Side Swiped By My Step Brother Read Online Free Page B

formal introductions out of the way first so you don’t have to refer to me as SexyStranger all night.”
                  “Oh, but you are,” the sunglasses girl says. She takes a sip of wine and smiles appreciatively. “You’re even better looking that your picture.”
                  “Thanks,” I say. “Since I can’t actually tell what you look like under that getup, I’ll have to assume it’s to disguise either great beauty or severe disfigurement.”
                  “Are those my only two choices?”
                  “Afraid so.” I look at beautifuldreamer, who actually is something like a beautiful dream.
                  “I’m Emma,” she says.
                  She takes my hand and meets my eyes for a second before looking away, blushing a little. I’d been wondering she if she’d been having a go at me, claiming that she’d never done this online thing before, but it’s clear she was telling the truth, a fact that I now find rather charming.
                  “May I sit?”
                  Finally, she meets my gaze and holds it. She’s gorgeous. Big, bright blue eyes, full lips, that adorable handful of freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose. Love those freckles. Not a lot of makeup, so far as I can tell, and I give her a discreet once-over. Real. None of this plastic shit. Thank fuck.
                  “Yes,” she says. Then: “You’re . . . British. I . . . I wasn’t expecting that.”
                  “No, I suppose it’s a bit difficult to hear the accent through text messaging.”
                  “Ah, and he’s witty,” sunglasses girl says. She holds out her hand. “I’m Megan.”
                  “She’s the one who signed me up for the dating site,” Emma says.
                  “So I have you to thank then.” I shake her hand, and she then proceeds to take off the sunglasses, unwrap the headscarf. She’s hot, too, but in a different way. Part of what makes her hot is the fact that she knows it. Emma, I think, has no clue at all.
                  “This was a disguise,” Megan says. “We weren’t sure if you were going to be a psycho or not.”
                  “I assure you, I’m not. And, for future reference, I’d say the disguise isn’t really necessary—most men would be thrilled if two girls like you showed up, especially if they were only expecting one.”
                  They exchange glances, and I can see them both trying to decide if this was a humorous thing I’ve just said or a total arrogant asshole remark. A little of both, really, with a healthy dose of truth mixed in as well.
                  “Can I get you ladies another drink?” I say. “I’d like a drink myself.”
                  “Why sure,” Megan says. “I’ll have something a little harder this time. Make it a dirty martini, extra dry, extra dirty, please.” She picks up her wineglass and drains the rest of it.
                  Emma jumps up. “I’ll go with you,” she says. “I think I’ll get a martini, too.”
                  “I’d be happy to bring those over, if you want to wait,” I say. “Let me at least try to make a good first impression.”
                  “No, I’ll come, too.”
                  “I promise I’m not going to try to slip any roofies into your drink.”
                  Her cheeks are slightly flushed, and I wonder how many drinks she’s had so far. “That’s good. So far you’ve promised not to murder me and not give me any date rape drugs.”
                  “I’d say things are going smashingly, then.”
                  She giggles. “I like your accent.”
                  We go over to the bar and I order the