I hate sports, and he is football royalty. I like quiet and predictable, but he's sex and swagger personified. I didn't particularly care for Saint Stevenson the first moment I laid eyes on him, but his warped brain seemed to process our initial meeting as foreplay. I have a meticulous five-year plan in place for myself and my career, but now this huge, cocky, self-absorbed quarterback who I've been assigned to at work is seriously f--king it up.

The first time I met Merrick Crawford was during my job interview. Well, technically, I’d met him 20 minutes earlier when he’d barged into a fitting room a few doors down from my appointment. I yelled. He yelled. After an argument while standing in my bra, I proceeded to smash the door into the gorgeous jerk, trying to yank it shut. As you might imagine, I was freaked out when I discovered that the rude guy was my potential new boss. Yet he didn’t seem to recognize me. Or so I thought.... Until we wound up bickering again during my interview and he told me to go sniff my armpit.

After Elizabeth Hill is brutally attacked in her apartment by an intruder and then unceremoniously dumped by her ex-boyfriend, she moves in with family that she barely knows for protection. All she remembers about Roman is that he was the moody, mean boy who played a cruel trick on her when she was just six years old. She soon learns that he is now a complex and multilayered man who has the ability to protect her, ignite her, and challenge her like no one ever has before.

I’m banished to Vermont for a scandal that wasn’t my fault, and broke because my famous father cut me off. And did I mention my roommate stole my boyfriend? Yeah, I’m loving my Moo U experience. Now I need a job, because this gel manicure won’t upkeep itself. The only available option is the last one I’d ever want - a job as the hockey team’s equipment manager. My plan is to do the bare minimum, get paid, and find my way back into my father’s good graces. 

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own. 

There are bad ideas and there are good bad ideas. My former fiancé banging a nanny - that was a bad idea. A good girl having her first ever one-night stand with the hot former bad boy she just met after being dumped? Bad idea. When I find out that the nanny's ex-boyfriend is looking for revenge, I should run - far away. But I don’t...because rebounding with Vince is the most awesome bad idea ever. Do I want to help him get back at our exes in this way? Oh. Hell. Yes. I want him to get back at my ex hard. With wild abandon. All night long.

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.

Boss babe. Ice queen. That’s what they call me at the office. But there’s one man who has secretly melted me for years. Kaede McWarren. The only problem? He’s my big brother’s best friend. But when he asks me to play his fiancée to seal a business deal? Oh, I’m taking this gift horse and riding it while I can. He’s got the whole tall, handsome, and intense thing down...with a side of quiet mystery and sexy brains to boot.

Maxx Reynolds needs help. His shop, house, and life are all in a state of disarray. In desperation, he turns to the internet to hire a new employee, thinking it will make his life easier. What he expects is a fellow named Charly. What he gets is a quirky, sassy redhead named Charlynn who runs circles around him. And she's all woman. He can't stand her. He can't keep his hands off her, either.

Trey Westcott - devastatingly gorgeous. Intimidatingly brilliant. Powerful beyond belief. As the first trillionaire in existence, my boss lives a life most people can only dream of. Anything he wants is a snap of the fingers away. But when the coldhearted magnate snaps his fingers and requests me for a stint on his arm playing the role of his devoted fiancée and then some, he makes an offer I can’t refuse. And so I don’t. But I make it clear that he’ll have my time, my body, my attention, my discreet professionalism - everything except my heart. It’s not for sale. 

My hockey star boyfriend cheated on me with not one, but three puck bunnies. In. The. Same. Night. Hat Trick, motherpucker. I was mad, okay? Furious. I gave up the career of my dreams for him, and how did he repay me? I just wanted to make him hurt as much as he hurt me. So I slept with a couple hockey stars of my own. From a rival team. Oops. The best cure for a broken heart is an orgasm.

The things I want to do to my sweet, kindergarten-teaching, mitten-crocheting best friend Libby Collins are 10 different kinds of wrong. Maybe 20. But I'm a firm believer in teaching by example, and by the end of our first sex lesson, we've graduated to a hands-on approach to her education: my hands all over her, her hands all over me, and her hot mouth melting beneath mine as I prove to her there isn't a damned thing wrong with the way she kisses. 

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans. 

Lucky. The one adjective used to describe my entire hockey career. I prefer to call it hard work - at least I did until my game went to complete crap. I haven’t scored in eight games, and the team owner is talking about trading me. I’ve never believed in superstitions. Never needed one. I suppose I was “lucky” in that way. But now the best way to refer to me is desperate. I’d wear the same socks for an entire year just to be the high-scoring center I used to be. Imagine my surprise when after spending New Year’s Eve with a woman, I score a hat trick in the next game.

Sebastian Blackwell isn't only the sexiest man I've ever met. He's also my boss. The way our every interaction is laced with sexual energy makes my already difficult job that much harder. He turns me on so much, I constantly fantasize about him. To the point where I find myself writing at work about what would happen if we had an affair. It's not a big deal, I swear. This is meant to stay at the purely fantasy level. Until he finds it.