The man was so sexy she understood why every member of the double X-carrying chromosome imitated saran wrap in his presence.

If the gods of Gorgeousness and Charm and Sexiness had a threesome, Jason Burkwell would’ve been the resulting love child.

He was a drool-worthy, panty-drenching, yummy work of masculine art.

I have something I need to get off my chest.”“What’s that?”“This.” He closed his mouth over hers.

He looks at you like you’re crème brûlée.