She should be painted on a ceiling somewhere.

Jemima Jane Erickson was one drunken pass away from jumping Ethan Weston’s bones. He just didn’t know it.

Ivy just had to look at him to know that Dean Bennet would never look at her. He was the kind of guy who dated flamenco dancers or famous actresses or multi-lingual international human rights lawyers. Not sheltered little daddy’s girls who could barely look at him without turning red.

Not even an advancing All Blacks haka could have dragged him away from the swing of her ass.

If you think I haven’t been fantasising about your mouth around my cock, then you’re crazy.

Is this okay?”Dex blinked. Okay? She couldn’t have been any moreokay had she been dipped in marshmallow and rolled in coconut.

The man looked hot in his jersey, sexy as hell in a pair ofjeans and goddamn mouth-watering in nothing but his tan. In a business suit? He looked utterly fuckable.

Stay the night, don’t stay the night. I’m not going to read anything into it, okay? If you want to hang out, then I’m around. Your call. I’m not going to boil your pet bunny or tell Facebook you have a small dick, I promise.

My name on your lips as you come is the sexiest thingI’ve ever heard.

Hold on, baby.” He slid his hands under her ass before rising to his feet. Harper gave a little squeal as she held tight. “I’m going to make you come so hard you’re going to want to name a day of the week after me.