Everyone loves Jace Fisher, my inked-up billionaire stepbrother. I’m the only one who can see him for what he really is: a vulgar, arrogant toolbag with an ego bigger than his you-know-what.
The summer we met, I wanted to smack him clean across the face most of the time, but when I found out what he really wanted to do to me, I packed my stuff up and left without even saying goodbye.
Not because I didn’t want him. Because I was scared of how much I did.
And now, Jace is back, and he’s all grown up. While I was working a minimum wage job on the other side of the country, he founded a startup. Made billions of dollars. Put the rest of our family up in luxury condos.
Jace wants me to come back home and work for him. It’ll be the job of my dreams, he says. All I have to do is sign his contract. Play his dirty little games. Give him control.
But it’s worth it, right? For the job of my dreams? As long as I don’t do something stupid, like actually jump into bed with my dirty-talking, immature, sex god stepbrother, I should be totally fine.
So why am I terrified that’s exactly what I’m going to do?