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The name on the screen was “Absinthe.”
But I knew her as the sultry voice blowing up my phone for late night chats about Proust and Hemingway interspersed between the filthiest little … mutually satisfying exchanges … I’d ever experienced in my life.
We’d never met.
Until the day she walked into my office, her cherry lips wrapped around a candy apple sucker and an all too familiar voice that said, “You wanted to see me, Principal Hawthorne?”
The last time my father beat me to a bloody pulp was the night he walked in on me with his woman in his bed.
To be fair, she seduced me. And to be honest, I liked it. But to CPS, I was a victim.
They shipped me to Utah where my estranged mother lived with her husband and two sister-wives. And that’s when I met her. My innocent, wholesome, perfect step-sister. Well, one of many. But Waverly stood out because just like me, we’d been fighting a losing battle our entire lives.
Falling for her was a mistake, but shit, it’s not like I ever made good decisions.
F**k being “family.” I must have Waverly Miller, and I won’t stop until she’s mine.
I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m on my knees before my master.
Some would say I should be ashamed.
Others might say I’m filled with sin.
I say I’m just a woman with unstoppable determination, doing whatever it takes to secure her freedom before the opportunity fades forever.
Nobody knows about us. Not my father, my three mothers, or my seven brothers and sisters.
I was bred to be chaste and true, expected to find a respectable polygamous man and carry on the tradition of our faith.
But this man? The one who owns me with biting kisses and the crack of a leather paddle? He might be the only thing that can save me.
Submission equals freedom. It’s an equation I never thought possible until the day Dane Townsend showed up in my life.
I’m Bellamy Miller, and this is what happens when an angel loses her wings.
PLAYBOY. Noun. A moneyed man who spends his time enjoying himself, especially one who acts irresponsibly or is sexually promiscuous. Synonyms: ladies man, philanderer, womanizer. See Also: Beckham King.
BECKHAM KING. Noun. Synonyms: None.
Vanity wrapped in arrogance and tied with a wicked-intentioned bow.
Obnoxiously attractive.
Wildly talented in the sack.
Everything a girl could want in a one-night stand.
Don’t ask him to commit.
Don’t expect a phone call.
You only get one night.
And God forbid you’re the one girl deemed worthy of a reprise…
Because you won’t stand a chance.
When an arrogant playboy’s mind is set, there’s abso-f*cking-lutely no changing it.
Derek Rosewood is never going to marry.
Ever. Again.
Fresh off the heels of a bitter divorce, there are only three things he gives a sh*t about: his daughter, his career, and his bachelorhood.
An attorney by trade and happily married to his job, he saves the drama for the courtroom and keeps women at an arm’s length. Their fragile, sequined hearts are safer that way. And besides, he’s not in any condition to offer them the love and attention they so foolishly seek from him.
Believe him, he’s not what they need. Not after what he’s been through.
It’s not until he’s assigned as the financial conservatorship for an aloof, enigmatic heiress that he finds his professional – and personal – boundaries pushed to the wayside. They’re all wrong for each other. Emotionally unavailable. Bitter. Jaded. And he’s supposed to look out for her best interests. Protect her.
But *this* wasn’t supposed to happen. And for that reason, Derek Rosewood pleads the fifth.
First it was love. Then it was war.
XAVIER
Work hard, play harder.
All I wanted was a weekend in the Hamptons, but what I got was forty-eight hours of quality time with my former business partner. My ex best friend. The girl who walked away without so much as an explanation the second sh*t got real.
I’m going to make her sorry she was never mine.
MAGNOLIA
Work hard, forget the rest.
All I wanted was a peaceful weekend alone at my boss’ Hamptons manse, but what I got was forty-eight hours with the guy who convinced me to fall in love with him and then did the unthinkable.
He broke my heart once, and I’ll be damned if I let him anywhere near it ever again.
I wish I could say our meeting was happenstance.
I wish I could say we took one look and we just knew.
I wish I could say falling for him was the best thing that ever happened to me.
But none of that would be true.
Rhett Carson was as cold as the ice on which he skated. He was as calloused as the hands that shot the goals that won world championships. He was also damaged. And broken. And he didn’t know it, but I knew all about him … and his unfortunate connection with my estranged older brother.
I knew why he was so bitter and angry.
I knew why he was so cold hearted.
But I didn’t know why I let myself fall in love with him.
And I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop–even when he told me to.
But when the truth came out, I knew I’d lost him for good … until he came back, more cold hearted than ever before.
When some pretty little thing shows up at my doorstep with a suitcase, claiming she rented my house for the summer, I waste no time informing her that my house isn’t for rent. Some Internet jack@ss scammed her out of all her money, but that’s not my problem.
Only when I find her sleeping in her car a couple days later, I can’t walk away. I make her an offer: room and board in exchange for working on my ranch.
She agrees—not like she has a choice—and I open my doors to a girl who sings too loud, sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong, and distracts me with her tight jeans and full lips.
I keep her at an arm’s length, and for good reason. I don’t deserve happiness. And I don’t deserve her.
But when those hot summer days melt into long country nights, I find it hard to keep my hands off of her, even when I know they don’t belong there. My hands in her hair, her body on mine, that glimmer in her big brown eyes when she looks at me like I’ve hung the moon …
For the first time in years, my frozen heart beats again. And when I look at her, I’m reminded that I’m still alive, that maybe all isn’t lost. And when I kiss her, I’m not thinking about the past anymore, I’m picturing the two of us. A future.
But people around here like to talk and rumors are alive and well, and some folks are out to convince her I’m a monster with a sordid past.
And maybe I am …
Like I said before, I don’t deserve her.
There’s a name for girls like me: Sugar Baby. I’m used to being passed around the sexually depraved, middle-aged senators of Washington D.C. like candy, but when I meet him – the mysterious man who buys my exclusivity for three months for price that should frighten me more than his demands – everything changes.
He’s younger than the others. His touch is softer. His lips sweeter. His need fiercer. He has only one requirement…
A blindfold to protect his identity…and to protect me from the danger I’d face if our arrangement leaked to the world.
No phones. No light. No real names. He says I’m his dark paradise, and we have to keep it that way. He promises I’ll thank him someday.
But what is he really hiding? And what happens if I find out?
I have a secret …
I don’t care if you like me or not.
Insatiable lust for power and control runs thick in my veins. My father served as president of the United States of America—and his father before him. Montgomeries are born to lead and rule, to fear nothing and cower to no one, to make allegiances not friends.
But I digress.
With a senate campaign about to launch and presidential aspirations at fever pitch intensity, imagine my dismay when my strategist tells me I need to “settle down” with a “nice girl” in order to appeal to my constituents.
Enter Rowan Aldridge, a head-turning stunner with a charm school walk, Jackie O. refinement, and a well-connected family.
She’s perfect.
So I’ll do what I have to do, make her believe what I need her to believe, and as soon as the campaign’s over and I’ve secured my senatorial seat, I’ll release my pretty little butterfly back into the wild.
But this isn’t about all of that.
This is what happens a villain falls in love.
August Monreaux was a stormy sea of a man, the dark between the stars, an electric chill cutting through a crowded room—all wrapped into one wicked, beautiful package.
He was also off-limits.
My entire life, I was kept a safe distance from the notoriously virulent Monreauxs, banned from so much as breathing the same air. And like the good daughter I was, I obeyed those rules.
Until the one time I didn’t …
Only while I sampled him, he devoured me like the forbidden fruit that I was. And in the blink of an eye, my worst enemy became my first love. His poison became my antidote. His touch, my addiction.
And then he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
So I didn’t.
But falling in love was never part of our secret arrangement.
Our futures were written in the stars long before either of us were born.
But what a Monreaux wants, a Monreaux always gets.
And August will stop at nothing to make me his—even if it costs him everything.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This angsty, forbidden romance has major Romeo and Juliet vibes but promises a HEA.
Filthy mouth. Dirty mind. Messy past. I’m no saint, and I hear my reputation precedes me, but you can’t believe everything people say.
I’ve made a living playing by the rules only when the clock is ticking, the ball has been snapped, and I’m cleat-deep in AstroTurf. But I screwed up last year. I went too far with the girls and the partying and the benders, and I created a PR sh*t storm for my team in the process. As a result, the team owner sentenced me to live in some gated, Floridian retirement village until I can “calm down.”
Football is my life, and I love my team. They’re the only family I’ve got anymore, so I’ll do what I have to do to stay where I am.
The rules are clear: no girls, less booze, zero publicity stunts. If I lay low and repair my reputation, I won’t get cut. It’s that simple. Everything was going well. For the first time in my life, I was living by someone else’s rules . . .
. . . and then *she* showed up for the summer.
My next door neighbor’s great niece is visiting, and it doesn’t take long for me to see Delilah Rosewood is the perfect mix of sexy and smart. She makes me want to break all the rules and draw every penalty just to get a taste. She’s all curves and opinions and bee-stung lips, and I’m all trying-to-do-everything-I-can-to-convince-her-to-give-me-the-time-of-day.
But there’s one problem: she hates me with the passion of a thousand Florida suns.
The words “For Lila, forever” adorned the front of the envelope in blue ink, the handwriting all too familiar. But it didn’t matter what it said. I didn’t have the heart to open it.
We couldn’t be together.
Not after everything …
Leaving Rose Crossing, Maine was one of the most painful moments of my life—or at least it was until the day I came face-to-face with Thayer Ainsworth again.
After a decade of searching, he’s found me, and he wants to know why I quit my housemaid job and left his family’s island estate without so much as a goodbye. But I’m bound by a devastating secret much bigger than the two of us, and telling him the truth has consequences.
Looking into the eyes of the only man I’ve ever loved, I tell him the only thing I’m allowed to: never contact me again. And when he’s gone, I sit down and finally open his letter.
Only it isn’t a letter at all.
And it changes everything.
Talon Gold is a lot of things: good at football, bad at love. Obsessed with scoring, refuses to play by the rules. Cruel. Relentless. Brilliant. Intoxicatingly attractive.
Despite his demanding reputation and propensity for being the most arrogant a-hole ever to strut Pacific Valley University’s picturesque campus, everyone wants a piece of him: coaches, scouts, and pretty little fangirls with pouty lips and perfect top knots.
But Talon … he only wants a piece of me.
And four straight years of infuriating rejection means I’m almost positive he’d take a night with me over a national championship trophy.
But I’m no fool—he only wants me because he can’t have me. And with graduation approaching, time is running out. He’s more desperate than ever, pulling out all the stops and doing everything in his power to get in my good graces.
They say, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
But to that I say, “Why not both?”
I have my reasons …
Sorry, BMOC. This victory? Not going to happen.
My obsession was born of innocence and good intentions, and it began the day I spotted a handwritten journal lying in the bushes outside a townhouse on Lexington Avenue. It was raining sideways that morning, and my plan was to return it the next day; safe and dry.
Only I kept it.
I kept it, and I read it.
A week later, overwhelmed with curiosity and feeling guilty for harboring secrets that didn’t belong to me, I tried to return it.
Only I wasn’t expecting to meet him.
Unapologetically heartless and enigmatically sexy, he claims he knows nothing about the journal I found outside his place, but the reticent glint in his blue-green gaze tells me otherwise.
There’s something different about him; something damaged yet magical, and I’m drawn to him; pulled into his orbit.
There’s just one problem.
The more I get to know him, the more I’m positive the journal belonged to him…
…and the more I find myself hoping, selfishly, that I’m wrong.
Country music god Beau Mason has just announced his retirement from the business at age 30, and I’ve just scored the interview of a lifetime. My network is flying me to Kentucky for his final interview, and at his request, I’ll be spending a few days with him at his ranch.
I should be thrilled. But I’m not.
Beau and I have a history, and I haven’t seen him since he obliterated my heart at the tender age of eighteen. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can see him again.
But I don’t have a choice. My career – my promotion – my dignity. Everything rests on this one interview with the man who turns me into liquid desire and corded steel resentment all at the same time.
It’s just a few days, right? What’s the worst that could happen?