Page 22 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“You like that?”

“Yes,” she manages, inhaling sharply when I rub circles along her ass, not penetrating, just letting her know Icould.

This is heady. My entire being vibrates with the urge to push further—see how far she’ll let me go. But the responsible partof me halts all forward momentum like a slammed brake.She’s brand new to this,it reminds me. She needs time to think, to not just be swept away in the moment.

I glance over my shoulder, spotting Hunter leaning in the bedroom doorway. He’s shirtless, arms folded, a wolfish grin playing on his lips as he watches the scene. My pulse flares even higher. I like having an audience. But I steel myself, forcing my hand away from her body. She whimpers at the loss of contact.

“Stand up,” I order, gently patting the side of her hip.

She rises, looking dazed, her eyes half-lidded. Confusion flickers across her face. “What did I do wrong?”

I touch her cheek, guiding her to face me. “Nothing. You were perfect—” I drop my tone. “My perfect pet.” The endearment slips out, and her lips part in a soft exhale. “But we’re not going any further tonight.”

She blinks. “Why not?”

Behind her, I sense Theo and Hunter stepping closer. I need to shut them down too. “You need to sleep on this. Before we go deeper, I want you to be absolutely sure this is what you want. If we rush into something you’re not ready for, we risk regret tomorrow. Things are currently complicated enough without adding more into the mix.”

She looks torn, desire warring with hesitation. Finally, she nods, though a hint of frustration shows in her expression. “Okay,” she whispers. “I—I understand.”

I run my thumb over her lower lip, a silent reassurance. “Go on,” I murmur, stepping aside so she can pass. “Get ready for bed.Tomorrow, if you’re still all in, I promise we’ll show youexactlywhat your body can handle.”

Her breathing hitches, but she ducks her head and hurries off to the small bedroom that’s hers alone. She disappears behind the door, leaving us with the echo of her soft footfalls.

Hunter exhales, stepping into the living area. “You really had to put the brakes on right there, huh? Looked like the perfect segue.”

Theo touches the table where she was just bent over moments ago. “Perhaps you’re right, though,” he says, his formal tone tempered by the heat in his gaze. “If we go too fast, we’ll risk overwhelming her—give her reason to regret us as much as she regrets Calvin.”

“Exactly.” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. My own desire still rages in my veins, adrenaline pumping, my body screaming at me for stopping. But my mind knows it was the right call. “I don’t want her to think we’re jumping on the chance to share her just because we can. She needs time to accept the idea, to want it wholeheartedly.”

Hunter nods, leaning against the wall. “Fair enough. Can’t argue with that. She’s been through a lot.”

Theo arches a brow, then shrugs. “You have our support. We’ll follow your lead for now.” He casts another glance at the closed bedroom door, then at the table. “Still, she’s quite receptive. If her face just now was any indication…”

“She’s into it.” My mind flashes with the memory of her parted lips and trembling sighs. “But she’s also riding a wave of impulse. We want her to be sure.”

They both give me a nod, and Theo heads toward our shared room, presumably to get ready for bed. Hunter follows, though he pauses at the threshold to grin back at me. “Don’t stay up too late, big bro. We’ve got a drive tomorrow.”

I wave him off. “Go on.” My voice sounds hoarse, even to my own ears. Once they’re out of sight, I sink onto the lumpy couch in the living area, raking my fingers through my hair.

Reaching for the canvas bag where I stash my knitting, I pull out a half-finished scarf in navy-blue yarn. I cast on a row and start working the needles methodically, letting the repetitive action calm me. My heart gradually slows, but the ache in my chest doesn’t fade.

She’s everything Calvin never deserved,but do we deserve her?

Because it hits me, as I knit in the dim glow of the overhead lamp, that this arrangement—teaching her, guiding her, letting her taste what real freedom feels like—is designed for her to walk out of our lives eventually. I don’t know if I can handle that.

She might find a new path, a new direction, or maybe decide she only wants one of us. The possibility slashes through me like a blade, though I know I have no right to hold on to her. She’s her own person, and this is meant to be temporary, isn’t it?

Will I be able to let her go?

It’s a foolish question to be thinking about so early on, but it’s the one that keeps ringing in my ears all the same. I stare down at the yarn, forcing my fingers to continue knitting row after row, a mechanical motion that steadies me. The motel suite is quiet—Hunter and Theo must be settling in, and Anya is behind that door, no doubt as restless as I am. Sleep might elude us all tonight.

I keep at it, soft loops forming under my hands, my thoughts spinning. The memory of her gasping under my palm, of her arching against the table, replays again and again. Desire still pounds in my blood, but I push it aside. Tomorrow might bring clarity, or maybe a spiral of chaos.

Either way, I’ll keep her safe, physically and emotionally. That vow stands above everything else.

So I knit, the gentle clicking of needles my only companion, hoping the slow rhythm will lull me into some sort of peace before dawn. As if any peace could be had tonight.

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