Page 40 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers
And I wasfinewith that. I was fine working through my trauma on my own with my sex toys and porn and the occasional visit to the sex club. I was fine with taking out my aggression on the ice or on scrubbing my kitchen counter. I was fine taking care of Tommy and Russ. They became my priority.
They aren’t women, obviously, but I still get to scratch thatprovideritch once in a while because I do take care of them. Make sure they have everything they need. Make sure they stay hydrated, well-fed, and of course if they have a problem with anything, they know they can come to me. No matter what.
It’s not the same as taking care of a woman. A partner.
Or a baby.
I try to shove the thought away, because I feel like an asshole when I think about Vicki and the baby we could’ve had. Despite what happened between us, I know deep down beneath my trauma and kinks…
Idowant a baby. I’ve always wanted to have kids and a family of my own, and I still want those things. I just…didn’t want themthen.
Now I’m older, and I think about it a lot. But I’m also aware enough to know that I’m too fucked up for that to happen. No woman in their right mind would want to deal with my trauma, my kinks, and my trust issues.
And I wasfine with that.
Until Nora showed up last night and scratched thatprovideritch.
I can’t even say it was because of the alcohol, because I had one drink last night. Russ likes to party, so usually when we go out, I have to play DD. Which is fine, because I know it’s how he lets off steam.
But seeingNorain that tight little dress…fuck if it didn’t make my damn dick hard because all I could think about was grabbing her damn hips and filling her up.
Which isnotwhat I should be thinking about my brother’s girlfriend…or ex-girlfriend, technically.
But I’d be lying if I said it was the first time I thought those things. In truth, it’s one of my go-to fantasies. I know it’s wrong, but I also know I’m fucked up, so…wrong is kind of my default.
But I also know my boundaries. I know how to keep myself in check, unlike some people in this family.
Like Russ, whose attraction is quite obvious to me, even if it’s not obvious to others.
Still, I can’t shake how seeing her big blue eyes and parted lips, seeing herin needof help, unearthed those long-buried desires within me. Like a switch was flipped, I walked into that abandoned role of Daddy too easily.
She doesn’t know that I was doing anything beyond being hospitable. Friendly.
I’m sure she just thought I was being a stand-up brother—whether she and Brett were together or not. I was just being agood guy.
But for me…it wasn’t just about being a good guy, helping someone in need.
It was so much more than that.
I sigh, trying to push aside the way the thoughts, the memories of last night. Of this morning, when I fought the desire to command her to sit her perfect, round ass down and eat.
To be agood girl.
Good girls get rewards.
I know it’s a dangerous route to go down for sure.
I slipped last night and let it out, and I know she heard me. Those pink cheeks and that subtle gasp told me she definitely heard me and maybe evenlikedwhat she heard, which in itself is dangerous.
But she likely doesn’t remember it now. And I need to forget about it.
Except, Ican’t.I can’t forget about her bitterness when she said Brett had cheated on her. I can’t forget about Russ’s hands on her wide, perfect hips. I can’t forget about how she parted those plump lips and gasped.
Nor can I forget about hearing hermoanthrough the wall when she was showering.
My cock jumps at the memory as guilt pushes forth.
I was already too worked up from our night—from all the unearthed feelings and trauma dancing in my brain and the fact that I was hard as fuck because she looked like sin itself with those perfect hips and those round, heavy breasts of hers. I canonly imagine with their size, how full and big they would be if she was pregnant.
