He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 179

Chapter 179 Her Letter

Dylan’s POV

“Dear Dylan,”

“By the time you’re reading this, I’m already gone.

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I can’t stand in the way of what you deserve. I love you–truly, I do. It feels strange that I fall this deeply for you so quickly. I always believe love takes months, maybe even years, to happen. But you really are that amazing. There’s something else I need you to know. I honestly, truly like your brothers too, and I can even picture myself falling for them as well.

But like we both understand, I’m not their type. I wish that weren’t the case. All of you are incredible, and whoever you choose to share your lives with will be a very lucky woman. Our last night together is phenomenal. It gives me a glimpse of what I could have had if I were the right woman for all three of you. And that’s exactly why I have to leave.

I need to let you go. I can’t be selfish and beg you to choose me, because that would mean you’d have to give up your dream of having one woman for the three of you. I’m hoping that “out of sight, out of mind” works for you. I already know it won’t work for me, because you’re all I can think about.

Now I wish I had listened to my mother about my weight. I think your brothers might have been attracted to me if I had. Not everyone wants a thick girl. They want that size two, not the size twelve to fourteen girl. I’m honestly surpris Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading! being honest, I often go for less

attractive men.

It’s shallow, because I know my face is pretty, and part of me thinks they should feel lucky that a pretty girl like me notices them. That’s a terrible thing to admit. But really, it’s the insecure fat girl in me. I feel lucky just to get their attention. My mother really messes me up, doesn’t she?

I always think I’m stronger than this, but being in this situation makes me see things clearly. I want you to be happy and to have everything you want. People say if you truly love someone, you should let them go so they can reach their happiness. I do truly love you, so I’m letting go. You don’t need someone as insecure as me anyway. I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted with your brothers.”

“Love you with all my heart,”

“Natalie”

I keep thinking about her letter as we drive toward Maine. I’m stretched out in the back seat now, trying to rest. None of us wants to stop for the night, so we rotate–one of us drives while the others sleep

and recover.

I still can’t wrap my head around the way she views herself. She honestly has no idea how fucking stunning she is. I despise her mother even though I’ve never even met her. Still, one thing is absolutely clear to me. Once Natalie realizes that the three of us want her–that we all want to adore her, worship. her, and build something real with her–I refuse to let her mother destroy it. I’ll make damn sure that woman stays far away from our lives.

My chest feels like it’s splitting open. There’s a real, physical ache sitting right over my heart. My girl is

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in pain, and it’s because of me. I should be better at communicating with her. I should explain that Clayton and Logan are moving slowly with her because they want to be certain she’s ready, and because they want her to be the one to reach for them first. I should tell her they’re the other two men who are with us at Club Lustland. But it’s always the same–could have, would have, should have–if my aunt had nuts, she’d be my uncle. It’s a ridiculous saying, but it’s the first thing that pops into my head every time I start spiraling about all the “should haves” in my life.

“I’m starving. We need to find a diner or something. I also need coffee,” Clayton says.

“Me too,” I reply.

Logan takes the next exit and pulls into a small mom–and–pop diner right beside a gas station. We step inside and glance around. The place feels like one of those old–school diners with plastic bench booths and linoleum floors. Every table is beige, slightly tacky to the touch. The colors are mostly red, cream, and beige. The fluorescent lights are harsh–too bright, almost blinding. A woman who looks somewhere between fifty and seventy asks what we want to drink, her voice raspy like she smokes two packs a day. All three of us order black coffee.

She returns carrying three cups and a coffee pot balanced on a round tray. She sets the cups down and pours for us. After that, she places the tray with the pot on a table behind her and asks if we’re ready to order.

“We didn’t get menus,” Logan says.

“Honey, the menu is up there,” she tells him, gesturing toward a glowing menu board on the wall.

“I’ll take the big man’s breakfast–eggs over easy, sausage links, bacon, and sourdough toast,” Logan

says.

Clayton and I tell her we want the exact same thing. I add an order of pancakes too, enough for all

three of us.

“How much farther?” I ask.

“We’ve still got about a hundred and thirty miles,” Clayton answers.

“Alright, I’ve gotta piss,” I say, pushing myself up.

I head into the bathroom and stop in front of the urinal, facing the wall. I’m so exhausted my brain feels like sludge. My eyes drift over the wall ahead of me. Names are scratched everywhere, and next to a lot of them are the words was here. Someone has scrawled song lyrics, and someone else has written a poem. It’s honestly not half bad. Then, to my left, something makes my eyes go wide.

If you love her, fuck her like you hate her, and tell her that this pussy belongs to you, and then bite her

where her neck and shoulder meet. Bitches melt for that shit

I snort while I finish reading. Jesus–some people–but honestly, maybe he’s not wrong. I wash my hands and step back out, and I see the food is already waiting on the table.

The meal is unexpectedly good, though maybe I’m just so hungry that anything tastes amazing. Feeling a sudden rush of energy, I tell my brothers I’ll take over driving while they rest.

But the sentence from the wall keeps replaying in my mind. ‘Fuck her like you hate her.‘ I’ve never

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heard that in my life. I try to picture what it even means. I can’t hate Natalie, and I’ve never fucked anyone I actually hated.

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Does he mean hard and rough? I could definitely be into that. I imagine pinning her down, my hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make sure she’s paying attention while I slam into her with everything I’ve got, my balls smacking against her ass, her tits bouncing everywhere.

My cock hardens instantly. Fuck–I could absolutely get down with that. And what would be even hotter is if my brothers hold her legs spread wide while her hands are tied above her head, and then each of us takes our turn tearing her apart.

The image of the three of us cumming inside her, watching it drip out of her stuffed cunt, plays through my head like a movie. I see myself scooping it up with my fingers and pushing every drop back inside her, pressing my hand there so none of it goes to waste. Then I picture her swollen and round, carrying one of our babies. I wouldn’t even care which of us ends up being the father.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“What’s wrong?” Clayton asks.

“Just visions, brother–the things I want to do to our girl are filthy as hell.”

He laughs under his breath. “I love those kinds of visions.”

So do I, brother. So fucking much.