My Best Friend's Brother (Make Her Mine Book 1) Read online

  My Best Friend’s Brother

  Make Her Mine Series-Book 1

  Alexis Winter

  It’s no secret I’ve always had a crush on my best friend’s older brother.

  Damon Strickland, the center of every single one of my fantasies.

  He’s a walking, talking temptation.

  That cocky grin and those broad, athletic shoulders.

  You know what they say about a man with big hands right?

  Growing up, we always tormented one another.

  I was the nagging, annoying little girl he hated

  And he was the man-whoring, douchebag I couldn’t seem to get over.

  Now as adults he actually came through and helped me land a job at my dream company.

  How the hell am I supposed to focus when all I can think about is tearing that tight suit from his tempting body!

  What’s even worse?

  He forgot to mention he’s my boss.

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  * * *

  Ten years ago I gave my virginity to an arrogant, man whoring jerk who never called me back.

  Ten minutes ago I just found out he’s my new coworker.

  * * *

  Who knew a failed blind date would land me square in the lap of the gorgeous bastard that cut and run after one passionate night ten years ago.

  * * *

  Falling for Nate Baldwin in college was the biggest mistake of my life.

  * * *

  Nothing like a good old fashioned heartbreak to teach a girl a valuable lesson.

  * * *

  Now? He’s just a cocky, prank-playing bastard in an expensive suit.

  * * *

  I can’t decide if I want to punch him in his perfect mouth or kiss it.

  * * *

  Turns out there’s a very fine line between hatred and desire.

  * * *

  A good anger bang on a desk…or stairwell…or car never hurt anyone.

  * * *

  But what happens when he calls a truce and starts playing nice?

  * * *

  Not a chance in hell I’m falling for him again.

  * * *

  That mistake stays in the past.

  * * *

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  Copyright 2020 by Alexis Winter - All rights reserved.

  * * *

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  * * *

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Contents

  It’s no secret I’ve always had a crush on my best friend’s older brother.

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  1. Jazmine

  2. Damon

  3. Jazmine

  4. Damon

  5. Jazmine

  6. Damon

  7. Jazmine

  8. Damon

  9. Jazmine

  10. Damon

  11. Jazmine

  12. Damon

  13. Jazmine

  14. Damon

  15. Jazmine

  16. Damon

  Epilogue

  Billionaire with Benefits SNEAK PEEK

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Read the rest of the Make Her Mine Series

  Also by Alexis Winter

  About the Author

  1

  Jazmine

  “What exactly are we looking for?” my best friend, Maddie, asks as I drag her through yet, another store in the mall.

  “Something that will make me look professional for my first day of work tomorrow. You know, a nice skirt with a cute top, or a dress suit. Something that will make me look like a well put-together adult but at the same time bring out all my best features.” I smile, happy with my description.

  Her blue eyes squint at me and her plump, pink lips narrow into a straight line. “So something sexy enough to get my brother’s attention, but not so sexy that you’ll be fired. Got it.” She shoots me a wink as she points her long index finger at me.

  I laugh off her comment and playfully smack her arm as I glide past her. “You of all people know that I don’t care how your stupid brother looks at me.” Just hearing myself say this sentence is laughable. Everyone knows I’ve had a crush on Damon since the moment I set eyes on him when I was five years old, even though I’d never in a million lifetimes admit it. In fact, I’ve been very adamant about denying any and all feelings for him for the better part of my life. I mean, if I never say it out loud, is it even true?

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Maddie says, tossing her brown hair over her shoulder as she picks up a dark gray skirt. She shows it to me with wide, excited eyes.

  I scrunch my nose. “Too short.” I grab another skirt off the next rack and show it to her.

  “Too long.” She scrunches up her nose the same way I did. “Next store?”

  I purse my lips together and nod. “Guess so,” I agree.

  We both hang the skirts back on the racks and head out, in search of another store.

  “How are you going to decorate that new office?” she asks as we walk through the mall, our heels clicking on the shiny white floor.

  I laugh. “I don’t even know if I’ll have an office. It is your brother that got me the job after all.”

  She turns and looks at me with a yeah right face. “Exactly. He knows you’ve put in your time and know what you’re doing. If anyone is going to root for you there, it will be him. God knows I can’t do it from where I’m at.”

  “I just graduated, Maddie. I have to start from the bottom and work my way up. I don’t have any expectations or the idea that I will be treated differently than any other new graduate.”

  She snorts at my statement but keeps walking.

  “I’ll probably end up in the copy room or pushing papers for the first year.” I nod. “And I’m okay with that. I’m nothing if not determined.” I flash her a quick smile.

  She rolls her blue eyes. “How about this place?” she asks, pausing in front of another shop.

  I shrug. “Might as well.”

  A little while later, we’re walking out with my perfect outfit: a black pencil skirt, a light blue, button-up shirt that has bell sleeves, a wide belt, and a pair of black pumps. Maddie says the soft blue shirt makes my olive skin glow. Already I can see myself in this outfit with a pair of black framed glasses and my blonde hair pulled up into a bun. I bet I will make Damon give me second look if nothing else. Now, I’ll just need to find me a fake pair of glasses to give him dirty librarian fantasies.

  Thinking about Damon causes a sigh to escape my mouth. I’ve been in love with him for as long as I can remember, but he’s never treated me like anything other than his sister’s annoying friend. I understood when we were younger. I mean, he is three years older than me. No high school senior wants to be seen with a freshman. But now that we’re adults and out in the real world, I thought things would change. The way he acts toward me is the same he’s always acted: like an older kid picking on the smaller one. He plays tricks, calls me names, and picks on me just as much as he always has. For a while, I thought that was just his way of keeping himself in check, like he couldn’t see me as a woman if he thought of me as a kid sister, but he’s never shown any real interest, and that makes my stomach hurt. I feel like the same teen
age girl that had to sit back and watch as he went out with a different girl every weekend, watching as they touched and kissed him the way I wanted to.

  Without even meaning to, my head drifts back to the night I spied on him with his date from Maddie’s bedroom window. Before my eyes, I can see him as he helps her out of the truck and pushes her against it before moving in for a kiss. My stomach tightens as the jealous fire burns hot inside of me. But I quickly put it out by imagining that girl being me. I can feel his soft lips against mine. I can taste his sweet flavor. I can smell his delicious cologne that always makes me a little weak in the knees.

  “Seriously, stop daydreaming about my brother. It’s disgusting,” Maddie says, snapping me from my thoughts.

  “What? I’m not thinking about Damon!” I nearly shriek.

  She snorts in laughter. “Yes, you are. You always get that stupid look on your face.”

  “What look?” I cross my arms as we step onto the escalator.

  “Your eyes start to shine, then glaze over. Your lips turn up just a bit at the corners, and your cheeks turn pink. You start breathing faster, like just picturing him gets your heart racing,” she says all breathy and dramatic.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I argue, even though, he truly does make my heart race and has for many years.

  Damon has always been the athletic type. In high school, he played every sport our school had to offer. Baseball, basketball, football, track, and wrestling. In college, he stuck with basketball and track, but damn how I missed seeing him in that wrestling uniform.

  His skin is tanned year-round from spending as much time as he can outside, and his muscles are firm and toned from so much activity. His dark brown hair is almost always styled, but the way it looks all messy after a run is sexy as fuck too. And his green eyes, with just a hint of blue, they cut right through me every time he looks my way.

  “Ugh, stop! You’re doing it again.”

  I laugh and bump my shoulder against hers. “Shut up.” I glance down at the bottom level and my eyes land on the pretzel stand. “Have time for a cinnamon-sugar pretzel?”

  She smiles wide. “Of course.”

  We giggle as we run from the escalator to the stand.

  “This time, it’s on me. I feel like you’re going to need as much sugar as you can stand to put up with my brother eight hours a day,” she says before ordering and handing over her card.

  “He’s not that bad, Maddie.”

  “Yeah, but sometimes he’s a total douche-canoe.”

  We both laugh as we take our sugar pretzel to a nearby table.

  My alarm goes off at six and I pop up, excited to get to my first day of work. I’m still tired since I had trouble falling asleep last night because I’m so nervous, but the excitement pumping through my body energizes me enough to keep going, to move faster.

  After turning off the alarm, I nearly run to the bathroom to shower. An hour later, I stand back and look myself over in the mirror. My new outfit looks amazing. The pencil skirt hugs my hips and has a slit up the back, giving just a peek of my tanned legs, which now have a nice shape thanks to the black pumps. The baby blue top flatters my thin frame and shows just a touch of cleavage—not enough to think I’m looking for attention, but enough to show off my womanly curves. I pulled my hair up into a neat bun and added just a little makeup: some shimmery eyeshadow, a little brown eyeliner and mascara, and a layer of peach lipstick.

  Happy with my appearance, I grab my purse and keys and head out. Living in Chicago, I opt to hail a cab instead of trying to walk the six blocks in these heels. Most of the time, I walk where I need to be. If it’s too far, I stick with the bus, but today, I want to be early. I don’t want to take the chance of having a baby spit up on me or someone spill their coffee down my top. Today, I want the quiet time to prepare myself. Hopefully, this is the first day of the rest of my life. I laugh at how stupid that sounds, but seriously. This is the job I’ve worked years for. If I can get it, I’m never letting it go.

  The cab comes to a stop in front of a tall glass building. The sign on the front reads: Windsor Wealth Management. It causes a surge of excitement and happiness to bubble deep within my stomach. Without saying a word, I hand over the cash and step out, still gawking at the big fancy building.

  I take a deep breath and snap myself out of the trance I’m stuck in. “It’s okay, Jazz. You can do this. Just go in there and show ‘em what you’ve got,” I tell myself, needing a pep talk.

  As I walk across the concrete, I dig around in my purse for the piece of paper I was mailed; reading over it, I find the directions for my first time in the building: First thing, please go to room 107—Internal Affairs—to receive your work I.D. and to fill out your tax information.

  The revolving door spins, and I jump inside, feeling like a hamster in a wheel until I step into the building, my steps echoing against the granite floor. There’s a big sign in the foyer, one side is a list of names while the other side has room numbers and floor level. I find that room 107 is located on the ground floor, and I quickly walk up to the receptionist.

  “Windsor Wealth Management, please hold,” she says, pushing buttons on the phone. “Can I help you?” she asks, giving me her attention.

  “Room 107?” I ask, motioning toward the hallway on her right and the one of her left.

  She smiles sweetly. “To your left.” She clicks another button. “Windsor Wealth Management, please hold.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, not trying to disturb her as I head to my left.

  After I’ve filled out all the employment forms and had my picture taken for my employee I.D., I read the next step on my paper: Please go to the fifth floor and see the receptionist.

  I walk back into the lobby and over to the elevators. There’s already a small group of people waiting to get on. I join them and continue reading over my instructions as I wait.

  “Look at what we have here,” I hear someone say, looking up just in time to see Damon coming to a stop beside me. My heart momentarily halts in my chest at the sight of him. He’s dressed in a well-pressed black suit with a white shirt and red tie. His dark hair is styled neatly, and he’s wearing a grin on his lips, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

  Even though I want to fall at his feet and ask how I can please him, I reign myself back in, crossing my arms over my chest and narrowing my eyes at him. “Ugh, I wasn’t expecting to see you so early in the morning. I can tell I’m going to need a lot more coffee.”

  He laughs, clearly having fun with me already. He loves getting under my skin, and I think he loves it even more when I give him shit right back. His eyes quickly glance down my body and back to my eyes. “You clean up much better than I pictured. I mean, look at you.” He motions toward me. “I was half expecting cut-off jean shorts, a flannel, and biker boots.” He winks at me, knowing damn well I would never dress like that for work.

  “That was one Halloween, and I’ll never live it down.” I shake my head while holding off my smile. I remember that Halloween very well.

  “What do you think, Maddie?” I ask, stepping out of my bathroom and into the bedroom where she’s waiting on me.

  She looks me up and down, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. “You look freaking amazing, Jazz! I mean, you could get into a night club like this!” She’s walking circles around me.

  I smile, happy with her praises, as I turn and study my reflection in the mirror. I’m supposed to be a punk rocker, and I guess I do look punk rock, but the only reason I picked this was to show some skin to get Damon’s attention. My blonde hair has streaks of hot pink, blue, and purple—temporary, of course—my eye makeup is thick and black as night. I have a fake nose ring in, and my lips are painted a deep, dark red. I’m wearing a black tube top, showing off my firm stomach, but keeping a tad classy by putting on the red and black flannel I leave hanging open. I’m wearing the shortest pair of cut-off jean shorts I could find, paired with ripped fishnets and biker boots.

&
nbsp; “Let’s go to my house so I can get ready,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind her. I let out a sigh of relief when we make it through the house without my mom seeing this crazy outfit. No way would she let me out of the house like this.

  Just as we’re walking up the drive at Maddie’s house, Damon is stepping out of his brand-new truck.

  “Sup, dork?” Maddie says, walking past him.

  He opens his mouth to say something back, but his words fall short as I walk into his view. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is hanging open just like Maddie’s was, but he’s fighting off a smile.

  “What are you supposed to be?” he asks, walking a circle around me. I turn my head to watch him. His eyes are moving up and down my body, and my thighs tighten as my cheeks burn.

  “A punk-rocker. Duh,” I say, hoping he didn’t notice the way my voice was cutting out.

  He comes to a stop in front of me, but now, he’s not amused: he’s concerned. “Your mom let you out like that?” He motions toward me.