Miss March: Curvy Girl Romance (Curvy Girl Of The Month Club Book 3) by Kelsie Calloway

Author:Kelsie Calloway [Calloway, Kelsie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

DEAN

I never want to get up. It’s dusty and dirty out here in the abandoned shed of the Whitley family memories, but if I close my eyes, I can forget about all that. The only thing that matters is my arms around Corinne.

Unfortunately, the music from the barn stops. We couldn’t hear it during our lovemaking, but while we lie in silence, we can make out every note. When it stops, we know that our time together is fleeting.

The three of us are forced to get up and put our clothes back on. Without saying a word, we know that our birthday rendezvous is over and we have to get back before anyone notices our absence. In a strange quietness, we finish getting dressed.

When I chance a glance in Corinne’s direction, I see Buck smoothing out her hair. For one jealous moment, I wish that were me. He is gentle with her in a way that I’m not. My heart rages in my chest in questioning realization that she might like him more than she likes me.

“I’ll, uh, go ahead of you guys,” Corinne whispers as she walks toward the door. She stops with her hand on the knob and shoots a look back at us. “I hope we can do this again soon.” Her eyes dilate with desire and I feel my jeans tighten as I grow harder. Before I can walk over and press my lips to hers, she’s gone. Her dress swishes as she exits and the door closes behind her.

Buck and I stand in the moonlit room in awkward silence. When we talked about having her together, we didn’t talk about what would happen afterward. I think in a way, neither of us believed we would get to this point.

If there’s a good solution, I don’t know what it is. Corinne said she hoped that we could do this again soon. But did she mean with Buck or with me? Or did she want to have us both again? If we’d have had time to talk, maybe we could have worked through all these questions the two of us have.

“I love her, you know,” Buck says after a few moments. “I have loved her since I was seven. Our parents made us sit together at the kids’ table for Thanksgiving and we would start food fights. I have loved her practically my whole life.” The sound of hope in his tone is almost too much for me.

I wish there was a way for me to fix this, to make it easier for us both, but the truth is I can’t. “Buck, I hate to say this, but I love her, too. I only met her this last year, but she has been kind to me in a way that no one else ever has been.” I can’t explain the way she’s taken me in and called me hers. It might not have been years of mischief at family holidays, but it was what I needed.

I’ve gone home with dozens of stories about our time together.

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