Violent Circle

After the factory closed, leaving me and a good portion of the town unemployed, I took a job managing Scarlet Toys. I knew it wouldn't be a typical work environment, selling adult toys in a town more uptight than a constipated nun, but some things you just never see coming. Like the allure of the man standing in the center of all the chaos. Wyatt Lawson, a six-foot-four-inch heap of muscle with a quick smile, ignited my interest in more than the available manager position. Like the missionary one. Or the rodeo. Maybe the side rider. What can I say? I'm an overachiever.  

January Dixon. She's the girl I've lusted after for years. A smart mouth and sharp tongue surrounded by soft beauty and a body I'd give up an organ just to touch. It's a tricky situation since she lives right down the street and dating a neighbor generally isn't a good idea. But this is Violent Circle, where normal may as well be a dirty word. Thanks to an impromptu fashion show where I tossed all self-respect aside and strutted my stuff in full bondage gear in front of our small town, she now owes me a date. And I plan to collect.