ROMANCE: Party of Three: A Lustful Collection of Menage Romance (Menage Romance, Bisexual Romance, Stepbrother Romance)

ROMANCE: Party of Three: A Lustful Collection of Menage Romance (Menage Romance, Bisexual Romance, Stepbrother Romance) Read Online Free PDF

Book: ROMANCE: Party of Three: A Lustful Collection of Menage Romance (Menage Romance, Bisexual Romance, Stepbrother Romance) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Brittanee Farrow
Raking in cash and fucking chicks around the country, but I can’t do it anymore. Have you ever stopped to think about what you are doing to these girls?” David’s voice grew louder when Noah started laughing.
    “No, actually I haven’t. Have you?” Noah said accusingly.
    “I never used to. But the other day when I ran into her at the café I saw it. It was the same look my baby sister had before she ruined her life and eventually ended her life. Neela isn’t nearly as far gone as Claire was, but she is heading there and I would rather be there for her and help her through whatever it is that she is going through than to be the guy that causes her life to go to hell.” She heard the front door open and slam shut.
    It was quiet for a while and then she heard the door open and close a second time. They were both gone. Neela peeled herself out of bed and wrapped herself up in her blanket before going out to check and make sure they were gone. She looked on the counter at her phone and picked it up.
    She took it over to the couch and sat down. She stared at the black screen for what seemed like eternity and then she searched for David’s number in her phone. The manager had given her David and Noah’s number just in case she needed help with work. Noah had already given her his number and she didn’t think she would need David’s, but now she was glad she had it.
    She sent him a quick text saying thank you. He replied quickly:
    You’re welcome. Thank you for making me see what I was doing. I’m here if you ever need me.
    As she read his text the tears started to spill over. She typed back:
    How about brunch at the corner café?
    It took a little bit longer for his next text but she smile when she got it:
    It’s a date.
    She wiped the tears from her eyes and sent one more text before tossing her phone on the table beside her:
    It’s your chance.

Ravished at the Ranch
    A BBW Western Romance
     
    By Brittanee Farrow
     
     
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Forced Reflection
    The intercom crackles and a monotone voice announces it’s time to board. I’m still anxious about visiting the ranch for the first time in five years, but I don’t have a choice anymore.  Somehow I thought the last time I left would be my final goodbye, but life is rarely so simple.
                  When Chip called from my dad’s number I wasn’t expecting his voice and I choked on my iced latte.
    “Diana—are you there?” he asked, as I sputtered, trying to clear my throat. All I could think while I tried to catch my breath was that his voice was still as deep and husky as I remembered. It made my heart speed up and my cheeks flush, even after all this time.
    “Sorry—yes, I’m here. What’s going on?” I knew enough to recognize that a call from Chip after five years meant something was up.
    “It’s your dad. I hate to tell you over the phone, but he passed away this morning and we weren’t sure if…”
                  The rest of the words faded away as I succumbed to shock—Dad is dead. It wasn’t a surprise—my father could have been the original Marlboro man the way he smoked, but since I left Texas I had managed to forget that part of my life. Now it is front and center in my mind, especially as I stand in line to board my flight back to Dallas.
                  I’m only wearing capris and a thin camisole, but the heat on the plane is unbearable, and I begin to sweat even with the tiny overhead fan on full blast. I could blame it on the heat, but I’ve always been on the curvy side, and I have to loosen the seat belt to fit. Those little trays are always useless to me on flights, since they awkwardly hit my chest when I raise or lower them, and they rest on my stomach. Chip had offered to book me a flight in first class, but I had to keep the upper hand in some way, so I kept my exact
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