“You think really loudly,” Wilder whispers. “Woke me up.”

He shuffles forward, and I suck in a sharp breath as his hot skin lines up against mine, the hardness of his morning wood against my ass.

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