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For all the ladies who’ve dreamed of riding shotgun next to an obsessed, unhinged cowboy with blood on his hands. Saddle up, sweetheart. This is about to get filthy … (and spectacularly deranged).
Sage Everett could never be a rose, she’s a wildflower—resilient and untamed.
“I meant what I said, Sage. Whatever happens, wait in the fucking truck.”
“God can’t save you from The Gambler. Not when there’s a debt to collect.”
I’m rapidly developing a sick, relentless, undeniable obsession … with her.
“Let me remind you what it’s like when a man appreciates a woman and touches her the right way.”
“Tell me you’re not going to be like a mare in heat when I finally let you have my cock.”
“Last chance to say no, Wildflower. Once we do this, nothing will be the same. There’s no going back.”
“You’re a damn wildfire, and I’m standing here with matches in my hand.”
I’m not some goddamn stalker, but her silent guardian.
Kissing Sage is like indulging in three of my favorite deadly sins—greed, gluttony, and lust.
“So fuckin’ addictive, Wildflower.”
“Sleep tight, Wildflower. The Gambler will make sure your nightmares can’t ever haunt you again.”
“I got you, Wildflower. Everything will be okay.”
“You’re gonna wilt for me, Wildflower,”
“You’re mine. To protect. To love. Mine, Sage. Next time you feel fear, I’ll be there to take it away.”
“Gonna wreck you for anyone but me, Wildflower,”
