I want him. More than anything. But he's one bad boy.The things he wants. They're carnal, lustful things and I can't get them—or him—out of my mind.Devon Prescott knows how to impose his will.He's a viper in a Brioni handmade suit.Ruthless in the board room, he's even more relentless in the bedroom.He's a freakin' Adonis. It scares me that I want him so much.When I'm with him I feel safe. I feel love. I feel a yearning.He knows that he rocks my world. That he is the stuff of my dreams.So he wants things.Things I'm afraid to give him.He tells me I'm his in the most romantic of terms. That he worships my body.That I must trust him.I don't deny it. Some of the things he wants stir me deep inside.They're sexy and dirty and forbidden.Am I willing to be touched? To be shared?Oh, god.If I give into my dream lover's deepest desires, will I lose myself in the process?

Alright, here’s the deal. Everybody knows somebody whose Facebook relationship status should be ‘Still banging my ex.’ That's not me, though. I’m serious as Donald Trump's hairstylist. I’m not dating him again. I can’t. Really. He’s the biggest investor in my startup. Our affair was short. Intense. *Sensual.* As in sweaty sensual. ???? But that’s over. It’s all business. Really. My tech company is freakin’ taking off. My bestie and partner is counting on me. Gotta a focus. Gotta keep it professional. Can’t get horizontal with a billionaire who looks like Chris Hemsworth … but younger and cuter. (No accent, though. Damn.) Oh, that sculpted tush, those bedroom eyes, the ripply abs. And about those eyes, I’m seeing the hunger in them. For me. Again. OMG! Help. This is going to be a wild ride.