Page 23 of Broken Brothers

As she spoke, her hand rubbed over my hard dick. I felt a shiver of excitement go through my body. I was already feeling the initial pleasure and was so close to fucking her right there.

And then, she surprised me by going above and beyond even that.

She positioned herself in a way that it looked like just two couples cuddling in the back corner, but very carefully, she unzipped my pants. She reached her hand inside, gripping me with those soft, delicate fingers. And then she started jerking me.

“Oh, Chance,” I said.

I did my best not to show what was happening obvious, still technically being in a public space, but goddamn did it feel good. She kept moaning into my ear, her hot breath pushing me closer and closer. It was no secret that with the element of surprise, my attraction for her, and everything else associated with themoment, I would not last that long. What made it even sexier was the public nature of it all, the risk we had taken.

We had so much on the line, which made it so much hotter.

My dick started to harden in preparation for cumming, but it only made Layla’s hand go even harder and faster.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” she said. “Yeah, cum for me, Chance, cum for me.”

I had to bury my head and bite my suit sleeve to avoid making too much noise. I shot my load into her hand and into my boxers, in such writhing pleasure that I probably looked like I was having a seizure. I shuddered as the cum continued to unload, only gaining control of myself as she slowly stopped and removed her hand.

“Oh, Chance,” she said.

With that, she stood up, smirking as I lay there, half-knocked out from what had just happened.

“I’m going to go wash my hands,” she said. “You dirty little thing.”

I smirked and blew her a kiss. She just winked and headed around the corner for the bathroom.

I all but collapsed right there on the spot. I had done a lot of risque things in my life, but getting jerked off by the daughter of a CEO I was negotiating with in a private bar in my finest professional attire easily ranked near the top, if not at the very top. It was… words failed to describe it. I could only say that for how good I felt, I would have given up a lot to have it back.

“Oh, shit,” I said, laughing. “I’m gonna have to return the favor to her when she gets back.”

But…

She didn’t come back, not for how long it should have taken to wash her hands.

Curious, eventually, after wiping off what I could with a bar napkin, I stood up, thanking the dim lighting from making itobvious that I had just shot a load in my pants. I headed over to the bathrooms and prepared to knock.

But I stopped when I just saw one thing—a napkin with Layla’s lipstick on the bathroom door.

This girl, I swear…

She’s going to be the death of me, but damn if she doesn’t make it a little fun.

9

SIX YEARS AGO

Morgan and I sat in our bedroom, rubbing our eyes and nursing our wounds.

Each of us sported a black eye and other battle wounds from the vicious fight that we had just had. We cursed each other out, swearing that we’d kill the other. Our fists were bloodied, our bodies bruised, and our egos ravaged.

And seconds later, we were chuckling at what in the hell had happened.

Between us lay a piece of paper containing a phone number from a girl, Elizabeth. I recognized her phone number from the times that she had called me and told me all sorts of filthy things she was going to do when the house was empty. I fucking loved having Elizabeth around, as she was every teenager’s dream—willing and able to do anything without any consequence or feelings of attachment.

It seemed perfect. And it was… until Morgan saw the piece of paper and asked me what I was doing with Kate’s phone number.

I had no idea who the hell Kate was, but I sure as fuck knew that it wasn’t her phone number, it was Elizabeth’s. One thingled to another, we refused to give up the paper, and eventually, fists flew. Thank God Mr. And Mrs. Hunt weren’t around to witness our altercation, mostly because I didn’t need Morgan getting another leg up in the family and I didn’t need to get knocked another peg down.

“Did we seriously just fight over a piece of paper,” I said, shrugging in disbelief.