But when a “What are you wearing?” text from a random wrong number turns into the hottest, most entertaining—albeit anonymous—relationship of her life, she thinks things might be on the upswing….Colin Beck has always considered Olivia his best friend’s annoying little sister, but when she moves in with them after one of her worst runs of luck, he realizes she’s turned into an altogether different and sexier distraction. He’s sure he can keep his distance, until the moment he discovers she’s the irresistible Miss Misdial he’s been sort of sexting for weeks—and now he has to decide whether to turn the heat up or ghost her before things get messy.

    His sculpted abs and gorgeous eyes are wasted on such an arrogant man, which makes me hate him even more.Even though I’ve had a crush on him since I was ten, the feelings weren’t mutual and he’s made that very clear. He’s always loved getting under my skin and one night against my better judgment, I let him in my bed. I’ve succumbed to his manw**re ways, but that doesn’t change a thing.Because the King is about to get played at his own game—and lose.Checkmate, King.This is book 1 in the Travis & Viola duet and must be read first. Suggested for mature readers only.

    He doesn’t use me, hurt me, or forget about me. He listens to me, protects me, and sees me. I can feel his eyes on me over the breakfast table, and my heart pumps so hard when I hear him pull in the driveway after work. I have to stop this. It can’t happen. My sister once told me there are no good men, and if you find one, he’s probably unavailable. Only Pike Lawson isn’t the unavailable one. I am. PIKEI took her in, because I thought I was helping. As the days go by, though, it’s becoming anything but easy. I have to stop my mind from drifting to her and stop holding my breath every time I bump into her in the house. I can’t touch her, and I shouldn’t want to. But we’re not free to give into this. She’s nineteen, and I’m thirty-eight. And her boyfriend’s father. Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

    But Eden Gordon works with me, so it's getting harder and harder to stay away. I promised my family—and him—I would, though.My days as an MMA champion are behind me. But whenever I see her, with those wicked curves and soft mouth created for dirty deeds, it's a knock-down fight to just maintain my distance. "Hard Knox" becomes more than just the name of my tattoo shop. However, surrendering to the forbidden might be worth losing everything...

    They tell me it’s infatuation, and will never come to anything. Never mean anything. Because what would I know, right? I haven’t even finished school. I’m just a silly little girl. And no little girl should want the things I want from him. No little girl should have the thoughts I have… But they’re wrong. I really do love Mr Roberts. I love Mr Roberts because he’s the most amazing man, the most amazing artist, the most amazing teacher that could ever have existed. And what if… just what if Mr Roberts wants me, too? What if Mr Roberts really does want to Teach Me Dirty? (Please note that the heroine is 18 years old) For mature readers only.

    Thomas Hard, the pleasure is all mine … literally.I can’t help it that my name suits me well.You know what else suits me well? That girl sitting across the bar, with her lips right where I tell them to be. I want her, and when I want something, it’s gonna be mine.One night. No names. No phone numbers. Just me, her, and pure pleasure.Except, that one girl turns out to be the biggest mistake of my life.Why?Because I broke my cardinal rule …Never b*ng a student.Author’s note: Don’t like reckless decisions & unbridled scr*wing? Don’t love girls that are obsessed with rainbows, unicorns, and ice-cream? Don’t enjoy a bit of corny humor sprinkled on top? Then this book is not for you. And last but not least, if you hate cats with huge jewels… Don't even bother.

    She was his muse.To everyone in town, Abel Adams was the devil's spawn, a boy who never should have been born. A monster.To twelve year-old Evie Hart, he was just a boy with golden hair, soft t-shirts and a camera. A boy who loved taking her picture and sneaking her chocolates before dinner. A boy who made her feel special.Despite her family's warnings, she loved him in secret for six years. They met in empty classrooms and kissed in darkened church closets. Until they couldn't.Until the time came to choose between love and family, and Evie chose Abel.Because their love was worth the risk. Their love was the stuff of legend.But the thing about legends is that they are cautionary tales. They are made of choices and mistakes. And for Abel and Evie, the artist and the muse, those mistakes come in the form of lights, camera, sex.NOTE: This is NOT a paranormal or a priest romance.

    You'll be left wanting a Dr. Ryan Andrews of your own.---------- Warning: This story contains mature humor, a lot of cursing, and of course, sexual situations. It’s intended for adult readers who enjoy that kind of thing. ---------- Sexual Surrogate (Definition): A sexual surrogate, sometimes called a surrogate partner, is a member of a sex therapy team consisting of client(s), supervising therapist, and surrogate. Some couples attend sexual surrogacy sessions together, while some people (either single or in a couple) attend them alone. The surrogate engages in education and often intimate physical contact and/or sexual activity with clients to achieve a therapeutic goal. - Wikipedia ---------- Dual POV with no cliffhanger. Stand-alone book 1 in The Off-Limits series.

    The effortlessly popular, lacrosse superstar, beautiful, blue-eyed nightmare Emerson Sawyer. Funny thing is, he didn’t even know I existed until our senior year, when his mom started hooking up with my dad. Now he torments me in the hallways, calling me “Sis” whenever he gets the chance, relishing in the fact that I can’t hide my blushing whenever he’s around. Even though I can’t stand him, my body betrays me—and he loves it. Emerson and his mom just moved in with us, and as if crushing on him wasn’t weird enough, now our bedrooms share a wall. The sexual tension keeps building between us, but I know nothing can ever happen…especially now that our parents are engaged. I try to tell myself that I hate him, that he’s wrong for me, that we’ll never be together… So why did I agree to play Seven Minutes in Heaven at his girlfriend’s high school party? And why does Emerson suddenly have my panties in his hands?Stepbrother Billionaire is a standalone novel. It contains adult themes, harsh language, and graphic sexual content.

    Love is the last thing on the list, but when Baya meets her brother’s roommate she begins to have thoughts and feelings that make even her blush.Bryson Edwards has a secret he prefers buried in the past and long forgotten. He prefers loose girls, fast cars, and long nights working at the string of bars his family owns. When his roommate’s sister shows up on the scene, she’s far too innocent and sweet for him but he can’t shake Baya out of his mind and worse, it looks like she’s seeping into his heart as well.Baya seems determined to show her brother she’s not a little kid and equally determined to use Bryson’s body to prove her point. It’s been made pretty clear that Baya is off limits to Bryson but their undeniable sparks explode into a whole lot more than just a few 3:AM kisses.

    A lead singer in their band.A picture of rugged perfection. And a drunk soul mate who couldn’t commit.My second love was an arrogant baseball player.A player in every sense of the word.A smooth-talking, reliable best friend. And a chance at something beautiful and true.The problem with having a first and second love? That would be loving them at the same time. My story isn’t some sexy triangle. It’s exquisite agony.Fate gave me two men to love, but none of us knew which one I could keep.

    Since the moment Smith Redfield laid eyes on me, he’s hated my guts. I’m serious, I think the raven-haired restaurateur gets physically sick just being in my presence. And he’s never been shy about hiding that fact. There was the time he cackled when I landed face first in a pile of Manhattan trash bags. Or the night I tried to throw my ex-boyfriend a surprise party, and Smith had strippers crash the bash. Or maybe it was New Year's Eve, when he got in my face and called me a sheltered goody two-shoes who wouldn’t know passion if it smacked me in the lips. He’s rooming right next door for the summer months, and I don’t think more animosity could exist than in the hallway of our vacation rental. As if I wasn’t already sporting a bruised ego and broken heart from the way his best friend left me. But the more midnight run-ins we have, the more I can’t help but think about the way his mouth would feel against mine. With each heavy-eyed glance over the dinner table, I’m starting to wonder if the damaged alpha male doesn’t harbor more than just loathing towards me. After all, they say hate is the closest emotion to love. And with the way we’re skating that thin line, it’s bound to burn this whole house down.

    Dark and thunderous, furious and fierce. Cold, heartless and devastatingly beautiful, like the statues in our prep school gardens. The school with his family name on the sign. He can do no wrong here. This is his domain. He’s a menace on campus. Adored and feared. Hated and respected. His taunting words carve into my skin, shredding me to ribbons. Yet his intense gaze scorches my blood, fills me with a longing I don’t understand. When I stumble upon him one night alone, I find him broken. Bleeding. My instincts scream to leave and let him suffer, but I can’t. I sneak him into my room. Clean him up. Fall for his lies. Let him possess every single part of me until I’m the one left a gasping, broken mess. When he leaves me alone in the dead of night, he takes my journal with him. Now he knows all my secrets. My hate. My truth. And he promises to use my words against me. I’ll be ruined if my darkest secret gets out. That’s when I strike a bargain with the devil. I’ll let Whit Lancaster ruin me behind closed doors instead.

    Rebecca Sharp comes an enemies-to-lovers epic romance with a forbidden twist...Love is angry. Love is blind. Love is envious and loathful.And I loathed Léo Baudin. My new art professor. My enemy.I didn't move to Rhode Island for this. I came to forget the Troian Milanovic I'd left behind and start fresh where the damage and betrayal couldn't follow.But Professor Baudin wouldn't let me.Cold. Caustic. Captivating. He didn't just push my buttons... He lit them all up with the indifferent smirk of an aristocratic French asshole. But how much I loathed him only made my need for him stronger. To have him would be either victory or loss. There would be no compromise.To have him would be war.So I fought back. But I was Troy, and he was the wooden horse, full of dangerous secrets I never saw coming. I was the one who invited him inside my walls, celebrating without seeing through his disguise. And under the cover of darkness, he laid siege to my body, my mind, and finally, my heart. The first may be a myth, but this time the history books would show that if Troy fell, it was with her all.The Fall of Troy is the first book in the Odyssey Duet.

     
Cassie 
I can’t stand jocks. And I don’t know the first thing about football.
 So it’s just my luck that the tutoring job I take to get me through graduate school involves making sure a dumb jock passes his classes.
 Now, I’m babysitting Colton King, a spoiled arrogant player who’s as famous for his bedroom antics as he is for his football skills.
 The tight end with the filthy mouth tells me he’ll show me that everything’s bigger in Texas. 
And heaven help me, I just might be considering it. 
* * * 
Colton 
My life is one big party, and that’s never going to change.
 Not even if my coach finds me a nerdy tutor he thinks will keep me in line. Miss Goody Two Shoes is uptight, high-strung, and unimpressed by the fact that I’m a campus legend.
 Even worse, the hot little tutor is as pure as the driven snow. 
Debauching her and making her mine is the ultimate challenge. And I always rise to the occasion. *This is not a football-heavy story, so if you're not into sports, don't worry! It's light on the sports and heavy on the steam!*