Page 48 of Naughty & Nice

“What?” she asks innocently as she does it again.

Sliding my hand from her hip, I slip it under both my hoodie she’s still wearing and her tank.

There’s a part of me that fears she’s going to stop me. Us cuddling while watching a movie might not be all that unusual; being this close and intimate certainly is.

But she doesn’t, and as my fingers hit her ribs, the breath I didn’t know I was holding rushes out of me.

I move higher, but my confidence wanes when I brush the underside of her braless breast.

Oh my god. Am I actually doing this?

My stomach flutters and my dick aches.

Sensing that I’m second-guessing myself, Noelle’s palm skims up my forearm before resting it over the back of my hand as she guides me higher.

“Fuck,” I breathe as I take the fullness of her breast in my hand. I almost come in my pants for the second time in a day.

Gently, I squeeze, and a smile pulls at my lips when a moan rumbles quietly in her throat.

She likes it.

Pushing myself up, I roll over her slightly, needing to see her reaction to my touch as well as feel it.

With my confidence growing, I pull my hand back a little and brush my thumb over her peaked nipple.

Her eyelids lower and a small gasp passes her lips.

I did that.

Pride and the need for more flood through me.

I want to hear her moaning like she was earlier.

I want to watch her lose control.

“Will you two just go to bed and let me watch this shit without getting turned on?”

I still before my eyes lift to my brother. But much to my surprise, he isn’t watching us. Instead, he’s still staring at his cell—not the shitty movie. He does have his hand inside his shorts, though. It’s not an unusual position for him to sit in, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s teasing us or…

Does he still want her?

Fuck. Of course he does. She’s Noelle. And just like he pointed out earlier, she’s hot. Not his usual type, but still hella hot. And if he does still want her, does she want him? Would she choose him?

My concern only grows when she tugs my hand from beneath her tank and rolls off the couch.

In my head, I picture her walking over to him, holding her hand out and then leading him to the bedroom, leaving me here alone.

I’m so lost in my fear of being second best that I totally miss what actually happens.

“Rix?” she asks, staring down at me with concern in her eyes.

She hasn’t gone to him.

She’s with me.

Waiting for me.

“Shit,” I hiss, my fear and anxiety giving out to a huge rush of nerves.