Page 26 of Filthy Rich Brother’s Best Friends (Filthy Rich Harems #5)

Miles

I don’t need to understand body language to know that Reid is pissed the fuck off right now. He slams the door as he comes in from the patio. I don’t have to ask what happened. I already know.

Lola.

I’m not even surprised anymore. He’s been orbiting her for weeks.

And not with any real purpose that I can see.

He’s just…circling. If he wanted something real, maybe I could respect it.

But this? This feels like a game. Push, pull, provoke.

Leave just enough behind to keep her twisted up and second-guessing everything.

Reid shows up when it suits him.

And now that Jude is in the picture, it’s only gotten worse. I don’t think Reid’s even sure if he wants her or if he just doesn’t want anyone else to have her. That hits hard, because Reid knows exactly how I feel about Lola and he’s playing this game anyway.

He doesn’t look at me as he stalks toward the fridge. The man looks like he’s moments away from exploding. I half expect him to grab something and throw it at the wall just to release some of the pent up energy he’s clearly carrying.

“You want to talk about it?”

He yanks open the fridge door and grabs a beer. “Not particularly.”

“Then I’ll do the talking,” I say. “What exactly are you doing?”

His head jerks up. “Excuse me?”

“With Lola,” I clarify.

He finally looks at me, and there’s nothing calm in his expression. “You want to start something with me right now?”

“No,” I say. “I think you’ve already started something. I just don’t know what it is.”

His eyes narrow. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I stand up and look him in the eyes. “It means I’ve watched you play this push-pull game with her for weeks. Actually, years. You get close, then back off. You let her think it means something, then act like it doesn’t. I’m trying to figure out if this is about her…or if it’s just about winning.”

“Mind your own business, Miles.” He walks toward the living room.

“This is my business.”

He stops. “Since when?”

“Since you started treating Lola like something you’re entitled to.” I lean back against the counter. “You’re out there acting like this is a competition.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not for me.”

He sets the beer hard and the foam dribbles over the top. “So, what then? You want her all to yourself?”

“I want you to treat her with respect.”

He snorts. “Spare me.”

“You know how I feel about her. You’ve known for a long time. And you’re still dragging her into this mess because you don’t know what you want.”

He scoffs. “That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“I think you don’t know how to want something without destroying it.”

He doesn’t move. And for a second, I think maybe he’s actually hearing me. Then his mouth twists, and I know better.

I fold my arms. “You’re not just hurting her, Reid. You’re confusing the hell out of her. And I don’t think you even care.”

His jaw is tight, chest rising and falling in short, shallow bursts. “If you want to accuse me of something, then do it.”

“I just did.”

“Don’t pretend you’re any more selfless than I am.”

“I’m not,” I say. “But I know what I want. And I don’t need to break her to get it.”

“This is what we do.”

“Is it? You flirt with Gigi in her kitchen, Reid. It’s right in front of her face, man. You show her how much she doesn’t matter to you every time you get a chance.”

“I haven’t slept with her roommates.”

I blink. That’s the defense? That’s the best he’s got?

“But you let her think you did,” I say. “You let her walk away believing the worst.”

He doesn’t answer. His fingers grab the edge of the counter. I can see the tension vibrating in his shoulders.

“I’m not judging you for fucking up,” I say quietly. “But if you’re not serious about her, you need to stop. Because whatever you’re doing? It’s hurting her.”

His jaw flexes. “Whatever.”

I catch the flash of frustration in his eyes a second before he turns. He mutters something I can’t hear, but the sound of his footsteps pounding toward the back door says enough.

I follow without thinking. I’m not about to let him walk away from this conversation. He yanks the door open with every intention of storming through it?—

But there’s Lola…

She’s standing on the other side of the door with a platter of chicken skewers in her hand. The other hand is lifted halfway in the air like she was about to turn the knob. Jude’s nowhere in sight and I remember now that he had to work at the spa this evening.

Lola’s eyes go wide as they flick between the two of us. And, right on cue, Gigi appears right behind her, wearing some godawful peach dress that makes her look like a piece of candy.

Reid mutters something under his breath and storms past them both.

Gigi trails after him with a sing-song “Reid, wait—” that makes my skin crawl. I don’t bother watching them go. I’m already looking at Lola.

Lola walks into the kitchen and my hand moves toward her. Then I redirect it to the back of my neck. After the way I’ve treated her this week, it’s not my place to offer comfort.I take the grilled chicken from her and place it on the counter.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says.

“You didn’t. Reid is just…being Reid.”

She frowns and then nods. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

I don’t argue. Because she’s right.

She crosses her arms, but it feels more defensive than angry. “So, did I misread that night?”

She keeps going. “I know I shouldn’t have left the way I did in the morning. I panicked. And I’ve tried to talk to you since, but you haven’t exactly made yourself available.”

I stare at her for a second, then let out a slow breath. “You didn’t misread anything.”

That gets her attention.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, Lola,” I say. “And I’ve spent most of that time telling myself it didn’t matter. It wasn’t mutual, and I could live with that. Then it was mutual. And it wasn’t hypothetical anymore.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak.

“I don’t know how to do this with you when you’re in the middle of trying to figure out what you want with Jude. And Reid.”

She flinches and that says everything.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” I say. “But I need to understand what I’m stepping into.”

She looks away, chewing on the inside of her mouth. Then finally she says, “There’s something with all of you. Different things. I don’t know how to make it make sense. I want each of you for different reasons, and I don’t think I can choose without losing something important.”

“And if I asked you to choose?” I ask.

Her eyes meet mine. “Then I’d choose none of you,” she says softly.

She reaches for me, and I’m already reaching back. Her fingers wrap around my wrist, and for a second, neither of us says anything. I feel the tremor in her hand. Then I step forward and pull her in.

I press my mouth to hers and lose myself in the taste of her. She exhales into me and pulls harder at my shirt. I back her into the countertop without meaning to. She gasps when the granite hits her low back. I kiss her again before she can say anything.

Her hands slide beneath my shirt, fingers searching until they reach skin. Her palms press against my stomach.

Lola pulls back. “We shouldn’t do this here.”

“Lola…”

She takes my hand. “Come with me.”

I follow her out the door and across the lawn without hesitation. The grass is damp beneath our feet. When we get to her house she opens the door and pulls me inside.

We move through her house and she doesn’t stop until we’re upstairs. She stops at her bedroom door and she turns to look at me.

I reach for her again and kiss her hard. She moans into my mouth and pulls me forward until we’re inside. She closes the door behind us, locks it and then she walks me backward toward the bed, kissing me the whole way.

I sit down and she straddles my thighs, hands already at my belt buckle. Her fingers move fast, but I catch her wrist before she gets it undone.

“You’re sure?”

She nods. “Yes.”

I let go of her wrist.

She gets my jeans open without much effort. I lift my hips, rip off my jeans and boxers, and toss the condom from my wallet onto the bed. She’s already pulling off her clothes without hesitation. God, she’s so beautiful. And naked in front of me.

I reach for her, palms dancing across the tops of her thighs, up her waist, over the naked curves I’ve only ever imagined. I pull her in and kiss her again. I slide one hand up the back of her neck and hold her still while I kiss my way down her throat.

I ease her down onto the bed and follow.

My mouth moves lower, tasting every inch of her skin.

Every reaction she gives me is a variable I want to test again.

The sound she makes when I drag my lips along the underside of her breast makes my cock jump.

Her thighs tense when I breathe against her lower belly.

And there’s a sharp inhale when I kiss the crease where her hip meets her thigh.

She lets out a deep moan when I spread her open and move my lips to her clit. I drag my tongue in a slow, deliberate circle and feel her shudder.

Fuck.

I do it again. This time I apply pressure with my tongue. Her back arches. Her hands grab onto the sheets and hold tight. She makes a breathless sound that ends in another moan.

I want to know every sound she makes. I want to know how she sounds when I suck instead of lick. So I do. I wrap my lips around her clit and suck.

She moans louder and she grabs the back of my head and pulls me closer.

Damn, she’s wet. Salty, sweet, perfect.

I slide two fingers inside her. Her thighs clamp around my head and her entire body locks up.

“There,” she gasps.

I do it again, fucking her with my fingers over and over again.

Her legs shake. Her breath comes in short bursts. She tries to close her thighs again, but I hold them apart with my free hand and keep my mouth on her.

Every part of her is trembling. Her hips roll against my face, finding the rhythm she needs. I adjust the angle of my fingers and speed up the stroke.

Her whole body goes taut and then shudders as she comes.

I don’t stop. I ease up on the suction but keep going, until her hands are shoving weakly at my shoulders and her voice is cracking on my name.

“Miles—fuck—I can’t?—”

I drag the back of my hand across my mouth and kiss the inside of her knee.

She’s still panting when I rise to my knees and grab the condom. I tear the foil open and roll it on.

I move over her and settle between her thighs.

I enter her slowly.I’m already so close and I want to make this last as long as I can.

She gasps, head tipping back as her body stretches to take me. I pause once I’m fully inside her, one hand braced beside her head, the other anchoring her hip to the mattress. Her thighs tense.

I drag out the second thrust, watching the way her mouth falls open when I sink back in. Her breath catches on the exhale. I do it again.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Take all of it.”

She shudders and clenches around me. I grind in deep and hold it, hips pressed flush against hers.

“You feel that?” I ask, my voice low.

She nods, her eyelashes fluttering against my skin. I draw back and drive in harder. “Oh my god, Miles?—”

I thrust again and her nails dig into my shoulders. I set a punishing rhythm, each stroke harder than the last.

Eventually there’s only skin and breath and the wet slap of bodies and the way she moans my name when she comes again.

I follow her quickly, emptying myself with a groan. My arms give out and I lower myself on top of her, pressing my forehead to her shoulder while I try to catch my breath.

I ease back, just far enough to see her face. She lifts her hand and caresses my cheek.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods without hesitation. “Yeah.”

Her voice is hoarse. Her mouth tips into something that isn’t quite a smile.

I don’t know how to do this part. The women I’ve been with in the past were placeholders.

That seems a terrible thing to say. I wish it weren’t true.

Not one of them really mattered to me. I never really mattered to them either outside of the lifestyle I could offer.

Those women never wanted me , they wanted my bank account.

I roll off her, remove the condom and pull her to me.

Her hand slides up my chest, then to my neck. She shifts closer until her cheek is on my chest.

Then she lifts her head and kisses me softly. When she pulls back, her eyes search mine. “You’re staying, right?”

I don’t even think twice. “Of course I’m staying.”

Her hand finds mine beneath the sheets. She threads our fingers together and closes her eyes. Her breathing evens out first. Mine takes longer.

But I stay.

Because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.