Dirty Billionaire

My name is Greer Karas, and I should never be allowed near another bottle of booze again. Because when I drink, my friend and I do stupid things. Like take a page out of my older brother Creighton's playbook and post something completely asinine on the Internet. Waking up with a giant hangover to find my humiliating personal ad has gone viral is not my finest moment.

Country music's bad boy, Boone Thrasher, takes center stage in USA Today best-selling author Meghan March's brand new stand-alone Real Dirty Duet!

Fall for a woman over text messages? No way in hell. Reality can never be as good at the fantasy, right? Wrong. It's better. Banner Regent is smart, funny, and so far out of my league she might as well be royalty. I'm a mechanic from Kentucky. She's a New York City party girl. We were never supposed to meet, but one text started something neither of us saw coming. How do you seduce the woman who already has everything? Show her what it's like to be with a real good man.

New Orleans belongs to me. You don't know my name, but I control everything you see - and all the things you don't. My reach knows no bounds, and my demands are always met. I didn't need to loan money to a failing family distillery, but it amuses me to have them in my debt. To have her in my debt. She doesn't know she caught my attention. She should've been more careful. I'm going to own her. Consume her. Maybe even keep her. It's time to collect what I'm owed.

What's mine, I keep, and that includes Keira Kilgore. It's no longer enough to have her in my debt. No longer enough to own her body. I want something more. She can try to resist, but I'll never give her up. Nothing will keep us apart. Not her. Not my enemies. No one. Her debt will only be paid one way - with her heart.

I do what I want and who I want. I don't follow anyone's rules-even my own. I knew I shouldn't touch her, but it didn't stop me. Didn't stop me the second time either. Only made me want a third. My lifestyle suits the savage I am, and she doesn't. But Temperance Ransom is my newest addiction, and I'm nowhere near ready to quit her yet. I'll have her my way, even if it means dragging her into the darkness. Hopefully it doesn't kill us both.

He's arrogant. She's self-righteous. I hate him. I want her. I've been turning him down for two years straight. Every shutdown makes me work harder. I'm not a one-night stand kind of girl. She doesn't realize I won't settle for only one night. He's a distraction I don't need. She'll say yes eventually because I'm not giving up.

Ten years ago, Whitney Gable caught me off guard with her long legs and grab-you-by-the-balls blue eyes. I didn't know or care what her name was. Like any Riscoff worth the family name, I went after what I wanted. We burned like a flash fire until she married another man. She hates me, and she should. I objected on her wedding day. Now she's home, with those same long legs and man-eater stare, but there's no ring on her finger. They say a Riscoff and a Gable can never live happily ever after, but I'm not done with Whitney Gable.

We fell in love on a beach, got married in paradise, and rode off into the sunset. It should have been perfect, but saying "I do" doesn't guarantee a happily ever after. Two years later, I barely recognize either of us behind the walls we've built. It's time to bring it full circle. Back to a tropical paradise. Back to find out if we can still make this work. I'm not willing to give her up, but to save us, I have to risk everything.

Meeting Beth Harrison in the first-class cabin of my flight from Chicago to London throws me for a loop, and everything I know about myself and women goes out the window. I'm usually good at reading people, situations, the markets. I know instantly if I can trust someone or if they're lying. But Beth is so contradictory and confounding, I don't know which way is up.

As a chief stewardess on luxury superyachts, I massage egos, pamper the spoiled, and cater to the most outlandish desires of the rich and famous. I've never had a guest want something I can't give them. Until British businessman Hayden Wolf comes aboard - all sexy swagger and mysterious requests. But guests are strictly off limits and I've never broken a rule. Not even bent one. My family are depending on me and I can't lose my job. Only problem is Hayden Wolf is looking at me like I just changed his life. And he's touching me like he's about to change mine.

Jack Sullivan is a sex toy mogul. An extremely eligible bachelor in New York, he's the full package, right down to his full package. Hell, this man could be the model for one of the toys his company, Joy Delivered, peddles. Instead, he's the powerful and successful CEO and he's got commitment issues a mile-long after the tragic way his relationship with his fiancée ended.

My relationship with Hunter Delucia started backwards. We met at a wedding. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction. I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter. Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me. We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.

It started out like any other morning on the train - until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle. He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world. Who did the stuck-up suit think he was...God? Actually, he looked like a god. That was about it.

The first time we met was at a party. Your ex arrived to show off the person he'd left you for last month, and you asked me to pretend to be your date. I was more than happy to help. You were attractive, smart and witty--and that kiss we shared? It left me wanting you for days. The second time we met was in my office on campus where we were both surprised to discover you were the new master’s degree student in poetry that I would be working with. You promised to be professional. I did no such thing. The late nights and intense study sessions spent alongside you majorly throw me off my game. I want you, and I fight with myself daily over this fact. I know I'm crass, that my sexual innuendos and dirty mouth annoy you, but I live for those two bright spots of color in your cheeks. If that's the only reaction I can get out of you, I'll gladly take it. You hate Mondays so every Monday I slip an anonymous poem into your bag and your smile gets me through the week. I think I'm falling for you, and I know it's wrong. I know that I'm only supposed to be the adviser to your program and nothing more, but here's the thing. I think you're falling for me too.