Sinclair Amadeus Sterling, a.k.a. Mr. Superior Jackass with a God complex. Who also happens to be my blackmailer...gulp. Tall, dark, gazillionaire growly pants. The first time I met him, I kneed him in his very well endowed balls - don't ask! He had that tightly leashed, controlling air and a smoldering glare that made me damp in seconds. The only thing that sucks worse than his attitude is his (lack of) sense of humor! Honest. Sadly, he's also the one who could save my business from going bust. Hell! 

The minute Josh Faraday meets feisty, vivacious Kat Morgan, he wants her. Not for a relationship, of course. He doesn’t do those. He wants her in his bed. But, to his shock and extreme frustration, Kat won’t play by Josh’s rules like all the others. No, this stubborn woman declares she won't so much as kiss Josh until he divulges some highly personal information.... But it's something Josh has never told anyone, and won't be telling Kat. Not over his dead body, no matter how gorgeous and sexy she is.

Boss rule number one: Never sleep with your employee. Apparently, rules aren’t my thing. Because the moment I wake up naked next to my hot-as-hell new employee, I want to go for round two. I'm not exactly Prince Charming. Some call me The Wolf. I don’t do love, and I sure as hell don’t do forever. But one look at her, and I become a one-woman man. She has a British accent and a car that won’t start. I’m in a rush, so I do what I need to do and send her on her way - sure I’ll never see her again. Then she shows up at my company to interview for a new position.

When the invitation arrived, it detailed the rules of the masquerade - no names, no identities. I set one more - find a most wicked man for one night. The kind who'll bring me deliciously naughty pleasure in dark corners. But as the clock ticks to midnight, he finds me, whisks me away to a secret alcove, and delivers all that dirty bliss and then some. We make arrangements for another secret rendezvous before I rush out of the ball. But fate has other plans, since I see my most wicked man the next morning. 

Finn O’Grady is the Devil in a custom suit. Not even God will deny a man like him. I'm certainly not God. I'm just a woman he's set his sights on. One he’ll never relinquish. His idea of being ‘kind’ is to give me two options. One: destroy the reputation of a man I love. Two: bed him and he’ll forget about what he knows. One night only. He doesn't know I'm a virgin. And when he finds out? One night isn't enough. Not for him, and not for me. 

Eve Miller is out of options. Between rent, and her sister's medical debts, she's drowning. She needs money, now, and she only has one card left to play. Her virginity. Ian Hunt has specific tastes. The feisty student is perfect. He has to have her. His offer is simple. Six figures. Thirty days. Him introducing her to every kind of pleasure. The British businessman is richer than sin and hotter than hell. He can have any woman he wants. Why her? And why is she desperate to fulfill his every desire?

Cruel. Coldblooded. Hades in a Brioni suit. Cillian Fitzpatrick has been dubbed every wicked thing on planet earth. To the media, he is The Villain. To me, he is the man who (reluctantly) saved my life. Now I need him to do me another small solid. Bail me out of the mess my husband got me into. What’s a hundred grand to one of the wealthiest men in America, anyway? Only Cillian doesn’t hand out free favors. The price for the money, it turns out, is my freedom.

Working for a hotel heiress and social media influencer may not be my dream job, but at least it allows me time to do what I really love — take photographs. Pretty good for a wholesome farm girl from Kansas trying to make it in Boston. Life may not be easy working for a diva, but at least I know what to expect. Until blue-collar billionaire Braden Black strides into the office.

The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar. Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day - when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather.  

Reed freaking Rivers. I wouldn’t trust a word out of the arrogant music mogul’s mouth if his gold-plated tongue were notarized. The man with the Midas touch would say anything to get me into his bed, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him to succeed. Indeed, the moment I laid eyes on Reed while he was speaking at an on-campus event I’d crashed, my body physically ached to feel his golden fingers - and tongue - all over me.

I’ve finally got feisty Georgina right where I want her. In my bed. In my swimming pool. Strapped into the kinky swing hanging in my home gym. And through it all, Georgina’s clearly becoming more and more physically addicted to me. A junkie in constant need of her next fix. Exactly according to plan. But, to my shock, I’m beginning to think she’s not the only addict here. Any more than she’s the only liar. In fact, as crazy as it sounds, this fiery, relentless woman has been breaking down my walls. 

Célian Laurent. Manhattan royalty. Notorious playboy. Heir to a media empire...and my new boss. I could have impressed him, if not for last month's unforgettable one-night stand. I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory - namely, his wallet. Now he's staring me down like I'm the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I'm supposed to take it. But the thing about being Judith "Jude" Humphry is I have nothing to lose. Brooklyn girl. Infamously quirky. Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch. 

Lonnie Derringer is a filthy-mouthed, dirty-talking, long-distance fling. (That's been going on for two years.) I know, I know. That's not a fling. This might be getting serious. I look forward to our quickie lunch dates and the way he whispers in my ear every night from 2,000 miles away. He's the best boyfriend I never had. Until I find out his name isn't Lonnie, it's Alonzo. Until I find out he's not some boring accountant with a dead-end job, he's a six-foot-four, yoked-out, tatted-up fisherman who never wears a shirt!

Stefan Sabbioni showed up uninvited in my bedroom on my 16th birthday. He stood in the shadows, smelling of whiskey and death and wrapped a broken, blood-crusted necklace around my neck. I thought he’d strangle me with it. That night, he left a message for my father. He said he’d be back to take something precious. I never delivered that message, though. I wonder if things would be different if I had because now, two years later, he’s back. And he’s not hiding in any shadows.

We're a match made in hell, Stefan and I. He took me to exact his revenge. I went from being a pawn to my father to being a pawn to Stefan. The only difference is I have a ring the size of a boulder on my finger and a husband I don't want. And the hardest part is I thought he was different. I thought I was falling in love. I guess my father was right. I'm not a very smart girl. Stefan is a powerful man. He doesn't play nice, not if you're his enemy. But I've learned one thing about my husband.