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BIG 3 – A Reverse Haren Stepbrother
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I didn’t know I had three ripped, gorgeous stepbrothers until I’d already crossed the mind-blowing line.
A sexy photoshoot is not supposed to end with the model showing me all of his best positions. Especially not so soon after my break up. After what my ex did, I’ve concluded that men aren’t worth my time or trust.
But when I wake, Mason is gone, and I’m feeling sore in more ways than one. I bury the ache in my heart and head to my mom’s beach house for brunch and to meet my stepbrothers for the first time.
It’s easy to think the worst of them, but Miller is as perceptive as he is gorgeous, and Max, with his tattoos and piercings, shows me just how protective a man can be.
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I’m not sure what is worse: finding out that Nate is a cheater or having to pack to leave him while he watches. There’s so much shame in discovering that the pathetic feelings I had were all just an illusion, and even more shame in realizing that the man I thought I loved is an asshole.
“Why are you so dramatic about this? Did you seriously think that we were exclusive?” Nate’s face curves into a sly smile that sets the hairs on my arms raising. Oh God. Why didn’t I see this side of him before my heart got involved? Why didn’t I realize that he was deceitful and cruel? He charmed and flattered me into this relationship for what? So he could stick his dick into anything that moved while pretending to be the perfect boyfriend. I don’t even know what else to say.
“You called me your girlfriend.” My voice is high pitched and raised, which only makes him smile more.
“Well, you are, Natalie,” Nate says slowly as though he thinks I’m too stupid to grasp words spoken at a normal rate. “The other girls…well, they’re just there for the physical side. To do the things you won’t do.”
I grit my teeth as I toss the last of my clothes into the suitcase. Nate’s eyes follow me from where he’s lounging against the doorjamb. Of course, this is all my fault. Just because I wouldn’t let him stick his dick in my ass, is that seriously how he’s going to justify his constant infidelity? I’ve given this man a year of my life. My photographs have turned his travel blog from third-rate to go-to. I’m what’s catapulted his income from subsistence hostel level to five-star. And this is what I get for my efforts? He hasn’t paid me for any of it.
I guess he’d say that I’ve had the experience of a lifetime. He’s supported all my living expenses for the entire time we’ve been traveling, but now I’ve seen what a lowlife he is, I’m walking away with nothing. Worse than that, I’ve had to call Mom to book me a flight home.
There are a million things that I could tell him right now, but I don’t have it in me to try and argue with a man who will never accept he’s in the wrong.
“You can’t expect me to be satisfied with just this.” He waves his hand across the room, as though our life together has been so boring to him. “We’re not married. This is the time for us to experience everything we can before we settle down together.”
“Settle down. You seriously think that I’d want to settle down with you, knowing what you’ve done.” Of course, Nate didn’t share our open-relationship status with me. I had to find it out from a well-meaning waitress who’d seen Nate with three women in the past week. I’d been telling her all about what an amazing boyfriend he was for buying me a silly necklace, and she took pity on me. She’d gone through something similar herself and couldn’t stand to see another rat-bastard (her words) get away with it. Thank goodness. This charade could have gone on and on. Would he ever have been honest?
No. I know that for sure.
His lies gave him something to hold over me. I was loyal to him, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. As if he would have accepted me fucking other men. I think about the men I’ve met on our travels, back to Marley and his smooth brown skin and amazing physique. He’d liked me. I’m pretty certain of that. We could have had amazing sex. He had hands big enough to crush Nate’s stupid head like a nut. Hands big enough to hold me while he fucked me against one of the palm trees on the beach in Jamaica. Or Marco. That man had liquid chocolate eyes and a smooth Italian accent that could slide the panties from even the most uptight of women. He was a charmer for sure, but I bet he would have been passionate between the sheets.
So many men. So many missed opportunities.
And how would Nate have compared? There’s no way he would ever have accepted me discovering that his dick was smaller or his body less toned. Orgasms have been few and far between recently, as though he’s given up caring about my pleasure. He’s become lazy as his cheating has increased.
Well, fuck him. Fuck all men who think they can have their cake and eat it too.
“I have the ring,” he says. “It’s in the nightstand. Take a look.”
“The ring,” he says again slowly, and I want to punch him in the face. I’m not looking anywhere except in the bathroom for my make-up bag. I’m out of here. He can give his lying, cheating ring to one of his other women – the one who took it up the ass like the trooper that I’m definitely not.