Page 40 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

She bristles. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I take a step forward. “You had no problem taking Wes’s money to get this place started. But let someone show up because they care? That’s too much.”

“You don’t care,” she snaps.

“I do,” I bite out. “You just can’t fucking stand the idea that I might.”

She moves to brush past me, already done with the conversation. I block her path. Her eyes are blazing when they meet mine. My heart stutters.

“Admit you need help.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you fucking do. God, why are you so stubborn!?”

She shoves me. Hard.

She hit my chest with more anger than force, but it still hurts. Her eyes are wild and wide and she’s breathing so hard I’m worried she’s going to need a paper bag soon. She’s seething.

She goes to shove me again, and I grab her wrists without thinking. She steps back. Her spine hits the wall behind her, and I don’t stop until there’s zero room left between us. Her hands are still trapped in mine, caught between our bodies.

I don’t let go when she presses them harder into my chest.

She’s so close I can see every freckle on her face. Her breasts are brushing my stomach. Every inch of her skin is flushed with anger. I can’t take my eyes off of her.

And she’s not shoving anymore.

“You gonna push me again?”

“Maybe,” she whispers.

She’s not happy but she's not pulling away either. I feel her breath on my skin and I can’t even hide my reaction.

She gasps.

Yeah. She feels it.

I’m so fucking hard I might bust the seam of my pants, and now there’s no space left to hide it.

She swallows hard. My eyes are locked on her throat. I feel her fingers twitch where they’re pinned between us. She finally looks up at me.

“You feel that?” I murmur.

She shakes her head but her hands curl into my shirt. I can feel her nails scraping across my skin as they catch on the fabric. I think she’s going to push me again. She pulls me in instead.

“I don’t feel anything,” she says.

“You’re a goddamn liar.”

I close the space between us and crash my mouth into hers. I kiss her—hard—with everything I’ve been holding back for years.

She makes a little sound of surprise, but then she’s kissing me back with the same desperation. Her whole body leans into mine, years of pent-up emotion crashing forward all at once.

Everything else falls away. All I can feel is the press of her mouth against mine. She moans when I slide my hand down her back, and that sound—fuck. That sound shoots straight through me.

Her fingers thread through my hair and tug. I groan, then growl low in her ear, “You always this needy when you’re mad at me?”

She nips my bottom lip. “Go to hell.”