Joey (Chicago Ruthless, #2)

by Sadie Kincaid

I, Joey Moretti—a one hundred percent card-carrying feminist—would gladly drop to my knees and crawl to this man if he told me to.

Her eyes are a safe zone. Because if I were to let my gaze drift lower, I might let it linger on those insanely perky tits of hers, or the way the perspiration on her back runs down the channel of her spine, slipping beneath the band of her yoga pants and down to her juicy ass. And then I would have to stand here with a raging boner.

She will never do this with anyone but me. Never. Joey Moretti is mine. All fucking mine.