Page 69 of My Ex's Brothers

Amelia doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just…get off and leave. Maybe it’s something else. But I can’t help but feel like maybe I did something wrong. That I wasn’t good enough, or something. Fuck, I don’t know.

I undress myself, breathing out a heavy sigh. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should just call it a night. I get down to my underwear, noting how hard I still am. It’s not that I expected her to return the favor, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed because just hearing her say those words—I want to taste you—had me fucking harder than I want to admit.

I shove down my underwear and get comfortable on my bed.

The room is quiet, save for the opening of my drawer and the sound of the cap popping off my lube. I don’t waste my time warming the cool liquid in my hands and sliding my hand around my cock. I lick my lips, savoring the remnants of her taste there.I made her come. Twice.

I close my eyes and jerk myself as fast as I can while I lick my lips. Knowing the fingers wrapped around my cock are wet with lube and her scent, thinking about just how tight and wet her pussy would feel around my cock has me groaning out my release. I come hard, my eyes practically rolling back in my head as I shoot my load all over my fucking chest.

My breathing evens as I stare at the ceiling, feeling guilty as all hell.

It isn’t until my heartbeat evens and my wet dick has gone limp that I get up and head to the bathroom. I don’t bother showering, because I shower every morning before breakfast. Instead, I wipe up my cum with a warm rag and stuff my dick back where it belongs, and then I crash on top of my covers until sleep pulls me under.

When I wake up,I feel exhausted.

I didn’t sleep well. I tossed and turned all night, and yet somehow I’m still up earlier than usual. But I figure there’s no point in going back to sleep now. So I get up and shower, and head to the kitchen.

I stop in my tracks when I see a familiar blonde messy bun. A familiar ass in bunny-print pajamas.

“Tripp…” she breathes, her gaze flashing from my dick to my face with heat.

“I didn’t see you there,” she says, her voice cracking.

I give her a half-hearted smile. “But you see me now, right?” I say, trying to be cool. Funny. But looking at her just makes me feel like an idiot.

I should not have pressed her, should not have pushed so hard. The alcohol is definitely to blame. I don’t regret what happened, but I just wish I hadn’t been so forward about it.

Amelia deserves better than that, and I?—

“I’m sorry,” I say as I head for the fridge. She settles Lyla in her high chair, turning her back to me.

“About what?” she asks, trying to play cool herself, but I can hear the way her voice shakes a bit. I hate that. Hate that I may have made her feel awkward or afraid or?—

“For uh…pushing you. Last night. I?—”

I let out a sigh as I open the fridge. It’s rare that I’m up before Dane or Richie. Usually Dane is the first one up and breakfast is ready and served by the time I make it out here. But with it being so early—six a.m., to be exact—I know Dane won’t get up for a few hours, so I might as well work on making breakfast, even if it’s just for me and Mia. And the little princess.

I pull out some eggs and cheese, some bacon bits. Some peppers.

“You didn’t,” she says with a sigh. I can feel her gaze on me, but I focus on breaking the eggs into the pan. One at a time.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” I say. The eggs sizzle and I keep my sights on my task. Lyla makes sounds behind me, and then suddenly I feel her.

Amelia. My space gets warmer the closer she gets.

“You didn’t,” she says softly. “You were…great, Tripp. It’s just?—”

That gets me to turn my head and raise an eyebrow.

“Really?” I ask nervously. I reach one hand behind my head as I brace my other hand against the counter. The sizzle of the eggs echoes between us. I take in the sight of her with her half-undone bun and the sun shining on her, lighting up her cute pajamas, her bright blue eyes.

Her gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth before she looks down at the ground. “Really, I just?—”

Without thinking, I reach one hand out and settle it on her hip. I tug her close. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is you have to say, I promise I won’t be mad.”

She sinks into my hold, flashing those bright blue eyes up at me with interest. A small smile tugs in the corner of her lips.

“It’s just…I like you, Tripp,” she says softly.

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