Worse than that? She's broke. Her boyfriend recently left her, so she's stuck paying her hefty apartment rent alone. After two months unemployed, there's no money left. With no immediate family to turn to, Red reaches out to her estranged grandmother, a reclusive writer living on an island off the coast of Charleston. Several days later, Red receives $30,000 and an invitation to visit. James Wolfe is not Red's grandmother - but he's the only person waiting for her at the boat dock. Red has something he needs. He won't take "no" for an answer, and he doesn't mind screwing her over to get it. He lost his conscience six years ago, when he went off the grid. Since then, life is about him - and the renowned oil paintings he does under the mysterious pseudonym "W." Until the moment he sees her. Then Red is all he wants. And Wolfe will have her - any way he can. * This story is the first of three serials about Red & Wolfe. Red & Wolfe Part I was originally published in The BEND Anthology, a collection of stories from the authors of The Erotica Consortium.

    I just know what I like.A powerful billionaire in a suit wasn’t even my first choice. McAllister Stonewall was never on my radar, I didn’t even know he existed.But I do now.His hands are all over me at work. The heat of his chest pressing against my bare back as he bends me over the desk is the only thing on my mind.He is my most forbidden desires unleashed. He is my new secret obsession. He is my Mr. Perfect.Until the moment I realize… There’s no such thing as perfect.

    Probably not in retrospect. In my defense I had just moved back into my grandparent’s house, I’d lost my dream job, and a guy on Tinder had stood me up. It was like life had suddenly stamped ‘LOSER’ on my forehead. So when the guy behind the bar started giving me THE look…you know, the one that promised I’d be screaming his name into the wee hours of the morning? When that guy also has the perfect amount of scruff on his chiseled chin, biceps bulging out of his t-shirt, and a cocky grin you knew he’d earned in the sack…when he gives you that look, you don’t bother to figure out what your six degrees of separation are. You jump on that horse and ride it! Pun fully and completely intended. And accurate by the way. I fully admit to feeling sorry for myself and acting impulsively, but by the time I’d figured out WHO the bartender was, I was already falling for him.