Free ROMANCE: Party of Three: A Lustful Collection of Menage Romance (Menage Romance, Bisexual Romance, Stepbrother Romance) by Brittanee Farrow Page B
Authors: Brittanee Farrow
guess.”
I didn’t know what else to say. That was my whole seduction plan in the bin. He probably thought I was some lazy moron or something.
“I’d like to see you again, Laura,” he continued on, and I felt my whole body perk up in interest, “but I can’t do it today. Gotta pick up that part from yesterday. But now that I have your number, things are easier. You go and get all the stuff you need, and I’ll call you tomorrow. How does that sound?”
I took a deep breath, still grinning. My vacation was looking better and better.
“That sounds perfect. I look forward to hearing from you.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Laura.”
I ended the call quite happily, and I’m woman enough to admit that I squealed just a little bit and did a happy dance. It had been a long time since I got laid, and my lady parts were all for climbing Sam like a tree for the rest of my three-week vacation. Imagine that: almost uninterrupted sex with a sexy cowboy for three weeks. It’d be like living my own personal porno for three weeks. My lady parts were very much on board with that particular train of thought.
But that was for tomorrow. Today I had to get some food in me before my stomach revolted and started eating me from the inside out.
The shower took about 5 minutes to heat up – for a second I thought ice was going to start raining down, it was so cold – and pressure was as dismal as you’d expect a cottage shower to be. But still, I didn’t smell like car and sweat anymore, and I looked fresh and ready for the day, even if it was 1 in the afternoon already.
Today was a day for summer dresses, so I changed into a simple red one with a white floral pattern, and flip-flops because vacation meant comfort. I got into the car, and reminded myself to be extra grateful next time I saw Sam for topping up my tank.
I was busy deciding what Sam might enjoy more as gratuity as I arrived at the town’s only supermarket. It was small and quaint and there was practically no one in it, which I found so calming. I wasn’t one for small talk usually. I just wanted to get in there, get my stuff and start vacationing properly.
In the store I went through every aisle, and ended up grabbing something from each of them. It was all fine until I decided I wanted ice cream and chocolate sauce on a whim because of course the last bottle of chocolate sauce that I wanted would be on the top shelf and of course I’d be too short to reach. Not that I was short . Well, not very short. Just slightly shorter than average. I was regretting not wearing my wedges now; I might have been able to reach it if I was wearing them.
My pathetic attempts at reaching the top shelf were rudely interrupted when a much larger and longer hand reached up and snatched the chocolate sauce away from me. I turned around, about to give the local – because no way a normal person could reach that shelf – when I stopped short as the man smirked down at me.
It was quite possible that this guy was taller than Sam. Not as muscular, though. He wore a faded grey Henley and tight black jeans that were held up by a belt with one of those obnoxious belt buckles and black biker boots. The black hair, the forest green eyes and the stubble and with what he was wearing and that damn smirk all added up to one thing: Trouble. He was a dead ringer for a young Chris Isaak. Oh, he was bad and he knew it too.
“That’s mine,” I said, scowling at him and holding out my hand. He only laughed.
“You were having getting at it, babe. I got it first, makes it mine,” his voice was smooth, probably as smooth is the chocolate sauce he held beyond my reach, and for a moment I forgot all about Sam. And as much as I kinda wanted to climb this guy like a tree, I wanted that chocolate sauce more. I had plans for the chocolate sauce.
“I’m only here for a vacation, you live here. You can come back and get more, I can’t. Hand it over, babe ,” I replied as icily as could my hand
I didn’t know what else to say. That was my whole seduction plan in the bin. He probably thought I was some lazy moron or something.
“I’d like to see you again, Laura,” he continued on, and I felt my whole body perk up in interest, “but I can’t do it today. Gotta pick up that part from yesterday. But now that I have your number, things are easier. You go and get all the stuff you need, and I’ll call you tomorrow. How does that sound?”
I took a deep breath, still grinning. My vacation was looking better and better.
“That sounds perfect. I look forward to hearing from you.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Laura.”
I ended the call quite happily, and I’m woman enough to admit that I squealed just a little bit and did a happy dance. It had been a long time since I got laid, and my lady parts were all for climbing Sam like a tree for the rest of my three-week vacation. Imagine that: almost uninterrupted sex with a sexy cowboy for three weeks. It’d be like living my own personal porno for three weeks. My lady parts were very much on board with that particular train of thought.
But that was for tomorrow. Today I had to get some food in me before my stomach revolted and started eating me from the inside out.
The shower took about 5 minutes to heat up – for a second I thought ice was going to start raining down, it was so cold – and pressure was as dismal as you’d expect a cottage shower to be. But still, I didn’t smell like car and sweat anymore, and I looked fresh and ready for the day, even if it was 1 in the afternoon already.
Today was a day for summer dresses, so I changed into a simple red one with a white floral pattern, and flip-flops because vacation meant comfort. I got into the car, and reminded myself to be extra grateful next time I saw Sam for topping up my tank.
I was busy deciding what Sam might enjoy more as gratuity as I arrived at the town’s only supermarket. It was small and quaint and there was practically no one in it, which I found so calming. I wasn’t one for small talk usually. I just wanted to get in there, get my stuff and start vacationing properly.
In the store I went through every aisle, and ended up grabbing something from each of them. It was all fine until I decided I wanted ice cream and chocolate sauce on a whim because of course the last bottle of chocolate sauce that I wanted would be on the top shelf and of course I’d be too short to reach. Not that I was short . Well, not very short. Just slightly shorter than average. I was regretting not wearing my wedges now; I might have been able to reach it if I was wearing them.
My pathetic attempts at reaching the top shelf were rudely interrupted when a much larger and longer hand reached up and snatched the chocolate sauce away from me. I turned around, about to give the local – because no way a normal person could reach that shelf – when I stopped short as the man smirked down at me.
It was quite possible that this guy was taller than Sam. Not as muscular, though. He wore a faded grey Henley and tight black jeans that were held up by a belt with one of those obnoxious belt buckles and black biker boots. The black hair, the forest green eyes and the stubble and with what he was wearing and that damn smirk all added up to one thing: Trouble. He was a dead ringer for a young Chris Isaak. Oh, he was bad and he knew it too.
“That’s mine,” I said, scowling at him and holding out my hand. He only laughed.
“You were having getting at it, babe. I got it first, makes it mine,” his voice was smooth, probably as smooth is the chocolate sauce he held beyond my reach, and for a moment I forgot all about Sam. And as much as I kinda wanted to climb this guy like a tree, I wanted that chocolate sauce more. I had plans for the chocolate sauce.
“I’m only here for a vacation, you live here. You can come back and get more, I can’t. Hand it over, babe ,” I replied as icily as could my hand
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