We're two different
people.
He's my
cocky, arrogant, rock star stepbrother, Jagger. He betrayed my trust years ago
and I haven't been able to forgive him ever
since.
I'm in
college and the good girl in every sense of the word. Perfect GPA, perfect
group of friends, and worlds apart from my Internet famous stepbrother who's
famously known for breaking hearts and leaving throngs of screaming fans in his
wake.
So how can I tell my body to stop going
crazy every time we're together?
And when you're sharing a
room with the hottest man you know in the most romantic city in the world, how
can you possibly say no?
She's almost unbearable and
completely off limits.
Jessa, aka JJ. My
stepsister.
She's perfect, focused, snide and hates
me.
And she's completely
irresistible.
She haunts my thoughts, my
dreams.
And she's the reason I do what I
do.
I'm a bad boy to forget about
her.
The only problem is, it isn't
working.
***Originally published as a three part
series, this edition includes a 6200 word
BONUS chapter.
Staring into a full length mirror, I admired the A-line
shape of the dress I’d purchased to wear to the café. The top was fitted with a
low neckline that revealed too much cleavage, but the look gave me a
dangerously sexy appeal that I hoped would compete with
Brigitte.
Why was
I even trying to compete with her?
Jagger was an impossible relationship.
He was heat and desire, fantasy and everything a girl could dream about on a
lonely night. But, whereas in fantasy he was the perfect catch, in reality he
was a much more dangerous thing. He was heartache and uncertainty, a constant
variable whose actions you could never predict.
He was one night, maybe two, and that’s
all Jagger could ever truly be.
I didn’t
want one night. I wanted an eternity of nights, which is why I couldn’t allow
myself to want Jagger.
Heavily, I breathed out, brushing my
dress down one more time before I stepped out of the large closet and into the
living room of our suite.
“Holy…” Jagger’s voice trailed off, his
eyes wide and his mouth held agape.
Shaking himself of his obvious shock,
he said, “You look amazing, JJ. I’ve never seen you look so much like…a
girl.”
I
couldn’t fault him for the stupid comment. I was never the type to wear dresses
that often.
“Thank
you,” I mumbled. Feeling a desperate need to retreat away from him, I said,
“I’m going to go check on the girls. We have to get going soon and they need to
finish getting ready.
“Wait,” he begged.
Turning back to face him, my hand
hovered over the knob of the door. I couldn’t meet his stare, couldn’t stand
the admiration I saw behind the striking blue color of his
eyes.
He
looked amazing that night. His hair was pulled back into a loose bun at the
nape of his neck, black strands hanging down along his jawline. A shadow of
stubble covered his cheeks, the dark hair creating shadows along his
cheekbones. He wore a loose, black linen shirt, the top buttons of which were
undone so that a woman could admire the cut of his pecs. With broad shoulders
and thick arms, his body thinned down to narrow hips. His legs were covered
with dark jeans and his feet by the standard black boots he always wore.
He was absolutely beautiful.
I’d become lost just looking at him,
only snapped back to the moment when he asked, “What’s wrong with you, Jessa?
You’ve been distant since we took the girls
shopping.”
Saved
by a knock at the door, I felt a sudden relief at the distraction. I didn’t
want to answer his question because I didn’t know want to admit the
truth.
“Jessa?
Jagger? We’re ready. Elena says we’re running late. She’s been watching the
clock.”
Spinning around, I smiled at Monica. “We’re ready. Let’s
go.”
Following her into the hall, I grabbed the handle to shut
the door, hesitating only for a second when Jagger called my name. Ignoring
him, I shut the door behind me.
I was a coward for running away, but it
was the only option I had.
* * *
“He plays like he’s making love to his
guitar. Don’t you think? An absolute talent that is natural and raw. The sound
of his voice alone gives me the chills.”
Brigitte had cornered me by the bar.
For a good half hour, I’d been able to avoid her after arriving to the café,
but I hadn’t failed to notice how her eyes followed me as soon as she realized
I was with Jagger. We’d played a game of cat and mouse for most of the time
that I’d been here, and I’d used the girls to keep my distance.
After a while, Lizzy wanted a drink, but none of the
girls wanted to leave the table that was front row, center to the stage while
Jagger was playing. As soon as I left the safety of the group, the little
snake-like bitch followed me over to give me the third
degree.
Her snotty
voice gave me the chills, but I wasn’t about to admit that to her. “Yeah.
Jagger is very talented.”
She smiled, the low lighting in the room reflecting off
the red gloss of her lips. “In many ways, I’m sure.” Lust flashed behind her
eyes before she asked, “Is Jagger your boyfriend? You’re a very lucky girl, if
so.”
I was
tempted to lie and claim that he was, but I didn’t want to give Jagger the
wrong idea if Little Miss Sultry decided to corner him later on and blab about
what I’d said.
“He’s
my stepbrother. Our parents got married when we were kids. We’re here escorting
our little sister, Elena, around Paris for her
birthday.”
If I
acted like I didn’t care, she wouldn’t know she’d gotten to
me.
Another
saccharine grin pulled across her lovely face. “Ah yes, he mentioned the
birthday trip. How wonderfully domestic of him,” she
droned.
My eyes rounded at the
nastiness in her tone. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a family vacation,” I
argued.
Glancing at me like she’d just forgotten I was even
there, she flashed me a brilliant smile. “Of course, dear. But Jagger is rock
star material. You can’t teach someone to do what he does. If he wants to shoot
to the top quickly, he needs to be a fantasy. The ultimate bad boy. You know
the type. He oozes that persona already. That’s why I find it odd he would
agree to a family summer
vacation.”
I
wouldn’t let myself react. She was trying to get to
me.
“To
each his own. Jagger happens to like his family. There’s nothing wrong with
that,” I answered.
Grabbing
Lizzy’s drink from the bar, I scooted past Brigitte and crossed the room to sit
with the girls. The room was mostly dark except for the lights above Jagger’s
head. His eyes were closed as he sang, his hands moving over the strings of his
guitar like a lover’s hand would stroke over your body. He’d become lost to the
music, and by doing so, had enchanted every person in the room with his
sound.
Every so often he would open
his lovely eyes and lock them with mine. I wasn’t sure what I saw behind the
blue, but what I heard in his voice made me quiver inside. Love, passion,
devotion…all of it was wrapped up in the words he
sang.
I
couldn’t deny him his talent. He had the voice of a dark angel and the talent
to play any instrument he wanted. My heart fluttered in my chest at the words
of his song, and I fought not to fall in love with Jagger all over
again.
No
matter how hard I fought, I was easily losing. He was hypnotic when he was on
stage, a man that no woman could forget. Tears stung my eyes after he played
several songs because it hurt so bad to know that I could never, truly, have
him.
When
his set was done, and after he’d left the entire audience entranced, he excused
himself from the stage. I assumed he would come over to talk to the girls…or
me…but he was confronted by Brigitte before he could make it down the steps. I
watched as that bitch kissed him on both cheeks, pressing her body against his
before grabbing his hand and leading him into the back
room.
My heart broke into a million
shards when, after five minutes, he didn’t reemerge.
“Where’s Jagger,
JJ?”
Elena
looked up at me with tired, questioning eyes. Looking at my watch, I realized
how late it was at that time and decided not to wait for Jagger any
longer.
“He had
to talk to his friend backstage. He’ll meet us later at the
hotel.”
The
girls looked disappointed, their little broken hearts worn on their sleeves. I
hated to admit I felt the same pain as them at the
moment.
Leading
the group out of the café, I swore under my breath, angrier than hell that
Jagger had ditched us all for a French bimbo in a tight skirt.
Olivia Hawthorne loves short,
hot, intense reads...so she decided to start writing them! She lives in the
heart of Texas with her
family.
