Never trust a man who answers the front door wearing nothing more than a pair of low-cut jeans and a panty-melting smirk.
That should’ve been my first sign.
I write about guys just like him for a living—sexy and charming, yet reluctant to get into a serious relationship. His body screams sex appeal, but his condescending personality makes him a classic fuckboy.
And I want nothing to do with that.
Writing romance novels comes with its perks—traveling, meeting new people, creating characters from the voices in my head—but Ethan Rochester enters my life and rearranges all my preconceived notions about writing what inspires you.
One week is all it took. One week to realize that not everything is as it seems.
One week with the bad boy, and I wanted more.