Dirty Little Secret

I didn’t expect my summer to start with a slap in the face from reality—and definitely not in the form of Jace Carter, my brand-new stepbrother, standing shirtless in the kitchen like he owned the place.

He turned as I walked in, a lazy smirk spreading across his face as he took in my crop top and high-waisted shorts. His eyes dragged down, slow and cocky, like he already knew I hated it… and loved it.

“Morning, Princess,” he said, leaning against the counter. “Nice shorts.”

“They’re called clothes. You should try them sometime,” I shot back, walking past him to get coffee. But my skin prickled where his eyes had been, like he’d left fingerprints without even touching me.

He chuckled—low, dark, dangerous. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.”

“It’s not my mouth I’m worried about,” I muttered under my breath.

Jace Carter was exactly the kind of boy I spent my whole life avoiding. Tattooed arms, cocky smile, bedroom eyes that promised bad decisions. He was the kind of boy who didn’t do rules or regrets.

And now… he was my stepbrother.

God had jokes.

Our parents had eloped to Greece last month and dumped us in this too-big, too-quiet house while they honeymooned like horny teenagers. Which meant it was just me and Jace, under one roof, with too many bedrooms and too little space between us.

“House feels empty without them, huh?” he said, breaking my thoughts.

“Feels peaceful,” I corrected, sipping my coffee. “No one to babysit your ego.”

He walked toward me slowly, like a predator sizing up his prey. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”

I tilted my chin. “I don’t scare easy.”

“No,” he said, his eyes darkening. “You don’t. That’s the problem.”

I stepped around him and set my mug down, trying to ignore the heat blooming in my stomach. I wasn’t stupid—I knew what this was. Flirting. Tension. Stupid, reckless temptation.

He was off-limits. Period.

But then… his towel had dropped yesterday.

And I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

---

Later that day, I was sprawled out by the pool with a book I hadn’t read a word of. I wore my tiniest bikini just to spite him. If he wanted to stare, fine let him burn.

Of course, he came outside exactly five minutes later. Like he had a sixth sense for my presence… or my skin.

“Need sunscreen?” he asked, shirtless and glistening from the sun.

“I need you to stop breathing near me.”

“Feisty.”

He dropped onto the lounger beside me, too close. Always too close.

“I’ve got a question,” he said.

“Doubt I have an answer you’d understand.”

He ignored me. “Have you always been this uptight, or is it just me?”

I turned to him, annoyed. “Is that your idea of flirting?”

He grinned. “Depends. Is it working?”

“No.”

He leaned closer, voice dropping. “Liar.”

The way he said it made my thighs press together involuntarily. His voice had that gravel-soft edge that felt like silk and sin. I hated how my body responded to him—how his presence made my blood heat and my brain short-circuit.

I stood abruptly. “I’m going inside.”

But he grabbed my wrist gently, his fingers warm against my skin. “Stay. Swim with me.”

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” I lied.

His eyes dropped to my body. “You’re already wearing one.”

I hesitated. Just for a second.

That was enough.

Jace stood, walked to the edge of the pool, and dove in—tattoos and muscles and all. When he came up, water slicked his dark hair back, and he wiped his face, looking up at me with the kind of smirk that ruined girls.

“Don’t make me come pull you in,” he warned.

I crossed my arms. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He pushed himself out of the pool, dripping wet, chest heaving from the swim. “Try me.”

And that was when I ran.

Squealing, laughing, I bolted toward the door, but I wasn’t fast enough. He caught me at the waist, lifting me like I weighed nothing, spinning me in a circle before tossing me—**splash**—into the deep end.

I came up gasping, hair plastered to my face, salt on my lips.

He jumped in after me and swam closer, cornering me gently against the wall of the pool.

“You’re insane,” I said, breathless.

He pushed my wet hair from my face. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

I stopped breathing.

Our faces were inches apart. His hand stayed in my hair. His thumb traced my cheek like it was allowed to. Like he owned me already.

I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve said no.

But my fingers gripped his shoulder instead, anchoring me to him.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

Then he did it anyway.

His lips found mine underwater-warm and soft and hungry. My body melted into him, wrapped in water and need. His hands slid to my waist, gripping tight like he couldn’t get enough of me.

And I didn’t want him to stop.

I kissed him back.

God, I kissed him like I’d been waiting for this aching for this.

Because maybe I had.

When we pulled apart, our chests were rising fast, breathing the same stolen air.

“This is wrong,” I whispered.

His hand slid down my back, gripping my hip like he didn’t care. “Wrong never felt this good.”

And that’s when I knew: I was in trouble.

Because Jace Carter wasn’t

just my stepbrother anymore.

He was the one boy I couldn’t stop wanting.

And now that I’d tasted him…

I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop.?