Daphne, Chapter One My heart stopped when I heard my favorite sound. Holy crap. I'd never forget the voice of my hero. Especially when said noise zinged a direct hit to the spot between my legs. What the hell was he doing in Chapman’s Bookery? Antonio Drago was never a bookworm. Far from it. He was the object of my fantasies from sophomore to senior year of high school. I had no business thinking dirty thoughts about a guy ten years older than me, but try to tell that to m

Savanna “How the heck did you end up on the floor so fast?“ my Auntie asked. It happened in a flash, and in that blink of an eye, I surmised that like still waters, Dante was a man dark and unplumbed depths. So why didn't he scare me? Nearly every man I'd met, since Mathew became a delusional, hard-up lunatic, frightened the piss out of me. I tried to wipe the grin that wanted to drape itself across my features off of my face. Just one encounter with the beefy construction du

Dante “Just don't flex too hard if you like that shirt.” My cousin Carlos remarked as we got dressed at the gym that morning. “Funny.” I had to say the word. It wasn't possible for my face to form an expression of amusement, or for my lips to curve into a smile. My features had turned to stone on that day the cops came to my construction site and delivered news that shoved my heart so far beneath the ice it hadn’t yet defrosted. So yeah, fuck it. Carrot cake. For the first ti