Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer—because it was free.I think it’s important to be open and honest with your co-workers, don’t you?So here I am, being honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide.I like you so much it’s clouding my judgment and making me do things I never would sober. Like write this letter.I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist? An egomaniac. An insensitive, arrogant prick. Your bark is worse then your bite, and you don’t scare me. The fact is, I’d love that bite of yours to nip at my bare skin while we’re both wearing nothing but sheets.For once I want you to look at me as more than one of your employees. And as long as we're being honest, that navy blue suit you wear? With the crisp white shirt? It really makes me want to loosen your tie and show you who’s boss. Love,Sincerely,Yours.

    Stipulation--we do it together.It doesn't take a tarot card-reading psychic to figure out where our story is headed... late nights, trips out of town, and more than a few awkward moments filled with sexual tension.No worries though. I pride myself on my willpower. I can totally ignore his sexy grin, his rock-hard body and his dreamy brown eyes. I will not become the woman other women hate.But it turns out that Enzo Mancini has a lot of layers and if I don't stop peeling, I'm going to lose everything, including my dignity.Don't miss this NEW Steamy Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance by a duo of USA Today Bestselling Authors!

    And then he went and smiled, and oh my, how much his parents must have spent on his teeth. He was downright edible.I could be exaggerating though, I did have a little too much to drink. To cut the long story short, I went back to his hotel room... and it was a totally ah-mah-zing night. Well, the rest is a bit sordid.One night stands are supposed to be. You creep out, or he does. I stole the march on him and left before he opened those heavenly eyes. I filed the night away in my head under Fantastic Experiences.When I was an old woman sitting on a rocking chair on my porch eating ice cream while my seven or even ten grand children played in the front yard, I would recall the night and tell me myself, "Blair, you scored well that night."Then I got ready for the Interview day at the new job I was celebrating. Thankfully I did get the job.But now you must know where I'm going with this.That's right, that unforgettably gorgeous man I was going to be congratulating myself over when I was wrinkled and gray, he was my new boss!And even without the alcohol he was climb-worthy, but I should add, he was what any reasonable woman would also call a boss-hole...A full length standalone office romance with all the heat you can handle.

    The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night.With no plans, we made our own. We danced and laughed our way around Boston and had a night of crazy passion that no woman would ever forget. That was twelve months ago, and I haven’t heard from him—until today. I started a new job and met the CEO. You can imagine my surprise to see those naughty blue eyes dance with delight when he saw me across the mahogany desk. But I’m not that carefree girl anymore. My life has changed, I have responsibilities. I just got an email. He wants to see me in his office for a private meeting at 8:00 a.m. Naughty blue eyes have no place in the workplace. What kind of private meeting does he have in mind?

    Location: Cubicles outside Canon’s office.Co-workers: Betting on how long Canon’s new PA will last.Me: No doubts. Ms. Gum-smacker won’t last the day. I need to place my bet.Manolo Blahnik’s New Fall Shoes: Mine. As soon as Madeline hands over my winnings. Emma Baker has never spoken a word to Alaric Canon, nor has he to her. But she’s studied him every day across the office tundra for almost a year. Canon is hard and fierce, terrifying and beautiful. He’s also the most stern, unforgiving person Emma has ever seen. Emma’s co-workers run a betting pool for Personal Assistant terminations. There’s a separate pot for the day one leaves without crying. Not likely…Canon made a former Navy SEAL cry. He has high standards and low tolerance. Everyone knows it. Everyone stays away. Everyone who can, that is. Except Emma. She can’t look away. Alaric Canon is the single most attractive man she’s ever seen. Bar none. Canon has never noticed her. Not once in almost a year. She’s not even a blip on his radar. But she will be. His radar will be blipless no more. It is a goal. Emma has a plan.

    Seriously. The guy is like a potassium addict. Of course, I touched it. If you want to get technical, I actually put it in my mouth. I chewed it up, too... I even swallowed.I know. Bad, bad, girl.Then I saw him, and believe it or not, choking on a guy's banana does not make the best first impression. I should backtrack a little here. Before I ever touched a billionaire’s banana, I got my first real assignment as a business reporter. This wasn’t the same old bottom-of-the-barrel assignment I always got. I wasn’t going to interview a garbage man about his favorite routes or write a piece on how picking up dog poop from people’s yards is the next big thing. Nope. None of the above, thank you very much.This was my big break. My chance to prove I wasn’t a bumbling, clumsy, accident-prone walking disaster. I was infiltrating Galleon Enterprises to follow up on suspicions of corruption. Cue the James Bond music.I could do this. All I had to do was land the position as an intern and nail my interview with Bruce Chamberson.Forget the fact that he looked like somebody carved him out of liquid female desire, then sprinkled on some "makes men question their sexuality" for good measure. I needed to make this work. No accidents. No disasters. No clumsiness. All I needed to do was hold it together for less than an hour.Fast forward to the conference room before the interview, and that's where you would find me with a banana in my hand. A banana that literally had his name on it in big, black sharpie. It was a few seconds later when he walked in and caught me yellow-handed. A few seconds after that was when he hired me. Yeah. I know. It didn't seem like a good sign to me, either.

    She isn't an executive, she isn't sexy, or otherwise noticeable, but the girl is cute - in a helpless, unique sort of way.He can't pretend to say she ever crosses his mind, though... Until the day he finds the manuscript she worked on during her lunch hour.Shy girls write it better is an adult romance with explicit content. Standalone novella ending on a happily for now note.

    Point is, she cost me my two best friends ten years ago. It’s payback time, and I’m going to make her life hell.When I’m not banging her silly and myself stupid.I need to get my head back in business, because getting off is great, but "He was a man who had sex, and lots of it, and in the worst locations, with the woman of his nightmares" isn’t the inscription I want on my tombstone.Even if it’s true.AmbrosiaThere are three things I hate:Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking loudly like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett.Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It’s been ten years since he took my virginity—I’d make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a bratbest joke, and yes, it kills me to admit it—and now he’s not only a billionaire, he’s also my new boss.Turns out our hate is mutual. And this kind of hate is horrifically twisted, filthy, and banging hot.I just might have to hate him forever.MISTER McHOTTIE is 45,000 gloriously hilarious, hot, sexy words that your mother warned you about, complete with an organic happy-ever-after (or seven), a Bratwurst Wagon, ill-advised office pranks, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

     Patton Fletcher is ✔Demanding,✔Driven,✔Sexy AF, and✔My New Boss.My sister says don’t fall for him. I say don’t worry.I’m not about to let some arrogant, young CEO derail my dreams.Or insult my wardrobe. I don’t care about his deep brown eyes or the way the muscle moves in his square jaw when he’s pissed.I won’t fall for his power or how sexy he fills out that suit. I said I could resist him. I was wrong… Raquel Morgan is Trouble. She’s stubborn, independent, and a fighter.She has long, dark hair, crystal blue eyes, and freckles…Freckles.And long, sexy legs.And a smart mouth. I’ve spent seven years building one of the top companies in Nashville, and I’m not about to let some ambitious, cardigan-wearing new kid distract me from my goals.Raquel Morgan won’t tempt me.I’m The Boss, and I never lose control… (BOSS OF ME is a STAND-ALONE workplace, enemies to lovers, military romance with a badass alpha boss and the feisty woman who steals his heart. No cheating. No cliffhangers.)

    A perfectionist executive. And a whole lot of name calling.Whip-smart, hardworking, and on her way to an MBA, Chloe Mills has only one problem: her boss, Bennett Ryan. He's exacting, blunt, inconsiderate—and completely irresistible. A Beautiful Bastard.Bennett has returned to Chicago from France to take a vital role in his family's massive media business. He never expected that the assistant who'd been helping him from abroad was the gorgeous, innocently provocative—completely infuriating—creature he now has to see every day. Despite the rumors, he's never been one for a workplace hookup. But Chloe's so tempting he's willing to bend the rules—or outright smash them—if it means he can have her. All over the office. As their appetites for one another increase to a breaking point, Bennett and Chloe must decide exactly what they're willing to lose in order to win each other. Originally only available online as The Office by tby789 — and garnering over 2 million reads on fanfiction sites — Beautiful Bastard has been extensively updated for re-release.

    Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality required.Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a “buffer” from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with “candidates” to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé…This “free-spirit” might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for “date nights” (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday? Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met his match…

    Instead, I’m trapped in personal assistant hell. His hobbies include barking orders, torpedoing my advertising campaigns, and reducing the office staff to tears.On a good day, he acts like I’m invisible. On a bad day, I remind myself arsenic is not an acceptable sweetener for coffee. And prison orange would be murder on my complexion.Imagine my surprise when Chase follows me home to Bitter End, North Carolina, where I’m about to endure my ex-fiancé’s wedding.The moment he chases off my date and offers to pose as my boyfriend, I know he's got a hidden agenda—especially when he plays the part a little too convincingly. Unfortunately, I have to play along to find out what he’s really up to.To satisfy the town gossip squad, I’ll have to let him kiss me. Who knew Satan’s lips were so soft and inviting? And if we’re really playing the part, we’ll have to go to Lover’s Lane – testing my willpower beyond its limits.The more time we spend together outside the office, though, the more I see a different side of him. He’s still bossy and demanding, but is it wrong that I find it kind of, well … hot?This wedding is bound to be hell, so I might as well spend it in the arms of a sexy devil.

     But one look at Cade Hill, the sexy new sports director, and uptight reporter Rebecca Fieldstone is daydreaming about other things. Sex in his office… Sex in the on-set kitchen… Sex in the supply closet… She can’t stop thinking about the former NFL quarterback and how perfect he’d look between her sheets—except he’s an arrogant jerk with a huge… ego. He’s the last guy she’d ever have a one-night stand with. Cade Hill draws a thick professional line on office romance—until it comes to the hyper-focused Rebecca. He wants her, and he gets his wish when a chance encounter has them having the hottest sex of their lives. It’s just a hook-up, she says. When can we do it again? he says. With Rebecca determined to keep Cade in the friend zone, it’s going to be an uphill battle for Cade to convince her he’s the last guy she’ll ever want. THE LAST GUY is the first white-hot CONTEMPORARY ROMANTIC COMEDY from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia Louise. It features Fireball-fueled hookups, Doritos Locos Tacos, attack monkeys, toddlers in tiaras, and one fabulous drag queen. Prepare for frantic clicking (or page flipping!) and smoking-hot sexytimes all the way to the out-of-this-world happily-ever-after.

    One hot boss. One too many hot encounters... It’s not you. It’s me. No, seriously. It is me. Not only does my name literally mean “unfortunate,” but that’s the story of my life. Everything I touch turns to crap. An apartment fire—that I swear I was not responsible for—means I’m living back at home with my sex-mad parents. Yay, me! Which is why I need my new job as personal assistant to Cameron Reid to get back on my feet. Three months in this job and I can move back out and, hopefully, remember to turn off my flat iron once in a while. Ahem. On paper, my job is easy. Make coffee. Book appointments. Keep everything in order. Until I walk in on my boss, half-naked, wearing nothing but the kind of tiny white towel that dreams are made of. Now, nothing is easy—except our mutual attraction. But he’s my boss, and you know what they say about mixing work and pleasure: unless you do p*rn, it’s just not worth it. Or is it?

    But where’s the fun in that? She decides to stay and exact a little revenge on her insufferable ass of a boss.Billionaire Cole Harrington quickly figures out something’s afoot with his usually agreeable personal assistant. When he finds out about the office pool betting on how long it’ll take him to fire her, he decides to spice things up and see how far he can push her until she quits.The game is on, with everyone waiting to see who will crack first. But the bet sparks a new dynamic between them, and soon they realize they just might have crossed that fine line between hate and love.