Page 58 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers
For the last year, I watched Brett and Nora, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She was always so vibrant and warm, and everyone loved her. And even when she was with Brett, they lookedhappy.I know now that not everything is always as it seems, but nevertheless, I thought they were happy and it used to piss me off.
Because from the moment I met Nora, I knew she was perfect, and everything I’ve always dreamed of. She’s smart, funny, gorgeous, warm—and she washis.
Yeah, complications, my ass. I’d rather have complications than be alone.
And I’ve never felt more alone than when I wake up in the morning and have to leave the bed of some woman I know I’m never going to see again.
I’ve never felt more alone than when I’m standing in the presence of the woman I’ve been dreaming about and harboring feelings for, knowing I can’t say shit, because it’ll cause a problem.
But that problem is gone now.
Brett isn’t a problem anymore.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the weird melancholy vibes pervading me right now. I get up, draining my drink. Maybe I should just call Freddie and see how he’s doing. If he’s still running laps around the rink or if he’s cooled off by now. Maybe I could even ask him to give me a ride home, since I carpooled with Chris.
That would probably be the smart thing to do.
“I’m going to take a piss,” I announce, and Chris nods as I head for the men’s room. My phone buzzes in my pocket as I open the door to the bathroom. Surprisingly, the place is empty. I make my way to the stall so I can have some privacy while I scroll on my phone.
I unzip my pants and get my dick out, while using my free hand to grab my phone as I attempt to multitask and check my damn messages while I piss. When I see the notification isnotfrom Freddie, I do a double take.
Because it says it’s fromNora.
Maybe she wants to talk about what happened. That has to be it, right?
Except when I open the text thread, I nearly fall over, because holy fuck. I blink, convinced I’m hallucinating because there isno waythis was meant for me.
Right?
But what if it was?
My gaze settles on a photo of Nora—in the prettiest pale blue lingerie I’ve ever seen. Her pale, thick thighs stand out against the shade, and I can seeeverything.Every sinfully delicious curve of her perfect body, from her hips to her tits.
And her tits lookamazingin that bra.
Her ass looks amazing too, and my cock hardens in my hand.
I realize I still haven’t put my cock away, but now I’m hard and alone in this stall with….this.
I should delete it, right?
Except my stupid brain isn’t firing on all cylinders, and I still feel all messed up about what’s going on here. Between us. Not that there is anus, but…
She kissed me back, and now she’s sending me a sexy selfie? That can’t be a coincidence, right?
My conscience tells me that it’s a mistake. A wrong-number text.
But even so, there’s no text attached to this. It’s just an image. Surely she wouldn’t be sending a photo like this to Brett, would she?
I mean, after what he did, the last thing he deserves is a sexy picture of the most perfect woman on the planet, who he let go because he’s a damn idiot. The thought of my brother getting this image, maybe even sending her one back, pisses me off.
And because I’m pissed off, and because I’ve been drinking and my damn head is a mess, I do what I absolutelyshould notdo.
I hold my heavy cock in my hand, and I snap a photo and send it back.
If she texts me back and freaks out, I’ll know it wasn’t meant for me.
But if she texts me back anddoesn’tfreak out…
