Page 24 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

Now, blinking against the sun, I’m exhausted. I can’t imagine how Travis managed to drag himself out of bed earlier than this.

I get to my feet, stretch, and look around the room, thinking maybe he just went out for coffee or breakfast. But his things—the jacket he hung, the suit he carefully folded, his phone and watch—are gone.

He really fucking left me here.

A laugh erupts from my throat, sharp and a little crazed. I shake my head, starting to gather my things, trying not to think about his head between my legs, his body draped over mine, his hands drawing my hips up and against his.

Fuck him.He really left.

It’s not like I was expecting a proposal or anything, but what kind of fucked up is it to sneak out? It would be one thing if last night really was just a hook-up, but it wasn’t. We stayed up all night talking. He made me feel like he wanted to know me.

Maybe I should be embarrassed. The logical voice in my head says that maybe, after two bad encounters with the Oakley boys, I should just retreat back to the house with my roommates and steer clear.

But I don’t want to steer clear. I want a fucking apology.

I get ready in a rage, which is probably why I pull on the dress from last night. I twist my hair into a clip, pull out a few tendrils, and admire myself in the mirror—knowing from the wide, unfocused look in my eyes that I’m being a little crazy—before slamming out of the hotel room.

And this time, I order the fucking Uber.

Surprisingly, my contractor badge lets me scan in to the Onyx building even though it’s Sunday morning. I scan it again for the elevator, thinking that surely I’ll be stopped at some point in the process.

But I make it all the way to the top floor and past Dianne’s empty desk without a single person or door to stop me. For a second, I pause and look at the little potted cactus with Dianne’s stuff, the framed photos of her kids, before returning to my task and bursting right into Travis Oakley’s office.

Travis stands when I slam through the door, his eyes widening, then trailing down over my body. To anyone else, he might look put-together, well-dressed, but to my eyes, the man looks disheveled.

He looks a little off-balance, like the day hasn’t gone the way he thought it would. There’s a hint of shadow on his jaw, and some under his eyes that point to the night we shared together. When he rakes his gaze up and down my body, it’s with a ragged kind of despair and desire that would make me laugh if I wasn’t so angry.

Yeah, the dress was definitely the way to go.

“Serena—”

“What the fuck?” I ask, stalking toward him, camera bouncing against my hip. “Youleft?”

“I—” he blinks a few times, like it truly never occurred to him that I could have followed him back here. That I might have figured out where he went. Even though this is now the second time that I’ve charged, angrily, into his office.

It occurs to me that I no longer feel angry.

Right now, I’m feeling something completely different. Something simmering in my core, already wanting and ready. Something that’s honestly a little fucked up.

“Serena. This is a bad idea.” Like last time, Travis is standing behind his desk, and I realize with a note of satisfaction that he’s also wearing his suit from the night before. Surely he could have called someone to bring him a change of clothes? And yet, here he is, looking bedraggled and a little off-kilter.

I like it. I like thatIdid it to him.

It’s not like Travis and I know each other well, but from a year of watching him, observing from across crowded rooms and in meetings, then last night—it’s clear to me how much he enjoys being in control.

I think of him firing that security guard the first day I barged in here, and shiver at the show of power. I was completely aroused in that moment, though I tried my best to ignore it.

Moving intentionally, slowly, like a cat stalking prey, I walk closer to him. His eyes shift slowly between dismay, defiance, and desire, a desperate grasping for restraint that makes my core tighten.

“What’s so wrong about bad ideas?” I ask softly, knowing that the sight of me in the dress again makes him want to take it off. I love the weight of his attention, the low simmer of his gaze.

His voice is rough. “You’re my brother’s ex. And a contractor. It was inappropriate?—”

When I reach him, I set a hand on his chest and look up into his face, watching his words fail him at the contact. His chest is warm, and I can picture what it looks like naked. Now that I’ve had him undressed, I can’t imagine going the rest of my life only seeing him like this. Closed off. In a buttoned up suit.

“Alex lost all rights when he did what he did,” I murmur, eyes locked on Travis’s throat for a moment, before they flick up to meet his. “I’d understand if you have some sort of bro code. I mean, maybe Alex would never do something like this to you…”

Something in Travis’s expression flashes. Obviously, Alexwoulddo this. He wouldn’t think twice about getting with one of Travis’s ex-girlfriends. And we both know that. Anyone who’s ever met Alex would know that.