Bedding the Wrong Brother(18)

Now here he was, standing no more than five feet from the bed, his tall form as broad-shouldered and powerful as the one she'd conjured in her fantasy. And although she was a little nervous because she didn't know exactly what was going to happen, she wasn't freaking out. In fact, that slow, lazy glide of slick pleasure had started inside her again, weighing her down with a pleasant but confusing infusion of desire. Obviously, her eyes were seeing Max, but her body was ready to reach out and touch Rhys.

Even without her glasses, she could tell Max was feeling a little off-kilter, as well. Somehow, that gave her added courage.

Wow. She was about to get her game on with one of the Dalton twins, maybe not the right one, but at least the one who, unlike most men in her life, was here to give her what she needed and not the other way around.

Well, kinda.

She took a deep breath. It's showtime.

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she got to her feet, then immediately threw out a steadying hand when she swayed.

Whoa. Not wearing her glasses was not only putting a hazy edge to her vision, but throwing her equilibrium off balance, too. Shaking back her hair, her hand still gliding over the bedcovers for balance, she skirted around the mattress toward Max. Deliberately, she threw her shoulders back and kept her chin up.

She was tired of men who sucked in bed and blamed her for their suckiness. She'd take her fair share of responsibility, but not all of it. At least she was proactive. At least she was willing to learn. And who knew? She was a good student. If Max was a good enough teacher, maybe she could make her fantasy come true. Not with Rhys, of course, but maybe with Jamie. And if not with him, then maybe someone else.

Coming to an abrupt halt, she smiled. She was starting to think that her vow to give herself one last chance to find a man was silly. She'd never been a quitter, after all. Pleased with her realization, she raised her gaze to Max.

He hadn't moved. Just continued to stare at her as if her offer to please him had rendered him speechless or, at the very least, given him second thoughts.

They couldn't have that.

Raising her arms, she turned in a slow circle, ending the show with her hands resting on her hips. “Well? Is this sexy enough for you?”



* * *



Sexy enough?

Was she sexy enough for him?

Rhys licked his lips, but was careful not to make any sudden moves. If he was losing his marbles, he wasn't about to do anything to rattle his brain back to life. With her simple camisole and boy-short underwear, she was showing less skin than women often showed at the pool. Hell, the girls wore less material on stage.

But this was Melina, and he was seeing parts of her he'd never seen before. The surprisingly deep shadow of her cleavage that looked velvety smooth. Hard-tipped nipples poking against the double layer of her bra and thin camisole. And the buttery, smooth skin of her upper thighs that pressed together just underneath the vee of her *. Groaning, he couldn't decide which crevice he wanted to explore with his tongue first. The one between her breasts or the one that was trying to protect the vulnerable folds of her sex along with her simple yet feminine underwear.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze jumped to hers. A small furrow had formed between her brows. As he watched, her already pink cheeks flushed until they were cherry red. He saw the moment insecurity began to replace her bravado.

That jerked him out of his daze fast.

She was offering him what he'd craved for years. He wasn't about to embarrass her.

Moving the last few steps toward her, he raised his hand, stroked her hair from her face, then cupped the back of her neck. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up. “I'm good. Better than good. I just never thought you'd actually do it. Come to me, I mean.”

“Of course I would, silly. I have nothing to do all weekend but learn what pleases you. It's my birthday present to myself.”

Rhys's chest tightened. He was her birthday present? Since when? Was it because he hadn't called her? That he'd tried his best to drive her away? Had maintaining his distance finally made Melina realize how much she wanted him? If so, the agony had been worth it. “You've got it wrong, sweetheart. You're giving me the present, and it's not my birthday for another six months.”

But what about his reasons for staying away from her, his inner, and wholly annoying, voice interrupted. The picket fence? The two-point-two kids?

He slapped the voice away fast. He wasn't thinking about that. He couldn't. Not with Melina in front of him.