Page 79 of My Ex's Brothers

He stands up taller, his gaze soft. “I?—”

I take two steps forward and grab him by the throat. I gently pull him down, and he stumbles a bit from the surprise, but the minute his mouth meets mine, he relaxes, and so do I.

His hands come to settle at my waist and he kisses me. Slowly.

I pull him against me, and we stumble backward until my back hits the door, which swings open, dragging us both in rather ungracefully. I laugh a bit through our kiss and he does too, but he doesn’t stop. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and his hands slide from my waist to my ass, and then he picks me up.

It doesn’t feel weird or complicated when I wrap my legs around his waist, or when his mouth finds my jaw, my neck. It doesn’t feel wrong in the least when I let out a deep moan from my chest because God, his mouth feels so good I don’t want him to stop.

But then I remember where we are. And who else might be here.

And the last thing I want is for things to become morecomplicatedthan they are right now.

“Dane,” I breathe, and he stops. My arms tighten around his neck as he holds me still against the door, and for the briefest moment I can feel his hardness, twitching against my heat.

“What about the others…” I say, not wanting to destroy this perfect moment, but needing to reel myself in.

“Richie’s out. Car’s not here,” he breathes heavily. “Tripp has class late on Tuesdays. He usually goes out afterward. Probably won’t be home until after midnight.”

“Lyla?” I ask, my voice creaking.

“Is with her grandparents all night.” He looks at me with wistful eyes, his cock pressed against the mound of my jeans, his kiss-swollen lips reminding me how plump and soft they are against my mouth, my skin.

My heart races in my chest, my fingers squeezing his neck just the slightest, seeking grounding, seeking permission.

“It’s just you and me, sweetheart,” he says softly. He swallows, hard, his gaze drifting from my mouth to my eyes. “If you want me to stop, I?—”

I shake my head. I don’t want him to stop. Not one bit, I just?—

The words don’t make it out of my mouth before I crush my lips against his again. He sucks in a breath, his fingers squeezing my ass where he holds me.

“Please don’t stop,” I tell him. That magnetic feeling in my chest, in my pussy, in my freaking bones, ebbs and throbs with desire, with need.

When I pull away and look at him, it’s startling. I think on some level it will always be startling, staring at the face of the man who ruined me, but also staring at the face of the man who found me.

They’re the same face, but they are not the same person.

Dane kicks the door shut before going back to my mouth, and I press myself against him, tightening my grip around his waist. He carries me to the couch where he sets me down, and I pull him close until he’s on top of me.

Our kisses are hot. Heavy. His hands rove over me as his hardness presses against me and I let my fingers trail over every inch of him. My fingers work on unbuttoning his shirt while his hand settles on one side of my throat and his mouth sucks on my neck on the other side.

“Dane,” I sigh, my eyes falling shut. Everything feels hot. His lips, his fingertips. My aching pussy which is already slick.

“Amelia.” His voice is dark but sweet. The way he says my name is like a wish, or a prayer.

His mouth finds mine once again as I slide his shirt off, running my hands over his solid chest, over his abs. His bare chest is warm, hard. My fingers splay over his pecs as I let them move down and feel every inch of his hard-earned muscles. When they trail over the waistband of his pants, he gasps.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, his body tensing beneath me. “Is it too much?”

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss me hard. “No,” he breathes. “It’s not enough.” He presses his erection against me, groaning as he buries his head in my shoulder. “Fuck, Amelia, I just?—”

The tone in his voice is still so full of lust, but there’s something else there. Something deeper. I pull his face up, looking at him with question. “What? What is it?”

My heart pounds in my chest, wondering if I’ve said the wrong thing, or perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m his twin’s ex. Perhaps it’s the fact that I still haven’t shed the twenty pounds I gained before I had Lyla.

Perhaps it’s?—

Dane looks at me with that reverent gaze once more, reaching his hand out to stroke my cheek. His thumb moves over the soft skin there as his dark eyes implore me.

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