Friction

I’m the guy you call when you need to impress your overbearing family, your boss, or your ex. Yeah, I’m a male escort, but not just any escort, I’m the escort. The one with a mile-long waiting list and a pristine reputation that’s very well-deserved. I’m the guy who’ll make you feel beautiful, desired, and worshipped...all for a steep price. I’m hired to make you shine, and I always deliver. I’ll be whatever you want me to be for one night - except my true self. This is just a job, a role I play to earn a paycheck. But I’m not the guy who falls for a client.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.... I wasn't supposed to be boyfriendless, homeless, and jobless at 28. And I most definitely wasn't supposed to hit Hollywood's resident bad boy Gabriel Evans with my car and break his foot. Now I'm stuck in his apartment, taking care of him while he's incapacitated. Living with the hottest guy in Hollywood, who I've had a crush on forever, doesn't sound like a chore, right? Wrong. Gabriel Evans is rude and crude and drinks way too much, and as soon as his foot is healed I'm out of here. So why do I keep forgetting to check the classifieds?

Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning. I was late for the first day at my new job - a job I’d now have to compete for, even though I’d already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger. While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons. She’d ticketed a long line of cars - except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine. Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine.

My best friend, Natalie, has been by my side through everything. Leaning on my shoulder, borrowing my sweatshirts…and making my pants too tight when she flashes me that sassy smile that drives me crazy. But she has no idea about that last part. She doesn't have a clue I've felt this way about her for years. Until one night after too many cocktails, we fall into bed together. I'm flirting with my forever…she just doesn't know it yet. 

How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons: Snag a gorgeous rental on the beach. Check. Get a job at a trendy summer haunt. Check. How to screw up a great summer in the Hamptons: Fall for the one guy with a dark leather jacket, scruff on his face, and intense eyes that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the tony-looking crowd. A guy you can’t have when you’ll be leaving at the end of the season. Check. Check. Check. 

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress. Something blue. I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.” Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true. The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there.

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god. 

New Orleans belongs to me. You don't know my name, but I control everything you see - and all the things you don't. My reach knows no bounds, and my demands are always met. I didn't need to loan money to a failing family distillery, but it amuses me to have them in my debt. To have her in my debt. She doesn't know she caught my attention. She should've been more careful. I'm going to own her. Consume her. Maybe even keep her. It's time to collect what I'm owed.

I'm naturally gifted on the field and between the sheets. With flashy cars and enough media attention to put the royal family to shame, I'm the definition of most eligible bachelor. Every man wants to be me, and every woman wants to tame me. Until Camila. The moment I lay eyes on her, I know I have to have her. She wants to keep me at arm's length. I want her naked in my bed. She says I'm bad news. I have three weeks to prove her wrong.

Life is smooth sailing until these new roomies find themselves stuck between a rock and a very hard place. Because lusting after the one person you shouldn't ever mess around with - your new roommate - is like cardinal rule number one. Get ready for four complete friends-to-lovers rom-com standalones: The Room Mate, The Play Mate, The House Mate, and The Soul Mate.

When college freshman Rowan Michaels meets gorgeous, up-and-coming rock star Adam Everest, she knows a player like him is the last thing she needs after her ex-boyfriend shattered her heart. But she can't stop thinking about the kiss they shared on his tour bus. On the first day of school, Rowan is stunned when Adam saunters into her French class. He's soon failing miserably, and, on a whim, she offers to tutor him. But Adam doesn't recognize her as a makeup-free, glasses-clad college student.

The minute he opened his sexy mouth, Holliday Hughes should have known Jack Dalton was trouble. His smooth pickup lines, broad shoulders, and ridiculously handsome face charmed her right out of her clothes. She gave into her desires, the instant attraction blinding her to the obvious.

An Irish mobster. A missing friend. Two loyalties, ripping me apart. I had a plan. Get in, get my information, and get out. Easy, right? Turns out, infiltrating the Irish mafia isn't exactly what I thought it would be. I just wanted a soldier. Someone I could flirt with to get me in the door. That's when Lachlan Crow noticed me. Problem was, he wasn't a soldier. No, he was next in line for the throne of the Irish underworld. And he was determined to hate me from the outset.

There’s a fine line between lust and hate. I don’t care that Drew Merritt spent the last year transforming himself from grungy slob to sexy playboy. With messy, dirty blond hair and gorgeous eyes, his looks aren’t the problem. His mouth is. And the stupid things that come out of it. But after an emergency strands us together, and he does his damnedest to take care of me.... Let’s just say there’s one thing we don’t clash on. And it doesn’t involve talking. 

As the VP of Kings of Retribution MC, I live and breathe club life. After suffering the loss of two women in my life, I grew cold and indifferent to the idea of love. I don't need to let anyone in. I've seen the aftermath it can leave in its quake. The last thing I'm looking for is someone to fill the void, until Bella Jameson.