Page 17 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

Pressing her hand against her chest, like she’s trying to calm her own racing heartbeat, she bites her lip again, laughter mingling with her breathlessness. “That was…definitely not the good girl route.”

I shrug, playful grin returning. “Welcome to the wild side, kitten.”

8

THEO

Humid night airfills my lungs, hardly the fresh air I hoped for. The worn concrete walkway extends along the second floor, its metal railing overlooking a near-empty parking lot below. Nothing remotely as grand as the balcony at Sins. A neon vacancy sign buzzes faintly, and beyond that, everything is quiet—almost unsettlingly so.

I needed this calm, this distance from the charged atmosphere in the room.

Inside, Hunter is no doubt tempting Anya into more of his mischievous banter, and Gage is probably pacing our room like a restless guard dog, half expecting trouble. I do not enjoy lying to the others. There was no urgent call to make, no pressing emails to send. I simply needed time alone to gather my thoughts.

Gage’s proposal to guide Anya in exploring her hidden desires is uncharted territory for all of us, yet I must concede that I am enticed. We have done similar things at the club, but never with someone we care for in any real way. With Anya, we are crossing a line we can’t uncross, and I’m unsure what to think.

Just as I exhale, steeling myself to go back inside, the door behind me opens. I straighten, turning to see Anya slip out. She closes the door with care and glances around as if to ensure no one is watching. Her hair looks slightly tousled, and she wears a simple sweater over her leggings. In the soft glow of the overhead lamp, her cheeks appear flushed, and her blue eyes dart around, restless.

“Anya,” I say quietly, inclining my head in greeting. “Is everything all right?”

She startles at first, then attempts a smile. “Yes…I just needed some fresh air. Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re no bother.” I hate that she thinks of herself that way. I note her uneasy posture, the way she crosses her ankles as if bracing herself. “It has been quite a day.”

“Your family, you know…you’re all so intense. When you set your mind on something, it’s like you never let it go.” Her voice carries a note of exasperation, yet also a faint admiration.

“We do have a certain zeal, yes,” I admit, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Though, from my perspective, Calvin does a great deal of letting go. He certainly letyougo far too easily.”

She blinks, taken aback by my directness. Then, just as quickly, she forces a small laugh. “I wouldn’t say it waseasy. He fought to maintain control until the very end.” Her brow furrows. “But…maybe you’re right. In any case, it’s over, and that’s that.”

I study her face in the semi-darkness. Breathtaking, truly. “Calvin is a fool.”

She appears caught by my words. Then she offers a dismissive shrug, turning away from me to rest her forearms on the railing. “He’s the past. And I’d rather focus on what’s next.”

I can practically feel the tension emanating from her. Stepping beside her, I allow my elbow to brush her arm—a gentle, reassuring contact. “What is next?”

“I’m not sure.” Her voice is low, not a whisper, but not solid words either.

“You tell us you want to explore, but you’re uncertain how far to go. The club we own—Sins—is dedicated to the idea of safe exploration. That is what we can provide.”

She fidgets with the railing, biting her lip. “I know.”

I dip my head, considering how best to phrase the next part. “You see, Sins is about fulfilling curiosity in acontrolledenvironment. For some, it is an outlet for kinks they can’t share anywhere else. For others, it’s a way to dabble in something new—if only once—so they know whether it resonates with them.” A hint of a smile tugs at my mouth. “I have witnessed, and at times participated in, nearly every kind of fantasy you might imagine. And if you worry about shocking me, I assure you, I have likely encountered far more scandalous requests.”

“Like…what do you mean?” she asks hesitantly, though her tone suggests she both wants and fears the answer.

My heart quickens at her question. It’s one thing to speak of fantasies in the abstract, but entirely another to share specifics with a woman who may find them alarming or enticing—or both. However, I sense she is searching for honest reassurance that she will not be judged.

So be it.

I clear my throat. “Kinks,” I say, keeping my voice low, “range widely. Some revolve around bondage—ropes, cuffs, and intricate knots. For some, it’s the mere order to hold still that binds them. Others favor role-play, age play, pet play, costume fantasies. Then there are those who prefer more straightforward impact play, like spanking or flogging, or perhaps edge play involving heightened sensations. Some play with food, others use sensory deprivation. If there is an experience in the human condition, someone somewhere has fetishized it.”

She stands very still, eyes wide. “I…I had no idea it was that…extensive.”

A wry chuckle escapes me. “Most people don’t, at first. But once they step into the scene, they realize how vast it is. That is precisely why I say you need not fear shocking me, Anya. You can speak your mind, share any flicker of curiosity, and I will not blink.”

She swallows. Her cheeks are bright pink now, and she lowers her gaze to the chipped concrete at our feet. “I’m not sure what I’m into,” she admits, voice trembling with nerves. “But hearing you say things like…spanking or…bondage. It’s overwhelming.”

Overwhelming is a gentle word for how she’s feeling right now. I see it in those damn doll eyes of hers, in the way she nibbles her lip. She wants this.