Falling For My Ex’s Older Brother (Billionaire Brothers Obsession)

Prologue

Logan

She wore that dress — dark, fitted, the kind of thing that makes a man lose his train of thought mid-sentence.

She stood beside me for four hours at the Calloway Foundation gala, composed and effortless, and somewhere during the second hour I stopped pretending I wasn't acutely aware of every inch of her.

She turned to say something to me once, close enough that I caught her perfume, and I held my gaze on her mouth for exactly two seconds longer than I should have, and neither of us acknowledged it. That’s become the rhythm between us: notice everything, say nothing, keep moving.

But I’m done with all of that.

She's standing near the windows now. Manhattan sprawls forty floors beneath her, amber and indifferent, carrying on without any awareness of what is about to happen up here.

She reached up a few minutes ago to take the pins from her hair — one at a time, unhurried — and I stood across the room and watched every single one drop into her palm.

Her blonde hair falls loose down her back now, and the dark dress still clings to every curve I have spent three months cataloging against my will.

The Westfield notes sit untouched on the table where we left them.

That was the stated reason she came up — an efficient continuation of a long evening, the car already waiting, my building closer than hers.

I told myself that when I suggested it, and again in the elevator, and again when I opened a bottle of wine that neither of us pretended was about the Westfield notes.

She turns from the window. Her eyes find mine with the precision that always unsettles me — like she always knows exactly where I am in a room without searching.

Her lipstick is mostly gone. Her cheeks carry the warmth of the evening, and she is looking at me the way she's looked at me exactly twice before tonight — both times I recalibrated and chose to believe I had misread it.

I have not misread it.

"Logan." My name in her mouth is barely a word. More breath than sound. It lands in my chest and stays there, and I understand that the walls I have been building and reinforcing for forty-six years are rubble.

I cross the room.

"Tell me to stop." My voice comes out lower and rougher than I intend, stripped of its usual register.

"Say it right now. I walk out that door and we don't speak about this again."

She holds my gaze. Her chin lifts slightly — that quiet defiance I've learned to read as distinctly hers. She says nothing.

That silence is the loudest thing I've ever heard.

I step closer to her, wanting to rid us of the space between us. I want to be closer — I have to be. I notice the way her breathing heightens and her lips part when I get closer.

So I get extremely close, our bodies touching. My heart crashes against my rib, threatening to tear out of my body.

I run my hand across her nape, and her chest heaves, her eyes fluttering shut. My tongue sways over my lips as I caress her skin more softly. She moans into my touch, pressing her breasts firmly against my chest.

A groan escapes me when I feel her soft body against mine. The realization that she's not wearing a bra sends a sharp pulse through me, my cock hardening instantly.

Her hands glide across my stomach, then my back, her fingers igniting a fire beneath my skin. Her touch is maddening, and it takes everything in me not to take her right here and now. It's all I want — to bend her over and fuck her until her legs give out beneath her.

I don't delay. I can't. Restraint feels impossible. Lifting her effortlessly into my arms, I carry her to the bed. Gently, I set her down on her feet, and she turns immediately, her eyes urging me to unzip her dress.

I don't hesitate as I lower the zipper, slipping her dress off. The fabric falls to the ground, revealing her completely naked body, and gorgeous form. I exhale sharply, my chest tightening.

She's perfect.

Her lips curl into a seductive smile as she crawls onto the bed, positioning herself in the center. She spreads her legs, giving me quite the view. Daring, but so fucking hot.

I stand at the edge of the bed and let myself look.

For the first time in three months, I let myself look without pulling my gaze away, without recalibrating, without reaching for the discipline that has kept me from this exact moment.

The city light through the floor-to-ceiling windows casts her in something warm and gold, and the contrast of her against my sheets — all warmth and curve and open invitation — hits me somewhere beneath the chest. She knows I'm looking.

She has always known exactly what she does to me, even on the days I refused to confirm it.

Slowly, she moves her hands up, teasing one of her nipples, her gaze locked on mine. It's so fucking hot to watch, and my cock strains in my pants, wanting more than to just watch. I need to touch, to feel her. I groan heavily, pulling my shirt over my head urgently, and tossing it to the ground.

Her eyes burn with hunger as she watches me undress, her hand slipping between her legs to tease her clit. The sight of her pleasuring herself in this moment has me gripping my belt, my control hanging by a thread. She's driving me insane, and she knows it.

I strip off my pants and briefs in one swift motion, then climb onto the bed, hovering over her.

I massage my aching cock, bringing it to its full potential.

She sits up, her fingers trailing down my abdomen, following the sharp lines of my groin as her hand reaches down, and her fingers wrap around my cock as she takes over the stroking.

Her grip is firm and unhurried and the sensation cuts straight through me.

I exhale through my teeth, watching her face while she works her hand along my length — the focus in her expression, the way her bottom lip catches between her teeth — and I give her exactly as long as I can stand it. Which is not long.

My fingers trace the curve of her thigh, sliding upward to cup one of her breasts.

I then move my other hand down her body, finding the space between her thighs. I press a finger to her clit, applying gentle pressure as I move in small circles. Vibrations ripple through her body, and she shudders. Her head falls back, brows knitting together, lips parting slightly.

I tweak one of her nipples between my fingers, flicking her clit softly with the other hand. Her moans fill the room, each one making my cock as hard as a rock. I pinch her nipple harder, tugging slightly, while pressing my finger firmly against her, eliciting another sharp gasp.

Sliding my finger lower, I thrust it into her, her pussy clenching tightly around me.

I smirk as I pump in and out slowly, loving the sound of her moans, and what it does to me.

I push my finger deeper, quickening my pace.

My nose brushes the curve of her neck as I trail kisses up her skin.

I pinch her nipple harder, sucking at the base of her throat, marking her.

I grab her neck tightly, choking her as I kiss her face.

My thumb presses into the side of her throat and I feel her pulse hammering beneath it — fast, exposed, completely present.

She doesn't flinch. She arches into my grip, lashes lowered, mouth open, and what crosses her expression isn't fear.

She wants this. She wants exactly this, and the certainty of it strips away everything that remained of my restraint.

I push her back down onto the bed, my mouth trailing kisses down her body until I reach her breast. I pull one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking hard as my tongue flicks against it. Her head falls back, a soft moan spilling from her lips.

Sliding my finger out of her, I feel her wetness coating my skin. I rub it firmly against her clit, circling faster and harder. She shivers beneath me, and when she can't take it anymore, she grabs my face and pulls me into another searing kiss, our tongues tangling as we devour each other.

Her legs wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me closer until my cock brushes against her entrance. The heat radiating from her is maddening, and I press the tip of my cock against her slick folds, teasing her.

Without hesitation, I slam into her, savoring the way her tight walls stretch around me. She clenches as I fill her completely and I begin to move, my thrusts long and deliberate. Her moans vibrate against my lips as I capture her mouth in another kiss.

My lips trail down her neck as I quicken my pace, each thrust growing harder and deeper. Her head falls back against the mattress, her body trembling as I drive her closer to the edge. The way she responds to me, the way her body moves beneath mine, ignites something primal inside me.

Intertwining our fingers, I pin her hands above her head, my lips grazing her throat as I thrust into her relentlessly.

My stubble brushes against her sensitive skin, earning me another gasp.

I pull back, sitting upright, and lift her onto my lap.

She wraps her legs tightly around my waist as I thrust back into her in the lotus position.

Her tits bounce against my chest as her hands grip my shoulders for support. The friction of her skin against mine, her heat enveloping me, is intoxicating. I feel the pressure building inside me, threatening to break my control.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I groan, my voice rough and breathless.

Her walls tighten around me, and she cries out, her body shuddering. Her moans grow louder as her orgasm wrecks through her, her legs trembling as she clenches around my cock.