Prologue
I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be getting ready to leave for college. And here I am, preparing to leave my home, friends, and family for eight years, hoping to get my doctoral degree to become a veterinarian someday. I’ve always loved animals, reptiles, and vertebrates. And it had always brought me great joy whenever I got an injured or sick living thing back to where it needed to be. So, when I started the sixth grade, I wasn’t hesitant to say I wanted to become a veterinarian when my parents asked what I wished to do for a living so they could start saving money to send me to college.
For the rest of my school years, I worked my ass off to keep my 4.0 GPA thinking it would help me get the scholarships I needed to help pay for my tuition costs, room and board, books, and whatever else I needed my parents couldn’t afford. Because of that, it enabled me to receive some of those essential scholarships. However, I learned that even though my grades were perfect; it wasn’t a requirement for many of the scholarships I applied for, and it bummed me because it made me feel like I was trying to win the sweepstakes.
After receiving letters from some scholarships I applied for, I became ecstatic when I saw I had gotten most of what I’d asked for. Primarily because after the doctor diagnosed my mother with ovarian cancer when I was in the ninth grade, my parents had to dip their fingers into the college fund they had for me to start medical treatments. Then my father had to drain more funds out of my college fund when my mother sadly lost her battle with cancer a few months ago to pay for her funeral expenses.
After losing my mother, I thought about not fulfilling my plans of becoming a veterinarian and doing something else that didn’t require a college degree. That was until my brother, Dante, and father talked me into resuming going forward with what I wanted to do—wanting me to continue chasing my dream. So because there wasn’t much money left in my college fund, I wrote many letters explaining my situation, begging for financial aid.
Since I got everything I asked for, and how I graduated with honors, received awards, and even more scholarships with my high school diploma. My brother decided he’d throw me a mixture of going away, birthday, and congratulations for all my hard work party—inviting his friends, my friends, and some of our cousins.
Dante is five years older than me, and because of how proud he is of me and how he and his friends are partiers and love to drink, I know this will be the one time they’ll be happy with contributing to underage drinking and getting me drunk. Specifically, because of what my friends and I did during homecoming weekend. After my brother and his friends had gone out of town that very weekend, we snuck into their place and had our own party—drinking all their beer and booze, leaving us sick for days.
It was also the first and last time I had consumed any alcohol. So I can only imagine how drunk Dante was hoping to get me before I left for California in a few days—wanting to get me sick again. And I’m sure he’s hoping it would teach me a lesson about not wanting to drink like a fish while away from home and working harder to become who I’ve wished to become since a little girl.
I’m looking forward to tonight, not because my brother will feed me alcohol willingly, but because his scalding hot friends will be present, celebrating and drinking with me.
I’ve had a crush on a couple of his friends since I was a preteen, wishing they’d also ask me out, but because of our age difference and how they’re my brother’s friends, who told them they stay away from me, they’ve never given me the time of day. So, since they’ll be at the party, and now that I’m of age and not arresting material, I’m ready to show Dante and his friends that I’m not this little girl they’ve always deemed me to be.
Wanting to look the sexiest Dante’s friends have ever seen me, I rummaged through my closet, pulling dresses out left and right, trying to find that perfect dress that’ll make my brother’s friends drool and for Dante to cringe.
My brother has been overprotective of me since I was born. And while growing up, anytime his friends came over to hang out, Dante always warned them they weren’t allowed to eat me with their eyes, saying that if he ever saw anyone gazing at me in a way, he didn’t like would get a beat down—ending up in the hospital.
Sorry, brother. But there’s no need to hide me from the world or protect me from your friends any longer—I can fend for myself—as of today, I’m eighteen and an adult who can decide who I want to involve in my life.
With my hands gripped to my hips, I stared at the two laid-out dresses on my bed, contemplating which would make my brother’s skin crawl. The firey scarlet deep V bodycon wrap dress hugging all my curves and exposing my cleavage, or the pink lacy cross tie-back dress that also hugs my curves, my cleavage clearly showing from the sides of the dress.
They’re both dresses I’ve never worn, and I have been eagerly waiting to wear them for quite some time. I originally bought the red dress for a wedding we were to attend. Still, my dad and brother didn’t approve of me wearing a dress—assuming guys would gawk at my chest. My mother took me to buy another one—the pink one—which they told me I couldn’t wear either, both of them claiming I was too young to wear something as provocative as these, so they got shoved into the back of the closet.
Since the fiery red dress is sexy and it was the one my brother hated the most, I’m going with it. Because I want Dante to realize that I’m grown up now and how, from this day on, he’ll have no more say about who finds me attractive, comes on to me, or wishes to date me—especially since I’ll be away at college. My brothers cost me enough guys who wanted to take me out throughout my middle and high school years, and since I’m leaving for a long time, I want to show him how done I am with him scaring them away.
When I sauntered down the stairs and saw my father sitting at the dining room table, flipping through paperwork, I tiptoed to the coat rack, grabbed my jacket, then hurriedly put it on before walking over to him to let him know I was leaving.
The closer I got to the table and saw the paperwork my father was scanning through, my stomach sank. He was looking through the box of letters my mother had written him throughout the years, from when they first met until the day she died.
I gripped the chair, pulled it towards me, then sat while reaching for a letter. As much as I hate to say this, I did anyway while staring at a letter my mother wrote him when he was stationed overseas. “She’s in a better place.”
My father’s eyes flickered over the rim of his glasses, painfully saying, “She is, but your mother was way too young and didn’t deserve this happening to her.”
I set the letter back on top of the pile. “I agree, and even though it hurts me to say this, we need to remember that mom was in a lot of pain, and now she isn’t suffering anymore.”
Toward the end of her life, my mom was in a lot of pain and extremely miserable. She also refused to be cared for in the hospital. So my father brought her home and took time off work to be her caregiver rather than hiring someone from hospice to care for my mother. It killed us to see her suffering from all the aches and pains the cancer was causing my mother to feel that when she passed away with my brother, father, and me by her side, there was a sense of relief in us all that she was no longer living in misery.
Ignoring my statement, my father gathered up the letters and placed them back into the box; then, as he put the lid back on the box, he made me swallow when he said, “I thought you returned that dress?”
Even though he already saw what I didn’t want him to see, I clutched my jacket tightly, trying to hide him from seeing my exposed breasts. “No. Since mom liked the dress, she told me to hang on to it.”
My father rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together, and sighed as he rested his chin on his folded hands. “You know Dante will have a meltdown seeing you wearing that dress. Explicitly, since you’ll be around a lot of his friends.”
Not caring what Dante would think once he saw my choice of clothing, I nonchalantly shrugged. “So? I’m not a kid anymore. And he’s not my father. You are...”
“And I don’t like the dress either.”
“But mom did,” I quietly argued, trying to get my point across, then reminded him, “She’s the one who bought it for me. And tonight, since I’m now an adult, I feel like wearing something sexy before devoting all my time and energy to books and taking tests for the next eight years.”
“You’re asking for trouble.”
“I’ll be with Dante. And you and I both know he won’t allow anything terrible to happen to me—he never has," I assured, sliding off the chair and standing on my feet after hearing a horn honking outside. “My ride is here.”
“Be safe. And please. No repeats of what happened during homecoming weekend.”
My lips curled upward, and then I laughed after thinking about how much I threw up for days after the stunt my friends and I pulled. “I don’t plan on it. But if it happens again, you can blame Dante this time, as it’s a going away party he’s throwing for me. At his party house...” I emphasized since he knows how much my brother and his friends enjoy partying.
I hurried out the door before my father could say more and got into the backseat of my friend Andrea’s car, sitting next to my other friend Lyla. Lyla leaned forward as I removed my jacket, looking at me with widened eyes and a smile that made me giggle. ”Oh, shit... is that the dress Dante said he’d burn if he ever saw you wearing it?”
My grin widened to my ears, proudly answering, “Uh-huh!”
Andrea and her boyfriend, Taylor, turned around. “You’re trying to piss him off before leaving, aren’t you?” Andrea asked with a grin that told me she couldn’t wait to see Dante’s expression once he saw me walking around his friends wearing the dress he despises with a passion.
“Of course I am. I have to do something to get under Dante’s skin before I leave for eight years.”
“Remind me to stay far away from you,” Taylor chimed in after he turned to face the windshield, “the last thing I want is for your brother to try blinding me, thinking I was wishing to motorboat his sister’s chest inside his home.”
I reached over the seat and shoved Taylor’s head forward. “Oh, stop it,” I laughed. “He’d never do that to you.”
“The hell he wouldn’t,” Taylor retorted. “I remember Dante getting into a scuffle and trying to gouge his friend Heath’s eyes out after he saw Heath checking you out at the pool last summer.”
Heath’s an idiot—and one of Dante’s only friends I have never liked. “He deserved it. I don’t even know why Dante is friends with him, either. The guy always gives me the creeps whenever he’s around me.” I shivered just thinking about him and how he looks at women like they’re sexual toys. “He reminds me of that guy from Pulp Fiction, Zeb or Zed, or whatever his name was.”
“Zed,” Andrea corrected, then asked, “you’re talking about the guy who raped that woman, right?”
“Yeah! That guy. That’s who Heath reminds me of. He always has that look on his face that he’d do exactly what he did. The guy is a pervert. At least, that’s how he comes across with me, anyway.”
Lyla laughed, shoving me. “I don’t think your brother would be friends with a rapist. And I highly doubt if he were that way, Dante would allow him to be anywhere near you or his girlfriend.”
“I know he wouldn’t; all I’m saying is that’s who Heath reminds me of. Hopefully, since Dante knows how I feel about him, he didn’t invite him.”
“After what happened last summer, I wouldn’t think he would,” Taylor said, then added, “It would be shitty on his part if he did.”
It sure would be.
My stomach turned into knots when Andrea pulled into my brother’s neighborhood, and I saw all the vehicles parked on the street and all the people walking into my brother’s house. ”Wow, your brother went all out, didn’t he?” Lyla said, surprised.
Now I regret wearing what I am; had I known he invited this many people, I would have worn something a bit more conservative. “He told me it would only be a few people at the party. And there would only be his close friends, my friends, and a couple of my cousins around our age.”
Taylor laughed. “Everyone knows your brother in this town. All he has to say is he’s having a party, and everyone will show up.”
Andrea laughed as she opened the door. “I’ll say a prayer for you, Desiree. Because with this many people here, you know damn well Dante will be all over your ass.”
I guess it’s even more of a reason I shouldn’t worry about wearing what I am. I only got all dolled up and dressed as I did to show Dante’s friends what they could have had, had they not allowed my brother to dictate what they could do or say around me.
The music was blaring when we entered the home, with everyone inside standing shoulder to shoulder, talking, laughing, dancing, and drinking like this party was typical for them to attend.
I grabbed Lyla’s hand and began shoving my way through the crowd, hoping to find my brother. Seeing him in the kitchen, passing out red solo cups filled with beer after filling them, I careened over to him, shouting over the loud music, “I thought you said this was going to be a small party?”
Dante’s eyes shot from me down to the cup he was filling with beer, then immediately looked back at me, eyeing me up and down with a disapproved look. His brows knitted together when his eyes locked back with mine, growling, “Why are you wearing that dress? I thought you returned that?”
“I asked you a question first. I thought you said this would be a party for me, not you!”
He handed the red solo cup to the person standing in line, pumped the keg a few times, then began filling another cup. “This is for you, and yes, there were supposed to be just a few of us here. But apparently, word got around that I was throwing you a going away party, and all these other people decided to join it.”
“I call bullshit. You wouldn’t have as many kegs as you do if it were supposed to be small.”
“When everyone started showing up, we realized we didn’t have much beer to supply everyone, so Kit ran to the liquor store and bought a couple more kegs. Now, Desiree... Tell me why you’re wearing a dress that isn’t appropriate for someone your age?”
“To piss you off,” I truthfully hissed.
I honestly don’t care how many people Dante has over; it’s his place. The problem is if he were genuinely throwing me a going away and birthday party, as Dante said, he would’ve kept it simple—only having people over that I know and who I’d miss while away at college.
Dante paraded over to me with the cup of beer in hand. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my room, where you can change into something more appropriate. I know Janessa has something you could wear that’ll fit.”
I shook off his hand from my arm, grabbed the beer from Dante’s hand, then snapped, “Whether you like it or not, I’m not a child anymore, Dante. And because of that, you need to relax and let me do my thing from now on. I can wear whatever I want, whenever I want, and there’s nothing you can do or say about it anymore.”
He folded his arms against his chest and looked me in the eye for a moment before groaning, ”Fine. If that’s how you want it, then I don’t want you coming to me crying when someone here grabs your ass or breasts.”
Finally...
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” I smirked, lifting the cup to my lips and swallowing a large amount of beer in one gulp, immediately belching afterward. “By the way, I warned dad that it’ll be your fault if I get sick tonight.”
“I’m not making you drink.” He pointed to the cup in my hand. “I didn’t give you that. You took it from me.”
I shrugged, smiling. “Either way, it’s still your fault. You could have had a party without alcohol, yet you and your friends chose to supply the entire liquor store for tonight’s party. So don’t try blaming this all on me.”
“You don’t have to drink. You’re choosing to drink,” Dante winked before turning, loudly saying as he walked away, “Remember, you’re on your own tonight.”
He says that now. Let’s see what Dante does if one of the guys attending the party tonight comes on to me; I know him well enough to know that he’ll be singing a different tune if that ever happens, especially since he’s drinking.
Throughout the night, whoever I socialized or danced with, or wherever I went, I noticed Dante was always watching me. And he’d grip his cup tighter whenever a guy pulled me to the side to talk to, congratulate, wish me a happy birthday, and wish me luck in college. And every time I caught Dante angrily turning red in the face, I’d playfully smirk at him.
The beer and shots of Fireball I had been drinking throughout the night were finally getting to me. As a result, I was stumbling, my speech was slurring more and more, my eyes were growing heavy, and my face felt as if it were burning. It also felt like my body was on fire, so I stepped outside to cool off and get fresh air.
As I stood against the railing, looking at the soon-to-be snow-covered mountains ahead of me, my heart dropped into the pit of my belly when a warm body and an arm enveloped me. “How are you holding up?” Kit, my brother’s best friend since kindergarten, asked.
I came outside to cool off, and it worked until Kit stood beside me, wrapping his arm around me and actually saying something to me for once. Now my body feels like it’s on fire all over again.
Kit is literally the hottest friend Dante has and one I’ve had a massive crush on since I was about twelve or thirteen. So for Kit to stand as close to me as he is, talking to me as if he’s never evaded me since he’s known me, is causing the butterflies inside me to awake. It’s also generating the area between my thighs to experience sensations a guy has never caused me to feel and to contract profusely.
For years I tried striking up a conversation with Kit whenever he came over to hang out with Dante, but because of my hothead brother, he’d avoid me. So I’m a little surprised at the moment and feel that if I were to look at him, I’d faint from the excitement.
Feeling his eyes on me, waiting for me to respond, my cheeks and ears lit up like a bonfire. “I’m holding up,” I quietly said, trying to control my breathing.
I looked at him from the corner of my eye when his arm tightened around me. “I’ve been trying to say hello to you all night, but someone would stop me whenever I’d make my way over to you.”
“Let me guess. Dante?”
“Him and everyone else,” he chuckled.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I said, still gazing at the mountains.
“Anyway. On top of wanting to say hello, I wanted to say congratulations on graduating with high honors, for you to be safe while out in California, getting that degree you’ve always wanted, and..." He paused for a second. “And that you look really nice tonight. Actually, you look absolutely gorgeous.”
Hearing this coming out of Kit’s mouth tickled my belly. But...” You’re only saying that because you’re drunk.”
“No, I said it because it’s true.”
My belly tickled again.
Finally, I looked at him, and my body instantly became numb when I saw his eyes fixated on me. “You’re drunk,” I breathed. “You’ve never talked to me like you are now. Hell, you’ve never even looked at me as you are now. So that tells me you’re extremely drunk.”
A wicked yet beautiful grin appeared on his face. And that smile only added more fuel to the fire burning inside me. Then when he spun me to face him, and how his eyes sparkled from the outdoor lighting shining into them as he gazed at me, my beating heart picked up speed.
Suddenly I felt like I was going to die when Kit closed the space between us by slithering his arm around my waist and tightly pulling me against him. Then, using the back of his hand, he caressed my face and smirked, saying, “I may have had a few drinks tonight. But the alcohol isn’t the reason behind me telling you how gorgeous you are tonight. You’ve always been stunning, Desiree.” His hand slid through my hair, cupping my head. “So fucking beautiful for years, but because of Dante, I’ve never been able to express to you my thoughts.”
The heavy desire in his eyes caused me to swallow hard, my stomach to drop, and my heart to thump hard against my chest—so hard that I’m pretty sure Kit could feel my beating heart pounding against his body. And now I feel as if I’m about to have a heart attack because Kit keeps slowly inching his face closer to mine.
Then, my knees weakened, my pussy pulsated to beat the band, and my breathing hitched when he softly brushed his lips along mine as he said, “I want to kiss you, Desiree.”
I was so foggy about what was happening that I said nothing.
“I want to claim these lips so fucking bad,” Kit said, his lips still gliding along mine. Then my eyes closed. Warmth blossomed in my chest, and sparks ignited inside me when his mouth connected to mine—his tongue desperately sliding through my parted lips and into my mouth.
Never having kissed anyone before, I felt a little embarrassed for not knowing what to do. So I tried matching Kit’s mouth and tongue movements, hoping I was doing it right and not making a fool out of myself. The last thing I want is for him to go around town, telling everyone I don’t know how to kiss.
One thing is for sure; I like having his mouth pressed against mine and tasting him—God, he tastes wonderful.
Kissing Kit under the dark, star-filled sky felt magical. And I was enjoying it all until I heard the sliding glass door open and Dante yelling, “What the fuck is going on out here? I fucking told you this would happen, Desiree!”
Kit’s mouth quickly left mine, and when he stepped a foot back, I slapped him across the face.
“Kit? What the fuck are you doing with my sister?!”
Kit turned to face my brother, saying, “I only wished Desiree a happy birthday.”
“By kissing her?”
“Why not?”
Dante looked at me angrily, ordering, “Get in the fucking house, Desiree.”
Not wanting Dante to get angrier with me, I felt it would be best for me not to protest his wishes and go back into the house. But, while opening the sliding door, I froze when I heard my brother shove Kit into the railing.
“If you ever do that to my sister again, you’ll be sorry. So if you know what’s good for you and wish to remain friends without me killing you, you’ll keep your fucking hands and mouth to yourself. Got it?”
Well, it looks like my childhood crush will be back to not talking or looking at me until the day I die.
Thanks a lot, Dante...
At least, I’ve finally been kissed—and by the one guy I’ve been dreaming about kissing and marrying since the sixth grade—the hottest guy I’ve ever known, Kit Maloney.
