Everyone has a teenage crush.
You know, the hot celeb that you and your friends gush about!
Never in million years do you actually expect to meet your crush in real life.
But I did.
And he became my new step brother.
He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, with sea foam green eyes that stop strangers on the street and a rock hard body that rivals Chris Hemsworth. Yeah, that hot!
And he’s from one of the wealthiest families in America.
But none of that means a thing because I hate him for what he and his stupid friends did to me years ago. It was what made me plead to go away to boarding school and then to graduate school in South Africa.
As much as I want to stay in hiding, I can’t because I have to go back to the Hamptons and face him at the funeral.
The man I’m doomed to see plastered on every gossip magazine and billboard. The man wanted by every woman alive because he’s so f*cking sexy.
But not me.
I won’t fall for a man like him.
Not even him.
No matter what the sight of his gorgeous body does to my insides.
I melted into him. I gelled into him. Every bit of sensation, every bit of pleasure, was literally wrapped up around him and I was his. It was a pleasure bomb going off, a tsunami of large waves ready to consume everything in its sight.
It was such an intense moment between us. The look in our eyes spoke a new language downloading its message in our hearts. Our souls decoded the deeper meaning. It was a newfound level of connection as we held each other tighter. He wrapped my legs around him harder. Our kisses drank each other in.
There was no other way to explain this passion; it was the connection of love.
I loved him. I freaking loved him. I knew it. But I couldn’t say anything. Not at all.
“Take me, Bradley. I…I’m…” I didn’t want to say anything else and I let my lips do the talking as our hot kisses spoke such a language, a special language, that only our hearts and our sexes could do the decoding.
We fit together like a glove. Like a perfect glove. And I didn’t want to let go.