Princes of Ash (Royals of Forsyth University, #8)

by Angel Lawson

Verity Sinclaire might not like belonging to me. But she’s about to find out that belonging to Lex is so much worse.

Wicker Ashby is so many terrible things. He’s a liar. A womanizer. A bully. A spoiled brat with knives for words. For all I know, he’s an actual murderer. This is Forsyth, after all. But all that knowledge never prepared me for another horrible facet of him. He’s also a cuddler.

There are these little things about her that are changing. Or maybe not so little things. Like her tits. They’re bigger. I know it. It’s like a disturbance in the Force or something. I sense their growth.

I’m starting to think I’ve been reading her all wrong, which is embarrassing. I’ve been seeing her as a woman first and a West Ender second, but the truth is, she’s both things at the same time. She’s vulnerable, and she’s defensive about it. She’s pliable, and she’s fighting it. She’s desperate for companionship, and she resents it. She’s not Michael Ashby with tits. She’s me with tits.