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“I have to go back to college in a few weeks.”
She nods. “I know. But I’ll still be waiting here for you next summer. And I get that you’re worried about Vance, but—”
“He’s my best friend. He’d kill me for touching you.”
She presses a finger over my lips. “It will be our secret.”
There’s a no perched on the tip of my tongue, but she muzzles it by lifting her hips to me and closing her eyes with a moan.
Shit. I’ve got to stop this.
Soon.
Just one more minute…
Then I lose myself in her kiss again, in the feel of her slender body undulating beneath me, in the way her gaze clings to me with love when I take her nipple in my mouth. She’s all cotton-candy sweetness and sweet-sixteen perfection. I want her so badly, every fucking part of my body hurts.
Is going behind everyone’s backs and rushing into this good for her?
No. I’ve got to stop this now.
I sigh. “Whitney—”
Behind me, the door to her bedroom slams open. “You son of a bitch. Get the fuck off my sister!”
Vance.
I jump to my feet and block his view of Whitney with my body. “It’s—”
“Not what I think?” he sneers.
No, it’s exactly what he thinks.
“Get out!” Whitney screams at her brother.
Neither of us budges. I won’t leave her alone to endure her brother’s wrath, and he won’t leave me alone with temptation.
“I would never hurt her,” I promise.
He snorts, silently admonishing me that it’s too late. “When did you start fucking her?”
I hold up both hands. “Dude, I didn’t—”
Vance silences me with a cross to the jaw.
“What are you doing?” Whitney screeches. “Stop!”
“Don’t touch my sister again.” He points a finger in my face. “Ever. I fucking trusted you…”
He did. He invited me into his house and let me stay with him so I would have all summer to write code instead of heading back to my hometown in Nowhere, Colorado, to make minimum wage shoveling horse shit or whatever my dad says “builds character.” Don’t get me wrong; I need the money. But if this app takes off like I think it will, money won’t be a problem anymore.
“I can’t believe this is how you repay me!” Vance gestures to Whitney, who’s got her arms crossed over her bare breasts.
“I’m sorry.”
Vance grunts. “You will be, asshole, once I take it out of your hide.”
At the time, I thought he was just lashing out. I thought he’d get over his anger and we’d go back to normal. I thought Whitney would believe me when I told her at the end of the summer that none of my feelings for her had changed, to give her brother time, and we’d work things out between the two of us somehow. I believed her when she kissed me one last time and said she’d be waiting.
But I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I learned that weeks later when Vance, with an LLC he created alone, launched our app without me. My idea, everything I’d spent months innovating and coding, my one chance at being someone and crawling out of the blue-collar middle class I’ve always despised—all stolen from me. My best friend left me with nothing.
And when push came to shove, Whitney backed him up by taking his side in my lawsuit.
She ripped out my heart, too. I’ve never been the same.
After that humiliation, I launched my own creation the following spring. Over the next half a decade, I amassed a tech empire that far surpasses anything Vance has accomplished. But I’ve spent eight long, terrible years waiting for the day I could finally have my revenge. I waited for this day.
I smile coldly. Now, it’s here.
And this time, when she’s broken, when I’ve fucked her out of my system, it will end on my terms.
CHAPTER TWO
Present day
Whitney
As I watch the hands of the clock tick away the last of my freedom, I wonder if I’ve gone insane. That’s the only answer that makes sense.
I should have refused Jett’s insulting proposition. I should have spit in his face.
I don’t have that luxury. While I can criticize my brother for this financial mess, I was away at school when he needed me. Some of the blame rests on my shoulders.
For the next seven days, I have to let Jett Dean use me in whatever way he wants and hope he doesn’t destroy me.
Bitterly, I laugh. Every time he touches my life, it explodes into a fiery, horrific inferno, then leaves me standing in a heap of ash.
It took me years to pick myself up after he left the first time. How much harder will it be this time after I share his bed? After I take him into my body?
And what about the secret I’m keeping from him?
A glance at the clock on my mantel tells me it’s eight fifty-eight. A pair of headlights slow, turn into my driveway, and stop. The driver doesn’t honk. I don’t walk out right away. I have two minutes to decide what to do. On the table in front of me is my phone. Beside it sits the burner device.
