Deal Makers (Dealing with Love 3)

Brody takes her in. “I’ll give you this one, dude. But I’m with Rye, they aren’t the boobs I want to rest my head on every night.”

The woman’s hips sway as she heads toward the empty lounger right in front of us. Some douche-nozzle steps in front of her, so I try taking advantage of her distraction to subtly adjust my boner, but she shakes her head at whatever he’s saying, effectively dismissing him within seconds.

Down asshole, you can’t do anything about it right now, I scold my dick.

Screw you man, she’s fuckhot and naked and heading right toward us, he replies.

Just as she’s lifting her sunglasses, her body freezes, like she’s in shock or something.

What the hell?

The next chain of events happens in a matter of seconds but it’s a moment that will be forever burned into my brain.

“Oh shit, is that—?” Riley says.

“MY EYES!!!” Brody screams. “SOMEBODY GET THE EYE BLEACH RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!”

“What the fuck, dude?” I ask.

Brody is currently turned away, taking deep breaths like he’s pushing a baby out of his imaginary vagina. “First Munchkins, now this? WORST VEGAS TRIP EVER!!!”

Riley’s ripping off his t-shirt like it’s on fire and thrusting his arm out. I follow the motion and finally see what all the fuss is about.

Ho-ly fuck.

The gorgeous woman with the bangin’ body is none other than Charlotte Harris. I watch in slow motion as she grabs the shirt from Riley and pulls it over her body. I know it’s an asshole move but I can’t stop staring at her tits as she does it. When her arms lift, they have the slightest bounce to the

m, which holds my eyes hostage. I think my dick actually sobs when she’s fully covered.

Her cheeks are cherry red and I doubt it’s from the heat. “What the hell are you guys doing here? You’re supposed to be playing poker!”

“Is she fucking dressed?” Brody shouts.

“Dude, calm down,” Riley says. “You’re causing a scene.”

“Answer my question, Riley! Is she dressed?”

“Yes, I’m fucking dressed, you idiot!” Charlee shouts.

Brody turns around and glares at her. “What the fuck, Charlee?”

She puts her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, ‘what the fuck’?”

“What the hell possessed you to walk around in public with your tits out?” he asks.

“Because they’re my tits and I can do whatever I want with them!” she says. “And in case you haven’t noticed, tops are optional here!”

Riley tries being the voice of reason. “Okay, you guys. Seriously. You’re causing a big scene now. We’re going to get kicked out of here.”

“Good!” Brody scoffs. “These jerkoffs don’t need to see her walking around practically naked!”

“You’re such a hypocrite, Brody,” Charlee accuses. “You’re here too!”

Brody flings his arm out at me. “Because this asshole fucking begged me to come! He wanted to ogle tits, not me!”

At this point, I haven’t said a word. I don’t think I’ve even blinked. I know Charlee’s completely covered now, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen even wearing a baggy shirt that hangs down to her knees.

“Don’t act like I led you here by gunpoint, dick,” I say to Brody. “She’s right; they’re her tits, she can do whatever she wants with them.”