Aria Amherst lied about her age the first night we met. But when I kissed her...I knew exactly how old she was. And once I kissed her...I needed more. I wanted all of her. I wanted everything she wasn’t really offering. Until I found out that her father was making a deal with my business partner. Then I wanted her more.

What's the actual last thing you'd ever want your executive assistant to see you doing the morning after you had hot, drunk, angry sex with her in a terrible hotel room? Dancing around your terrible hotel room to "Come and Get Your Love" like Star-Lord in Guardians of the Galaxy - naked? Yeah. Me too. And yet, here we are.

Lyssa: Freelance princess hunter Mason Macintyre thinks he’s so tough with those bulging muscles. He thinks he’s so smart with his plan to tame me with spankings and submission. Well, I’ve got news for him. They don’t call me Wild Thing for nothing. I’ve been playing unruly princess my whole life, and I’m not about to stop now. Mason: This was supposed to be a simple kidnap job. Catch her and bring her in so she can be married off. But once her father realizes the man he hired won’t be able to handle her, he blackmails me into completing the job.

He’s my brother’s best friend, the hot single dad next door. And one accidental sext later, my massive crush on him is no longer a secret. It’s my own damn fault. I’m 30 years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m a kindergarten teacher and a (reasonably) responsible adult. I should know better than to get tipsy and draft a fake text listing all the dirty things I wish Officer Cole Mitchell would do to me.  I wasn’t supposed to hit send. And he wasn’t supposed to see it.

Callum Griffin is the heir to the Irish mafia. He’s ruthless, arrogant, and he wants to kill me. We got off on the wrong foot when I set a (very small) fire in his house. Our families believe a marriage pact is the only thing that will prevent all-out warfare. I think I might need to murder him while he sleeps. This would all be a lot easier if Callum wasn’t so damned good-looking.

Grace doesn’t know much about anything beyond her town’s limits, but she does know this: She is falling in love with the hottest guy in Sheridan U. And when you play with fire - you ought to get burned. 

When the invitation arrived, it detailed the rules of the masquerade - no names, no identities. I set one more - find a most wicked man for one night. The kind who'll bring me deliciously naughty pleasure in dark corners. But as the clock ticks to midnight, he finds me, whisks me away to a secret alcove, and delivers all that dirty bliss and then some. We make arrangements for another secret rendezvous before I rush out of the ball. But fate has other plans, since I see my most wicked man the next morning. 

This job comes with benefits. I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on her: Summer Sorensen, party queen, super-hot DJ, and soon-to-be rock star. She’s sexy, sassy, strong. But she’s in danger. I know she doesn’t want to hire me. She doesn’t want to need me, but she does. And this job is getting more complicated by the hour.

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom.

There are a few things you should know about my brother’s roommate. Wolfie Cox is complicated, and incredibly sexy. Unfortunately, he has an impressive stick lodged so far up his ass, he’s about as emotionally available as a chinchilla. Actually, that might be an insult to the chinchilla community. So, naturally, I want to ride him like a bicycle.

Cutting all ties, Kayla Montgomery drives cross-country to Los Angeles. New start. New life. And an unexpected new job: assistant to Justin Beckett. The Justin Beckett. The boy band rebel with the cocky attitude and dreamy bed head who casts a spell over his fans and tests the patience of his handlers. Now at the peak of Mount Adulthood, he has to build a clean-cut, movie star image. It’s in his contract. No partying. No attitude. No groupies. To tie it together, he needs a normal girl. Suddenly, Kayla’s swept up in Justin’s glamorous world, and his arms.

Dear Mr. Vega: I felt it necessary to follow up on today’s meeting, since we weren’t able to speak candidly in front of your son. I was shocked to discover that you are Ryder’s dad. I think it would be best if we just pretend that we met in person for the first time today. Your son is a very bright (flirtatious and talkative) student and since his education is a top priority for both of us, I hope I can count on you to respectfully refrain from grinning at me, using that sexy tone of voice, and undressing me with your annoyingly beautiful brown eyes....

With the paparazzi hot on her heels, Mandy Bettencourt is desperate for somewhere to hide, and her best friend has just the place. It’s perfect. No Internet. No phone. A deep bathtub she’s busy soaking in when he shows up. Her best friend’s brother, Dante Crowne. Rich as a cardinal sin and handsome enough to piss off the devil. A man with a brooding, no-nonsense attitude and a reputation for unforgettable bedroom games. 

My love story all started with a letter. Only it wasn’t from the man I’d eventually fall in love with. It was from his daughter. A sweet little girl named Birdie Maxwell who’d written to the magazine that I worked for. You see, once a year my employer fulfilled a few wishes for readers. Only that column didn’t start up again for months. So I fulfilled some of her wishes myself. It was harmless…so I thought. Until one day I took things too far. While anonymously granting yet another of Birdie’s wishes, I got a look at her father.

He's sexy. He's southern. And he won't stop showing up at my door half naked. Meet Elijah Jackson, my hot new neighbor...Charleston, South Carolina: Home to stunning architecture, sultry accents, and - oh yeah - my perpetually shirtless neighbor, Elijah Jackson. As if his abs for days and inked up deliciousness aren’t enticing enough, he also encourages me to chase down my dreams. And the chemistry between us? Hotter than the kitchen at Eli’s restaurant. But I still have a life a thousand miles away. One I’ve worked really hard to build.