My Ex’s Little Sister (Alphalicious Billionaires 9)

So, I had sex with him to make him feel better? Was it a pity fuck?

No. She was damn sure it wasn’t. That hadn’t been her intent, at any rate, but she could kind of see how he’d think it. They were both just lonely. Hurting in their own ways. Out of place in their own world. And he’s panty-melting, spontaneous pregnancy inducing hot. That might have had a little to do with it.

Bella slowly shut off the shower. She ripped the curtain aside, grabbed for one of the too small, too rough terry cloth towels, and wrapped it around her oversensitive skin. When she stepped out of the tub to drip wet on the tiled floor, her pussy throbbed with the movement and damn her if that didn’t make her imagine all the things that she and Rhett could do together if she gave him a chance.

“Please, Bella, open the door.”

“No.”

“Come on. I want to tell you I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean any of that. I’m just in a shitty place.”

That makes two of us. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. She had to stay strong. She couldn’t open that door because if she did, she knew that she and Rhett were probably going to end back up in a twisted, sexy heap on the bed, and god… what they did was wrong. She should never have brought him back here. She should have dropped him at his house, his mom’s house, damn it, anywhere but at her hotel room with a bottle of whiskey and a queen-sized bed. Annnddd a queen-sized hole in her heart that threatened to swallow them both.

“Just go,” she said firmly. She closed her eyes, surprised when tears welled up. “I don’t need this. You don’t need this. Just go and we can pretend that this never happened.”

“But it did happen. I just- I’m okay with that. I’m not okay with being an asshole and making you lock yourself in the bathroom to cry.”

Her lips curled into a sarcastic smile. God. His words hit her right in the chest in that soft, sappy spot she didn’t even know she had. She was so stunned she couldn’t even think of a creative way to form the word fuck into a sentence and that never failed her. Ever. It was just such a satisfyingly transformative word. She’d never been at a loss before. He seriously needs to go.

“I- I wasn’t crying,” she said thickly. “But thanks. For the concern. You don’t have that kind of sway, I’m afraid.”

“Please, Bel, come out.”

She walked over to the door and set her hand on the handle. Her fingers trembled. “Don’t call me Bel.”

“I- I’m sorry. I- god. Just please come out. I need to look at you when I tell you that I’m sorry. For everything.”

I’m not. That was the problem. She’d just had the most amazing sex of her life and how the hell could she be sorry about that, even if it was with Sarah’s ex on his wedding day. Yeah… he should technically have been stealing a quickie from her sister at the moment. Like that would ever have happened. Sarah wouldn’t have wanted to mess up her hair and makeup. If it was her though… lord, she would have taken Rhett down to that church basement and found a dark corner just for the two of them. Or some kind of janitorial closet. If all else failed… the bathroom? The limo?

Stop. It’s not me. Rhett and I- we would never be a thing. He’s too nice. I would just ruin him.

“Bella?”

“I’m going back home tomorrow morning, Rhett. Can you please just get your clothes and go? I don’t need you to apologize. I know you’re sorry. It’s fine. I just don’t want to spend the rest of the evening locked in here and I’m not coming out. Please…” Was there ever a time she tacked that word on? No. It was seldom used in her vocabulary.

“Where’s home anyway?”

Bella squeezed her eyes shut again. She was not going there. “Detroit,” she breathed before she could stop herself. She hoped that Rhett hadn’t heard.

“Detroit?”

Damn it. “Yeah- uh- that’s where I live.”

“To prove you’re tough?”

“No. Because I went to school there. It was- uh- one of the only places I got accepted. I stayed because I had friends and knew people. I got a job. I didn’t see the point of leaving.” Why am I explaining this?

“Detroit.”

“Yeah. That’s right.” She leaned her head up against the door. When she imagined Rhett doing the same, their heat transferring from the door into each other, she ripped her face away.

Her body throbbed in all the wrong places. No, those were right, but it wasn’t right that they were aching for him. Were female blue balls a thing? If she had balls, they were definitely already blue. She wanted to throw open that door, launch herself at Rhett, and beg him to take her up against the wall. Then in the shower. Maybe on top that shitty little table they’d drank the whiskey on… the TV stand next if it would hold them, the floor after for good measure.