Inked

Sullivan and Will are as close as two friends can be. Growing up in the system forced them to rely on each other, and they've become accustomed to sharing everything - including women. Now they're ready for more. To find love. To start a family. To see the dreams they've shared since childhood come true. Apparently I tick off every box on their list - brains, beauty, and sass. I never hesitate to put both men in their places - which they find sexy as hell. One problem, I'm a traditional girl, with traditional values - one man, one woman, till death do us part - kind of values.

For six generations, the women of wine country have had a saying: don’t bang a Hunter man unless you want a bun in your oven. Yeah, well. I’ve got a saying too: no thanks. The last thing I need is baby makes three. My business is expanding, and the only thing I’m interested in getting knocked up is my bottom line. But then one night, Emma Haverford makes me an offer I can’t refuse - she backs away from the land I have my eye on in exchange for a favor...a big, fat, baby-making favor....

Sweet, nerdy, lovable Keaton. She's my best friend and has been for years. Sure she likes numbers and math, and thinks doing other people's taxes is fun. And I like...none of that stuff. She reads novels I'll never understand, and yet we just click. There's no one I'd rather share breakfast burritos with or binge watch hours of Netflix with. She's my person. And so when she takes off her glasses and asks me to help her improve her skills in the bedroom, I barely have to think about it. Of course I'll help her. There's no one better for the job. But what happens when she's ready to take her new-found confidence and move on?

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.

How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons: Snag a gorgeous rental on the beach. Check. Get a job at a trendy summer haunt. Check. How to screw up a great summer in the Hamptons: Fall for the one guy with a dark leather jacket, scruff on his face, and intense eyes that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the tony-looking crowd. A guy you can’t have when you’ll be leaving at the end of the season. Check. Check. Check. 

I shouldn't have remembered him. He was just a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn't know his name. We never made eye contact. There was no connection between us at all. But I could feel him. The tingle down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.

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.

I'm one puff piece away from tearing up my journalism degree and hurling my laptop into the Hudson River. So when I smell a juicy story brewing at my brother's Wall Street investment firm, I'll do whatever it takes to get my scoop. One clever disguise later, I'm deep undercover as the firm's newest broker, simultaneously gathering intel and spouting off stock tips like a boss. Go me, right? Sure, it sounds good on paper, but there's a catch: the actual boss. Chief Executive Panty-melter Jack Holt is cocky. Infuriating. And one smoldering look has me ready to violate every rule in the employee handbook. Thank God my assignment has an expiration date. Because falling for my brother's best friend and business partner is a lose-lose proposition. Right? 

I couldn't have scripted a more perfect night. For one fantastic evening, at a masquerade party in the heart of Manhattan, I'm not the millionaire everyone wants a piece of. Fine - multimillionaire. But who's counting all those commas? Not me, and not the most intriguing woman I've ever met. And that's why I'm eager to get to know her more, since my mystery woman seems to like me for me, rather than for my huge...bank account. Everything's coming up aces. Until the next day, when things get a little complicated. (Newsflash - a lot complicated.)

I didn't mean to sneak a peek at my older brother's best friend. But when I catch him showering by mistake, I can't help but look. The guy is massive - and I do mean everywhere. We're all home to celebrate Dad's retirement as one big happy family, except my newlywed brother's already getting divorced, my mom keeps asking why I'm still single, and most frustrating of all, Barrett Wilson is staying with us at my parents' home for the weekend. I've known Barrett for years, so why am I suddenly noticing so many new things about him - like how big he is? It's maddening.

Thirty days ago, my boss, Mr. Wolf of Wall Street, came to me with an offer I couldn't refuse: Sign my name on the dotted line and pretend to be his fiancée for one month. If I agreed, he would let me out of my employment contract with a "very generous" severance package. The rules were pretty simple: No intimate kissing, no actual sex. Just pretend to love each other for the press, even though I've secretly wanted to knock that sexy smirk off his face since the first day we met.

I'm a lot of things - a screwup, a basket case, a flunky. But when I take a nanny job to be near my pregnant sister, I swear to myself I'll walk the straight and narrow, which means I cannot fall for my insanely hot boss. I don't want to be tempted by that rugged rancher. By his chiseled muscles or southern charm or the way he snuggles his kids at bedtime. Ethan Carter won't get the key to my heart, no matter how much I want him.

They say Paris is always a good idea.... You know what I say? Paris would be a much better idea if I spoke the dang language. I can't even board the metro to visit the Louvre without ending up at the Moulin Rouge, and let's not even mention how I'll ever make it through a day at my new office. Fortunately my company hooks me up with my own personal translator. Ooh la la. Or should I say bloody hell? Because he's charming, witty, and British, and he brings the city to life for me.

When I’m offered the chance to leave New York to live in London for three months, I can’t pack my suitcase fast enough. As soon as I touch down, I’m obsessing over red telephone boxes, palaces, and all the black cabs. But my favorite place is the tube. It’s wall-to-wall hot British men in suits. 

The first time I met Caine West was in a bar. He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out. When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight -- telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass. You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend-smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married. He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he'd done.