I’m known around town for.
body, covered in tattoos with a sizeable bulge that women spend their nights
that will fuck them rough without holding back.
distraction from reality. They need something to get their mind off of the
boyfriend who screwed them over or the job promotion they got passed over on at
someone reckless in the bedroom before settling down with the right one.
guy you take home to meet the parents. I’m not the guy who will make you feel
all warm and fucking fuzzy inside.
even made a good husband. That was before everything good in my world got
ripped away, leaving me broken beyond repair.
real world, but none of them know I
need it more than them. I need something to make me feel alive. Something to
get my heart beating again.
broken-hearted and pissed off at the world, needing an escape from her cheating
use my body. In fact, she wants nothing to do with it and has no problems
telling me so.
me—to move into my rental property. But the problem with that is the more we
fight, the deeper she buries herself in my soul.
Sex material is what I’m good at, but for
the first time, it may not be enough.
up Cami is standing barefoot in a little white summer dress with her long
blonde hair pulled up into a lose bun.
hardening beneath my jeans, and the moment my gaze moves up to her scowling
lips, it manages to harden even more.
even a real application?” She holds the paper up and points at one of the extra questions I added before printing
it. “How many times a week did Douglas make you come? Really?”
definitely a real application.” I stand, wiping my hands down my jeans. “Did
you answer every question?”
her head and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Did I… did I answer every question?
Of course I didn’t, because there’s at least three that are irrelevant to me
living here. You’re insane if you think I’m going to give you that kind of
head in disappointment, I move toward Cami, stopping once I’m standing right in
front of her. “Then you didn’t listen.” I point out. “I told you to complete
the application and bring it back to me within a few hours, and here you are
four fucking hours later standing in my
kitchen with an incomplete form.”
swallows nervously, her gaze roaming over my half-naked body as I take another
step closer to her, my arms now on either side of her waist, her back against
the counter. “Now answer the fucking
he made me come weekly?” she questions stiffly. “Maybe I can’t answer that question.”
shame,” I say against her neck, before moving my lips up it, stopping just
beneath her ear. “Want to know how many times a week I would make you come?”
When she doesn’t say anything, I lick my lips and continue. “Fourteen.”
realize there’s only seven days in a week, right?” Her voice is weak, and I
can’t help but hope it’s from my body being so close.
I whisper in her ear. “But that’s just the number of times I would, not the
number that I could.”
full of it.” She places her hands on my chest, causing me to take a slight step
grip her waist with both hands. “I could prove right now that I’m not.”
Bestselling Author of the Walk of Shame Series.
Victoria Ashley grew up in Rockford, IL and has had a passion for reading for
as long as she can remember. After finding a reading app where it allowed
readers to upload their own stories, she gave it a shot and writing became her
She lives for a good romance book with bad boys that are just highly
misunderstood and is not afraid to be caught crying during a good read. When
she’s not reading or writing about bad boys, you can find her watching her