Ex Games Stella Rhys Read Online Free

  EX GAMES

by

Stella Rhys

EX GAMES

Copyright © 2016 by Stella Rhys

All Rights Reserved

Embrace Design By Vivian Monir Design

This book is a piece of work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the writer'due south imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Table Of Contents

Copyright

Affiliate One

Affiliate Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Affiliate 5

Chapter Six

Affiliate Seven

Chapter 8

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter 11

Affiliate Twelve

Affiliate 13

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Affiliate Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty-Ane

Chapter Twenty-Ii

Chapter Xx-3

Chapter Twenty-4

Epilogue

From The Author

Bonus Material: IN Likewise DEEP by Stella Rhys

What's ice-cold merely hotter than hell? Rebounding with your ex's brother, of class.

A perfect tempest led me to this identify. Ghosted past my fiancé, I was suddenly broke, heartbroken and facing eviction. Enter Bricklayer Leo, the six feet and 2 inches of pure muscle and arrogance I've hated with a passion since the twenty-four hours we met. The man is cocky, womanizing and ruinously gorgeous.

Worse than that, he'south my ex's brother. And for the next 2 weeks, he gets to do with me as he pleases.

I'll explain.

With both our exes – wait for information technology – gear up to marry each other in St. Lucia, I've agreed to let Bricklayer pay my debts so long equally I play his date. My only task is to continue my dress on while I get my closure. Because equally much every bit I hate Mason Leo, the man is a walking sex god. And in the proper noun of revenge, he gets to take me out, show me off – dress, impact and kiss me with those wicked lips. Information technology's all for testify, simply every night with him brings more drinks, more than drama and another temptation, so no matter what I do, I can't stop reminding myself this:

At that place's admittedly no adept to come from f*cking my ex's brother.

No matter how good it'll feel.

Chapter One

Mondays had a bad rap but since the breakdown, Wednesdays had become my mortal enemy.

I'd gone through nine of them since the one on which Aaron packed his numberless overnight and left me with just a annotation on the kitchen tabular array. Which was almost humorous, really, considering for the last yr of our three-twelvemonth relationship, we had only 2 struggles: his inability to clean up after himself, and his refusal to write a card instead of agonize over gifts. Lucky for us, he finally got past both those struggles in ane shot. Non and so lucky for united states of america, the accomplishment came in conjunction with him dumping me out of the blue, without then much as a word of explanation. Were it not for the bye he scribbled on the back of a Duane Reade receipt, I'd have alerted the press and filed a missing persons report.

Not that I didn't cease upwards doing other dramatic things. Though to be fair, they sounded more than dramatic than they were. On newspaper, calling Aaron's friends, colleagues, boss and a couple gym buddies might sound deadline-to-fully batshit insane, but in my own defence, I thought he had either lost his listen or been kidnapped by the Sicilian mafia.

Because nil had led up to him leaving me.

Nothing. In fact, nosotros'd had that steamy, breathy, fingers-tangled-in-his-hair kind of sex activity the nighttime earlier. The last fight we'd gotten into was a fiddling one about the sheer amount of butt shots he liked on Instagram, and we settled that one fast with a new rule: No more double-tapping booties for Aaron as long equally Taylor agreed to cease moaning every time she saw a moving picture of Charlie Hunnam. It was easy. We'd become so practiced at settling our empty-headed stuff, and as far as I knew, silly stuff was all we had.

Only then he left me. And all he gave me was that shitty note.

Tay. I hope yous'll forgive me but I had to get. Please proceed the ring because you lot accept been zip but amazing to me, and you don't deserve this at all. I don't have a choice, only I promise I love you lot. And I promise y'all'll move on. – A

I stood in the middle of the kitchen for a solid five minutes as the room spun effectually me. And so I snapped out of my daze and called him, all the while vehement through our Columbus Circumvolve apartment for any clues that this was just a big, roughshod joke.

He didn't pick upwards, merely it took two Wednesdays for me consider I might actually exist single.

It took another till I realized I was.

Several more passed before I truly accustomed that this was information technology. Aaron and I were over. Washed.

The man who had seen me through my absolute worst trials and tribulations – the man I had spent the by six months planning a wedding with was gone. And not only that, he wanted to exist. As information technology turned out, he had premeditated leaving me for at least a month because he'd put in two weeks at his job, had a fucking goodbye party with his colleagues and even finagled his mode off our charter, leaving me to pay solo for the four-grand-a-calendar month studio he claimed we "needed" for its prestigious address.

That ane left me dumbfounded all over once more.

Because it was one affair to carelessness me, merely it really took some nerve to also leave me with the bills he knew I couldn't afford alone. After all, he was the one who needed to print his rich friends. He was the one who decided that nosotros couldn't reside anywhere just the thirtieth flooring of a high ascension, with a weekly maid service and the virtually absurdly expensive gym membership known to homo. Since the rent came out of Aaron's checking, I footed our other expenses and paid the deviation owed every month.

It worked fine for three years.

But now, every last dollar sign was mine to tackle, including that of the cancellation fees from every vendor and venue we booked for the big fat wedding that wasn't going to happen. It was like rubbing fiscal salt into the wounds of my life turned upside downwards.

Iv Wednesdays ago, I picked up a night task as a waitress.

Two Wednesdays ago, I maxed out my second credit carte du jour.

Final Wednesday, I got a belatedly find on my hire, and I was sure it couldn't possibly go shittier than that. But today, I woke up to something a solid thousand times worse than the last iii combined because this Wednesday, the bad news was waiting impatiently outside my apartment and rapping nonstop on the door despite the fact that it was 7:15AM, and fifty-fifty if information technology weren't, he had to know I'd desire zero to do with him. I by and large preferred a adept 50 streets separating me and the man whose guts I'd spent the by three years hating with every last fiber of my existence.

"Taylor, come up the fuck on. Open up the goddamned door."

Always the charmer, that one.

Today, I got Aaron'southward brother, Mason.

Affiliate 2

"Taylor, I know you're in there. I tin can hear the Telly."

Panicked, I popped up on the burrow that had been my bed since the breakup. Throwing the sheets off my body, I shoved my hands between the pillows, my foggy morning time brain convinced that Mason would go away if I just turned off the book.

"Don't bother looking for the remote. I can clearly hear you watching The Real Housewives of Your Shitty Taste in Tv set."

Continuing now, I cut my optics to the door, trying to decide if I wanted to blow my embrace with a antiphon.

"Trust me, I'd have no involvement in beingness hither if it weren't an emergency. And I'm trying to give you the chance to do this on your ain terms. Either open the door or I will, and earlier yo

u say I don't have a primal, I practise." He paused. "And so for both our sakes, put on some pants."

Asshole. I tried to tell myself he was bluffing merely my lips betrayed me. "Mason, don't you dare come in."

"In that location she is," his smug vocalisation came back straightaway. "Morning, sunshine. Hope yous slept well. At present open the door."

"I don't want to or take to. Whether I like information technology or not, this is my flat now and mine alone."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it'due south non your apartment. You lot don't own this building, information technology'due south simply a rental that you haven't paid for in a calendar month, co-ordinate to this gorgeous pinkish annotation I'grand staring at."

Shit. My cheeks went aflame as I realized my landlord had left some other observe. I tried to think of a response, but suddenly, I was frozen at the sound of metal jimmying in the lock of my door. No manner. In my listen, I ran to grab the blanket on the couch and encompass myself up. In reality, I stood there, useless and unmoving because despite knowing Stonemason Leo for three whole years, I was still shocked that he was in fact shitty enough to barge into my home without asking.

"Mase…" I watched the doorknob plough. "Wait – "

"Incoming."

With that casual announcement, the door swung open and my jaw hit the floor equally Mason Leo strolled right into my abode, wearing a damp white T-shirt and dark gray sweats. Holy shit. I froze, a knot jumping into my throat because one, I'd never seen Mason in anything only an expensive suit and 2, I'd never seen this much of him before. The cotton of his shirt was saturated in sweat and it clung to his every musculus. He'd been on a morn run and I could very much see that – likewise as some rather clear outlines of 6-pack.

And erect.

Wow.

Just like that, I forgot my instinct to cover myself up and suddenly, in a run across-through shirt and ugly panties gifted by Sofia equally a joke, I was standing earlier Mason Leo'due south famously lusted-for body, watching his blue optics movement leisurely up my bare legs and over every inch of my mortification. Silence stretched betwixt usa till finally, he raised his eyebrows and gave a low laugh.

"Well. The top one-half about makes up for the bottom."

I blushed something furious, clasping my hands over my breasts earlier acknowledging the panties. "They were a gag gift."

"Gag or not, today's Wed." He squinted at the pink cursive on my crotch that read 'Lord's day.' I snapped my fingers in front of my eyes.

"Up here. And I don't actually wear these according to the day," I sniped every bit he ignored me to amble into my kitchen and grab a mug out of the cupboard. "Please don't make yourself at domicile."

"I could never feel at habitation in a v hundred square pes studio."

Five-fifty, I thought bitterly equally I tore my gaze off Mason's Superman shoulders stretching the life out of his shirt. Crossing my artillery, I forced my stare elsewhere, instead watching his long fingers work the buttons on the espresso auto I never knew how to apply. "Stonemason."

"God, I love how much irritation y'all fit into just the syllables of my name."

"Can you not deed like you didn't but flit into my apartment without asking?"

"How should I deed then? Like I spent the night?" He turned around, his blue eyes glinting behind the fresh coffee he brought to his lips. "You'd need more than of a glow to make that look convincing. Simply the pilus's messy enough."

"Yeah, let's too not talk about made-upwards scenarios in which you and I have made whatsoever sort of physical contact," I said, heading for my dresser.

"Sorry. I must have misread the manner you stared at my dick earlier."

"Information technology was kind of only there, and then don't flatter yourself," I retorted, blasphemous my bedroom-less apartment for the millionth fourth dimension as I rifled through my drawer in clear view of Stonemason. "So, are you planning to tell me at all why you're here? The only reason I haven't chosen the cops is because I have a feeling that whatsoever you lot accept to say has to practise with your brother."

"Don't pivot his existence all on me. He'southward your ex, too."

"I'm enlightened," I scowled, yanking on a pair of yoga pants and crossing my arms over my chest. Standing beyond the studio from Stonemason, I cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. "So, what is it? Did you finally track him downward?"

"Something like that. I didn't get in directly contact with him yet, but I received something in the mail that pointed me in his direction."

"What does that mean?"

From his back pocket, Mason took out a folded carte du jour. He held it out and when it was clear that he wouldn't be walking information technology to me, I sighed and dragged my feet over to him. I didn't want it to evidence simply I was deathly curious about whatsoever the hell information technology was he had in his paw. But the second I got close enough to touch what he was holding, my heart trounce out of my breast.

"What is this?" I whispered despite having a hunch in one case I plucked the bill of fare into my own fingers and felt its weight in my paw. It tin't be. It was a six by eight-inch rectangle and not only whatsoever kind, but one I knew well having looked recently through a million samples from a dozen different calligraphers. But I told myself it couldn't exist, and I tried to ignore the heat of Mason's stare as I turned the embossed vellum around, letting my horror and confusion settle on the sweeping cursive printing three names I knew well.

~

Mr. and Mrs. Glenn Tully

Asking the Honor of Your Presence

At the Marriage Of Their Daughter

Eva Cecilia Tully

To

Aaron Easton Leo

Sabbatum, the Seventeenth of December

At The Sundara Resort in St. Lucia

~

My stomach turned.

No.

No, no.

It was a misprint. It had to be. Eva Tully was the daughter of tech mogul Glenn Tully and his third married woman, Ana Livia. She was also the swimsuit model who'd barked at me for spilling Cristal on her Manolos at her twenty-sixth altogether last yr. Though I hadn't. She had. She was simply too drunk to realize and Aaron urged to me take the blame, hissing, "Christ, Taylor, it's her birthday," though he might also have said, "Don't fight her, she'due south hot."

And she was. Eva was as well dating Mason at the time. In fact, they were running on a nearly vi-calendar month relationship at that point, which was apparently his longest since junior high. I knew that because Aaron tracked Mason's every move similar some kind of secret paparazzo, and he anticipated Mason's potential nuptials in the about oddly obsessive manner. "I'll fucking kill myself if those two always get married," he always used to complain. Whenever I asked why, he'd say, "I'll never crush him." It was vague, but clear plenty to brand me feel similar crap.

Of form, it made me feel fifty-fifty worse at present that I was holding the invitation to their fucking wedding.

This isn't real. This isn't happening. Nauseous, I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to either process the information or wake upwardly from the dream. Aaron and Eva. Eva and Aaron. I repeated their names over and over, and while information technology didn't make them feel whatsoever more real, tears started called-for in my eyes. Aught was sinking in and worse than that, Stonemason Leo was the only person I had to talk to. "I don't empathise. What is this?"

"It'southward a fucking golf game catalogue. What does it expect like?"

"For God'southward sake, just tell me in words, Mason. I'm sure you can estimate that my heed tin't exactly wrap around this concept right now!"

"I can talk to you when you cease crying."

"Don't. Don't act like I'one thousand beingness crazy or likewise emotional when you simply handed me an invitation to a wedding between my fiancé and a adult female who is not me," I seethed, turning abroad from him as the tears finally spilled. I trapped my sobs in my throat, refusing to allow them out considering I knew Mason would yell at me. Merely when a tiny one escaped, I heard more of a sigh.

"Taylor, I know this is a mindfuck. If information technology's any alleviation, it was probably Eva's idea."

"Why would she be with Aaron subsequently beingness with you?" I demanded, blushing the s

econd the question left my lips. Just I couldn't pinpoint why – at least not till I realized I was asking how a girl would settle for Aaron later having had Mason. Jesus, what kind of question was that, Taylor? I'd never entertained that way of thinking earlier. Ever. I had e'er loved having Aaron over Stonemason, no matter how hard my friends lusted over Mase and pressed me to confess that I fantasized about him. I didn't. Non consciously, at least. Aaron was my choice Leo brother because he was handsome and smart and he made me feel safe because he wasn't a heartless playboy.

He was loyal.

At to the lowest degree I thought he was.

Cheeks burning, I slowly returned wet optics to Bricklayer, waiting for him to pounce on my sideslip of tongue and signal out that I'd given him a hugely inadvertent compliment. There was a glint of amusement in his center that I wanted to strangle him for just to my surprise, he took mercy and gave me answers instead of grief.

"From what I heard, Eva thought she'd be the one to get me to propose. Her friend told me she already started picking out bridesmaids dresses, and so yeah. She took it difficult when I ended things." He tilted his caput. "You might've heard."

"Yeah," I said flatly. I didn't read the tabloids that covered Bricklayer's sexcapades – mostly considering I didn't want to encourage Aaron's bad habit of devouring them – but the news about Eva and Mason's breakup had been absolutely everywhere. "TECH PRINCESS VANDALIZES LEO Group OFFICE!" The headline was emblazoned across every blog, paper and magazine, and Aaron and I had literally made a bag of popcorn to spotter the viral footage when it came out. It was admittedly hilarious. The surveillance cameras at Bricklayer's Park Avenue office shot practically in Hard disk drive, and they caught Eva with four friends breaking in just by 4AM. They all looked gorgeous in their mini skirts and stilettos as they trashed the entire floor, drawing dicks on the walls with lipstick and taking breaks only to wink up at the camera.

magareyheres1971.blogspot.com

Source: https://readfrom.net/stella-rhys/348087-ex_games.html

Share this post