Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

"I hung your bath robe on the rack in there," she informed, doing her best to smooth her skirt.

"Alright," I said shortly. "Jonathan is waiting for you outside."

"Okay."

She walked over to the staircase leading down to the first floor of my loft. I hated myself for it, but I had to blurt, "Not even going to say bye?"

"Bye."

Then she was gone. I stood there for a long moment, varied emotions rolling through me, wondering why she'd suddenly decided she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

I know she enjoyed the sex, I thought. What the fuck is going on?

And that's what impressed me about Victoria. She made me work for it, something I’d never had to do before.



Victoria





I shouldn't have been so cold to him, I thought as Jonathan pulled the limo up closer. A pink corvette came swerving into the parking lot like a bat out of hell at the same time we were exiting, but I was too embroiled in my thoughts to notice.

It’d taken a lot to get the strength to leave, and I still wasn't exactly sure what it was that made me do so.

While I'd been taking a shower, all of my doubts and worries about Tyler's honesty came back to me and I suddenly found myself angry again. The strong emotion had made it easy for me to give him the cold shoulder and leave him with a bruised ego.

The image of the hurt in his eyes as I left flashed in my mind, making me feel a little sympathy, followed by a surge of anger.

Still, I had to admit the make-up sex in his office was off the charts. The whole thing had been exhilarating.

He only did it to show off his power over me. I bet he thought he could just smooth everything over with his charm and I would just forgive him because he fucked me good. Bastard.

I dug my fingers into my palm and angrily bit my lower lip, engaged in my thoughts. His cockiness pissed me off to no end. My skin burned as anger flared through my stomach . . . along with feelings of lust.

Fuck.

It pissed me off even more that even though I was mad at him, I still wanted him and couldn’t stop fantasizing about him. I couldn't deny that the sex had been hot. Almost too hot. I didn't think I would ever experience something that sexy again. But did it matter if I did? In the end, I was just a fad, someone he could use against his dad to show his defiance. He still hadn’t proven that I was anything to the contrary.

For most girls, the thought of being with Tyler Locklin would be a dream come true. For me, it was horrifying. That is, as long as I wasn’t thinking about the sex.

I was the first girl who’d ever shown resistance to him, and he wanted to prove to himself that he could conquer me. And the whole thing with helping me start my own business? It upset me that I'd fallen for such an offer.

The limo rolling to a halt at a stop light brought me out of my thoughts. I reached for my purse to grab my cell, I needed to text April about an assignment at work . . . only to find it not there.

“God damn it," I muttered. “It took everything I had to leave. I won’t be able to do that again. . .”

I mulled for a moment. We weren’t that far away from the swanky apartment, but I wasn't sure I wanted to go back there. Showing back up after the cold front I gave Tyler would show that I was weak and needy.

But I need my phone.

Screw it, I thought finally. I'll just run in, grab my purse and leave. I won't even look at him.

"Jonathan," I called. "Can you go back to Tyler's apartment? I forgot something.”



Tyler





I'd just gotten out of the shower, my hair wet, and dressed only in my boxers when I heard a noise that sounded like someone entering my apartment.

It's her.

I grinned, confident Victoria had changed her mind and decided to come back. My ego soaring, I stepped out of the bathroom, careful to keep my expression neutral and not too eager.

I couldn’t keep the exultation out of my voice, though. "Back so soon—"

“Hey, Tyler!” chirped a familiar voice I hadn’t heard in years.

My jaw dropped at the sight of the person standing at the doorway to my bedroom.

No. Fucking. Way. This bitch has balls.

I blinked, trying to will the image away.

Candice.

Am I hallucinating? I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming.

Candice, my old back-stabbing girlfriend, was standing there before me. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, short bangs framed her forehead, her makeup was soft and girly, and she was wearing a tight red dress that showed off her curvaceous figure that I once loved to handle.

I stood there, speechless, staring at her like she was a banshee that had come to haunt me.

It was she that had ruined my faith in relationships. Her, who I’d done everything for. Her, who I made sure wanted for nothing. I gave her everything.

All of me.

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