Wrong Bed, Right Girl

Falling head-first into the wrong woman's bed was not how Reed Bishop's night was supposed to go. Now a gorgeous, half-naked ballet dancer was threatening his manhood . . . with a book. He can't blame her.

It wasn't how it seemed—he was just doing his job, tracking down his lead informant, who, unfortunately, took off, leaving him to figure out what to do with her friend. Staying in her apartment was no longer safe.

And that's how he got himself into this mess.

Now she's sleeping in his bed while he tosses and turns on the couch. There are pink tights in his bathroom. Pointe shoes next to his boots.

He swears he won't touch her like that . . . but he can't ignore his fantasies.

As a tattooed, muscled DEA Agent, Reed's seen some things. Drug dealers, murderers . . . He can't let Talia get close. Even though she's made it clear they're both fighting the same hunger. And he definitely can't use his handcuffs on her . . . no matter how much she begs.

Contains mature themes.

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Hljóðbók: 14 juni 2022