Strung Along (Cherry Peak, #1)

by Hannah Cowan

There are few things I hate in this world as much as a thong. Between the string trying to crawl inside of me with every shift of my thighs and the perpetual feeling of having a wedgie, I’m usually stuffing any I’ve been peer pressured into buying into the back of my drawer. Panty lines? I embrace them. They’re better than having my butt cheeks flossed.

“Let it out. He deserves to feel your wrath,” Braxton coos. “My wrath?” I want to laugh, but it dies in my throat. “That’s right. The wrath of a scorned lover. A bad bitch’s revenge.”

17805559540: Yes. 17805559540: What do I have to do to get plus one approval?

“Brody is all bark and no bite. Don’t worry about all the scowling.” I highly doubt that, but instead of saying exactly that, I look at Brody and smile saccharinely. My next words just explode from my mouth before I can think twice about them. “My sister’s a vet, so I’m not afraid of rabid animals.”

I can take care of myself, but I also deserve to be taken care of if I wish to be. Truly taken care of.

“And what am I?” he asks, nearly groaning the question. Digging into the well of my confidence, I answer, “My man.”

My man. Her man. Hers, hers, hers. It’s the most important title I think I’ve ever had.

“I make you come, Anna, you’re mine. No more goin’ in circles. You’ll be my woman.”

“It’d be easier to fall in love with you, Annalise Heights. And I’ve never been a fan of careful.”