Page 62 of Claimed By The Other Brother

"I can't stop thinking about you," he says, and the raw honesty in his voice steals the air from my lungs.

"Dax—"

"Tell me you haven't thought about that night." He leans closer, his voice dropping to something almost dangerous.

"Tell me you don't feel this."

I can't lie. Not when he's looking at me like that. Not when my body is already responding to his proximity.

"Of course I've thought about it," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes darken further.

"Then what's stopping us?"

"Everything." I gesture helplessly.

"You're his brother. I was supposed to marry him. This is—"

"Miles made his choice," Dax interrupts.

"He walked away. From you. From any claim he had."

"That doesn't make this okay."

"Doesn't it?" His hand moves from my arm to my waist, pulling mecloser.

"Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you don't want me. And I'll walk away right now."

I should tell him that. Should push him away. Should go back to Jane and Sarah and pretend this conversation never happened. ButI don't say anything.

The alcohol I've been drinking all night is lowering my inhibitions. Making everything feel both sharper and softer at the same time. I glance across the lounge and see Jane and Sarah dancing, flirting with a group of men near the bar. They're distracted, laughing, not paying attention to us right now.

Dax is standing so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Can feel the tension coiled in him, matching my own.

"This is insane," I whisper.

"I know," he agrees, but he doesn't move away.

"We can't—"

"Can't what?" His hand comes up, fingers brushing the bare skin of my arm. The touch is light, almost reverent, but it sends electricity shooting through me.

The memory of his hands on my body floods back. The way he touched me. The way he made me feel. The way he took me apart and put me back together.

I can feel him getting hard. Can see it in the way his jaw tightens, the way his breathing changes. His cock is pressing against his pants, and the knowledge that I'm affecting him this way sends heat pooling low in my belly.

I'm standing on a precipice. One step forward and I fall. One step back and I'm safe. Ishouldstep back. Before I can make the decision, Dax makes it for me.

He grabs me, his hand wrapping around my wrist. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with want.

"Come with me," he says, his voice rough.

"Where?" I breathe.

He doesn't answer. Just pulls me toward him, then guides me through the crowd. We weave between bodies, the music pounding around us. He's searching for something, his hand still wrapped around my wrist like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go.

Then he sees a sign for the bathrooms down a corridor away from the main lounge area. He pulls me down the hallway. There are multiple doors—men's, women's, and at the end, a single private bathroom. Dax tries the handle—it’s unlocked. He pulls me inside and locks the door behind us.