Page 36 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

No. They’re not.

I spin away, spotting the soap on the corner of the sink. Grabbing my dish, I set it in the sink and try to turn on the water.

“SerenaMacKenzie.” A full-body rush pours through me at the sound of my name on his lips. Ryan moves quickly, blocking my advance on the sink, spinning me around, and pinning me against the counter. His body is warm and he smells so good. “You’re not very good at listening, are you?”

Once again, I’m faced with something Iwant.

My entire body wants Ryan—in fact, I want him more than just physically. One night sitting at his counter, and I can see many more in the distance. Eating his food, hearing his addictive laugh.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Wanting so much all at once, when I never wanted Alex like this. Not his body, not his touch, and not our future together.I’d settled for it like a dentist’s appointment. A requirement. Something you do once you become an adult.

“You should know that I’ve been with other men,” I croak.Christ, am I trying to think of the least sexy thing to say in this moment? “Recently.”

Ryan’s eyes flash, and he drops his mouth to my neck. His lips are warm, and when he swipes his tongue over my collarbone, he lets out the same sound he did earlier after trying his mocktail. Like I’m a collection of flavors, something he’s been waiting to taste.

“I’d tell you to invite them along,” he murmurs into my skin, “but just for this first time, I’d like to have you all to myself.”

It’s not what I was expecting to hear, and it melts my insides. Maybe he knew that would happen.

What he can’t know is that it brings to mind, instantly, the image of Ryan and Travis in bed with me, their hands everywhere, their mouths on respective sides of my neck. I can see it easily, framed from above, the shot lined up to show all the legs and fingers and the tangle of passion.

Travis, demanding, his hand spread over my neck. Ryan, slow and casual, his fingers scraping over my hips, gathering me up, his mouth lowering to the place between my legs, his eyes narrowing in on the sensation, his favorite thing to do—eat.

“Fuck,” I whisper, without meaning to, and Ryan lets out a pleased sound, gently pulling the soap from my hand like he’s extracting a toy from a toddler.

“Come here,” he whispers, and then his hands are under my ass, and he’s lifting me onto the counter, bringing his mouth hungrily down on my neck, on my collarbone, his lips covering every inch of my exposed skin.

“You smell good,” he rasps, dragging his tongue down to the tie of my blouse. I try at the knot twice before he takes over, loosening the string and pulling the shirt open, so the tops of mybreasts are illuminated by the pendant lights. We’re washed in a warm yellow, and once again, I can see it: a shot framed from the side, my hand tangled in Ryan’s golden curls, the sweet curve of his neck, the eye drawn to how he consumes me.

“You, too,” I say, dumbly, already fumbling at the hem of his t-shirt, wanting nothing more than to get him bare for me.

And when his shirt is off, I pull back for a moment, just looking at him. Maybe it’s just that he’s hot, and I’m a woman, or maybe it’s an obsession over form, over beauty, but the sight of him makes my heart catch in my throat.

His chest and stomach are softer than Travis’s, but fuller. While Travis is all sharp lines and basically no fat, Ryan’s body is gentle, secretly strong. Travis’s physique is all about restriction, while Ryan’s is about surplus. He looks like the kind of man who works hard, and plays hard, too.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asks, his voice sobering slightly, and I realize I’ve been staring at him for far too long.

Swallowing, I shake my head, reach for him, tuck him back between my legs. I want to absorb him, to swallow him whole. I hook my ankles around his back and let myself touch him, too, kissing his warm, freckled shoulders and his chest, letting my hands travel up and down his abs, fingers slipping just under the waistband of his sweatpants.

We kiss like that for a long time, bodies moving together, finding new ways to take the other’s breath. Ryan says that I’m beautiful, that my skin is soft, that I smell like scones, that he wanted to take me home that first night, that waiting has only made him want me more.

And when I wind both hands into his hair and tug, he wastes no time in dropping to his knees in front of me. We work together to shirk my pants, my underwear, and then he’s tasting me, his mouth explorative then uncompromising against my clit,two fingers sneaking inside me and curling atexactlythe right angle.

I lean back, gasping for air, and Ryan reaches up, finding my nipples greedily even as he takes every part of me below.

My orgasm is an appetizer, quick and warm and like the rocking of a paper boat on the water, then Ryan is standing, wrapping my legs around him again, his sweats riding lower and lower on his hips as he carries me, effortlessly, to his bedroom.

Chapter 19

Ryan

It’s not bragging to say that I’ve been with a lot of women. When I first arrived in the city, I was taken with the sheer number and variety, and felt I had to try them all. Every woman who showed even theslightestinterest in me came back to my bedroom. I reveled in their hips, their curves, the taste of themeverywhere.

And yet, somehow, Serena is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I lay her out on my bed, watch her copper hair spread over my pillows like the fanning of sunshine over the horizon. With the taste of her still on my mouth, I stand at the end of the bed, pull her hips down until they’re flush with the mattress, roll on a condom, and notch the head of my cock into her entrance.