Obsession

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Maybe not a personality to brag about, but he oozed that kind of dark sex appeal that made good girls do bad, bad things. Over and over again.

Fuck. That was all I could think as I stared at the wrapped sandwich on the counter. Why in the fuck had she made me a sandwich? Did I seem like that kind of guy who couldn’t fend for myself?

I smiled then—a big, toothy idiotic smile—and Serena didn’t see it. Her eyes were closed, which was good, because I was turning into one big vagina.

Even more outrageous was the fact that I actually liked this—whatever this was. Cuddling? Oh hell, this was cuddling. Spooning to be exact. I was fucking cuddling.

“Humans aren’t as frail as you think they are.”