Will our bond be strong enough to withstand the pain and ruin that awaits us? Kidnapped by the Tailors, a rival gang that wants my family wiped off the face of the earth, I find myself regretting every life choice that led me to their dungeon. But then four men walk into my life, each stealing a piece of my heart, demanding a share of my body. Aeron, the heir to the Tailor name and a dark devil. Jude, second in line and mad as a box of frogs but sexy as hell. Knox, a tall glass of water with the need to rescue and protect.

Macon is the oldest. Thirty-one. Ex-Marine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Army is twenty-eight. A single dad with the most beautiful green eyes. He has no idea who he is, if not a Jaeger brother. Iron will be in prison soon. You’d never think it to meet him. He’s a nice guy, actually. But he can’t stop reacting to everything. Dallas is the one I hate. Twenty-one, cruel, and selfish. He takes and then throws away whatever’s left. And Trace is mine. Or he was for about two seconds. No one can tame him for long. Not that I ever wanted to.

The rabbit's foot sways in the car, a bad omen that I choose to ignore. Her innocent face and offer for a ride are too tempting. Little does she know that I'm a dangerous man on the run, a sociopath with a thirst for the thrill of the hunt. Selena is my rabbit, and I'm about to ensnare her in my trap. As we speed toward the border, emotions I thought I was incapable of stir within me. What will happen when we reach our destination? Will I let her go, or will I keep her by my side forever? The game has just begun, rabbit.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

When you've been told your whole life that something is sinful, you have two options. Avoid it like the plague, like it has the power to destroy all that is good and pure. Or become as fixated upon it as Eve was upon that apple. I'm sick of the push-pull of terror and temptation. It's tearing me apart. I just want a bite of the apple. More than a bite. I want to devour it. Have its juices spill from my lips. And by apple, I, of course, mean sex.