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220 pages, Paperback
First published December 24, 2014






For this one night, he could drop the good-guy mask and act on the primal urges he'd been fighting his entire life.

You know, you're really not as nice as you look."
"Isn't that what I've been telling you all along?" His smile widened. "There's nothing nice about what I'm going to do to you tonight."
And then he touched her...

C'mon, angel, give me a taste of the wild girl you used to be. I promise you can lock her up again after tonight..." He parted the top of his pants. "At least until the next time I want her to come out."
Ha. Boy next door, her ass. AJ Walsh was the devil.



“I’m asking if I can take you home and screw your brains out.”
“The golden boy was gone, replaced by a primal creature teeming with raw sexual energy. The electricity in the air was liable to burn her alive.”





Mr. Nice Guy, the man who held doors open for his dates and didn’t sleep with a girl until they’d been seeing each other for a proper amount of time. The guy who offered women his shoulder to cry on and bought them flowers for every damn occasion.
“I need to see you. Take the shirt off. Now.” A command, low and sultry, inviting no argument.
“Do it for me.”
Without a word, he reached for the hem of her tank top and slowly dragged the material upward.
“No bra?”
“No point. My boobs are too little. I only wear one in the winter to cover my nipples. They get really hard and pointy when I’m cold.”
“They’re hard right now,” he taunted. “Are you cold?”
A breath shuddered out. “No.”
He smiled. Didn’t make a single move. Brett fought an odd rush of self-consciousness as he focused on her puckered nipples. She was standing there topless—and his hands were resting at his sides. Why wasn’t he touching her, damn it?
“What’s that distressed look for?” he teased. “You need something from me, Brett?”
“You know what I need. Touch me. Please.”
“But I’m not done admiring you.”
“You’re not done tormenting me, you mean.” She glared at him. “You know, you’re really not as nice as you look.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you all along? There’s nothing nice about what I’m going to do to you tonight.”
And then he touched her. And he was right. It wasn’t nice.”
“I learned never to trust men with dimples.”
He grinned at her, and the dimple in his chin popped out as if on cue. “Aw. You don’t trust me, angel?”
“Not in the slightest. You’re an evil man who does evil things to my body.”
“Ha. You like it. Scratch that—you love it.



