Page 48 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

She wrinkles her nose again, but the corner of her mouth lifts in a half-smile. The first smile she’s given me today. It’s small, but it’s real, and I’m greedy enough to want another.

I take a step closer.

She doesn’t back away. Her hand is still wrapped around her cup, but her eyes lift to mine.

I reach out and set my smoothie on the counter without breaking eye contact. Then I close the rest of the distance between us. My hand slides to the counter behind her. I lean in slowly, close enough that I can feel her exhale on my mouth.

“Tell me to go home if you want,” I murmur.

Her fingers go still around the cup.

Then she kisses me.

My hand lifts instinctively, cupping the back of her head. I brush along her face as I lean in, needing more. I feel the smallest sound catch in her throat. It’s brief, barely a moment—then she pulls back.

“Yeah,” she says, blinking up at me with a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “That’s as disgusting as advertised.”

I laugh. Every part of me still leans toward her. I nearly weep with relief when she doesn’t pull away.

Her eyes flick over my face. That shield she’s been holding up starts to slip, just a little.

I press another small kiss to her lips because I can’t help myself. When I pull back, her eyes have softened.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “For taking care of me last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

She leans into the counter behind her. “You didn’t exactlytake careof me, though.”

My brow arches.

She gives me a pointed look. “Your lips made promises your body didn’t deliver on.”

My blood rushes south so fast I nearly forget how to stand.

“Last night…you needed to be held more than you needed to be taken.”

Her eyes stay on mine.

“But I haven’t stopped thinking about what it would feel like to do both.”

She sets the smoothie down.

“So do it.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. My mouth is on hers before the sentence finishes echoing in my head. Her lips part under mine and I take full advantage of them. Her hands slide up my chest, catching in the fabric of my shirt. She pulls me in, and I go without hesitation.

Her breath stutters against my mouth as I grip her thighs and lift her up. She clings to me as I carry her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

Once we’re in her room and I’ve locked the door, and tested the lock, I don’t waste time.

I pull her shirt over her head. I nearly lose it when I find her bare underneath. Her nipples are already tight. I palm her breasts and roll one of her nipples between my fingers. Her head falls back with a quiet gasp. I trail kisses along the column of her throat.

I reach behind me and grab a fistful of my own shirt, dragging it over my head and blindly tossing it to the side. She caresses my chest, continuing down my stomach, and lower.

“Still want me to take care of you?” I ask.

Her eyes flash. “You said you haven’t stopped thinking about it.”