I just wanted to tell Hunter Kiss where he could shove the fancy phone he gave my little brother as an obvious bribe. I’m sorry/not sorry I hit him in the nose with it, but sports agents who come sniffing around with dollar signs in their eyes have to get through me.
But now I’m pinned between the wall and Hunter’s naked body, and I’m the one sniffing his unbelievably hot, freshly showered skin…and trying to remember I’m a strong woman who stands on her own two feet, not one of his peanut-butter-legged conquests.
I make college football players into stars without having to bribe them, and I’m pissed Dani Cross thinks otherwise. But anger isn’t all she makes me feel. The pink-haired, pierced tattoo artist is so hot she makes me want to forget my own rule: one night per woman, no exceptions.
Only she doesn’t trust me as far as she can throw me. (And trust me, that woman has an arm.) She’s been hurt, and it’ll take more than smooth talking to make her forget the pain. But for the first time in my life, I’m ready to lay it all on the table—even if closing the deal means offering my heart.
I love Lee Bowers. And that sucks.
He’s my brother’s best friend, but a bookish nerd like me would never fit into his celebrity-chef, serial-heartbreaker world. I don’t do risks. Lawyering feeds my bank account. Anonymous food blogging feeds my soul.
But one night, in a red-wine-fueled funk, I pour out my feelings in a blog post, safe behind my anonymous mask. And realize too late my drunken fingers hit “Publish” instead of “Delete.”
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am screwed.
At first, I wanted to skewer the popular food critic who brutally lampooned my restaurant—apparently while simultaneously ogling my butt. But you know what? She’s right. The only hands-on time I’ve spent in the kitchen lately involves a hot blonde and, um…a zucchini.
Somewhere between my I’m-gonna-sue fury, and unexpectedly cuddling with Jenna after a night of soul-searing sex, I accidentally discover that blogger’s identity. And my whole life does a screeching 180.
I love Jenna Harrison. And I’m going to prove it to her, one anonymous, sexy text message at a time.
As a photographer, I appreciate contrasts. The stiff, snobby brat on the flight from New York turns out to be a scared, vulnerable woman who warms my heart. The icy cold soda she dumps in my lap leads to the hottest sex of my life in an LA dressing room.
When I watch her walk away, I feel something I’ve never felt before. A twinge of regret that I’ll never see her again. Except we do meet again. And she’s driving me insane.
Clearly, I’ve lost my mind.
Turns out the owner of the deep, sensual voice that kept me from needing the airline barf bag, who lured me completely out of character to indulge in anonymous, semi-public sex, is the photographer for my designs’ first photo spread in Bella fashion magazine.
Worse, our artistic visions clash. And every time we butt heads, our butts somehow get naked.
I can’t let my hormones cloud my judgment. I tried having it all, and it didn’t work out. I have to stop envisioning a life with him, and get my head back in the game…before I lose everything.
Appearance is everything to my upper-crust mother, but when she insists I take back my pedigreed-but-cheating ex? I’d rather stab myself with a salad fork. So I blurt out I’m dating someone new. Someone like…that smoking-hot, vaguely familiar guy across the restaurant, who could be the next James Bond.
Turns out he’s the star of my favorite, cheesy, sci-fi soap opera. (Don’t judge me.) One minute I’m fantasizing about Borg and his green-hued abs. The next, Simon Dale is making me an offer my sex-starved body can’t refuse.
I’m up for a breakout movie role that’ll launch me off the B-list, but I don’t need a script to read the scene between Marissa and her mum. Even though I’m a London gutter rat who never rubbed elbows with a Royal, I easily slip into the role of Marissa’s doting boyfriend. Why? I need a favor in return— a steady girlfriend, just long enough to convince the producers I’ve changed my wild ways.
Trouble is, I’m going all Method on this relationship—and close to losing the one thing that could break me. My heart.
Once, my country songs touched millions of hearts but I dropped everything to disappear. I’m my own woman now, and no one controls me. But when a beyond sexy man rolls down a sand dune in a misguided attempt to rescue me? I’m charmed. The attraction, the heat…it’s real. And who knows, maybe this time I’ve found someone who doesn’t care about who I used to be. Only about who I’m becoming.
After I wake up in the ER, my brothers prescribe three weeks away from Kiss Talent Agency, whether I like it or not. Then I meet Kara, a sensitive, artistic soul hiding who she is. When she invites me on a wild road trip, I’m all over it. But it only takes me a hot second to figure out why Kara’s hiding, and if she realizes who I really am, she’ll be gone in a cloud of dust, taking my heart with her.
She finds a wallet (not a shoe), and he’s a billionaire (not a prince), but this time, Cinderella’s turning the tables. . . .
Handing out samples at a grocery store isn’t exactly my dream job. Yet here I am, tray in hand and fake smile plastered on my face. The one highlight is seeing HIM. I don’t know his name, but if I did, I’d scream it during the naughty dreams he inspires. He’s crazy handsome, all confidence and an air of power.
He’s never said a word to me. Never even looked in my direction. Then one day he stops to talk to me...then literally falls at my feet. I take care of him until the EMTs whisk him away. Now I have his wallet. I know where Bastian Rich lives. And I’ve found the nude photos of him online.
It’s not the bruschetta on her tray he really wants to taste. . . .
Something about Julia Rominger has me intrigued . . . and more than a little aroused. Maybe it’s her lush curves driving me wild. Or the fact that she has no problem telling me to go to hell. Either way, she’s seen me at my worst. Now it's time to show her my best.
The best ways to touch her. The best ways to kiss her. The best ways to drive her crazy.
And finally, the best ways to make her mine. Because I won’t stop until that’s exactly what she is.