Wrong Bed, Right Roommate

It's not every day you wake up to a stranger getting into your bed. Only, he isn't a stranger at all, he's my best friend's hot older brother . . . and apparently my new roommate. Having him in my space, driving me crazy, isn't a problem at all. Nope. All I need to do is keep control of the situation . . .

But that's easier said than done. Shawn Lassiter is the kind of distraction I don't need. First he accidentally gets into my bed, half naked, the night before my first day at my new job. Hello, muscles and tattoos! Then he's there, in nothing but a towel, making me coffee in the morning. It's more than any girl can resist. Right? But Shawn is off-limits, even if his eyes are saying differently.

Years ago, back when I still had my crush, he destroyed friendships with his reckless playboy antics. There's no way I'm touching those perfectly formed abs now. I don't care how nice and responsible he's acting. I don't want a boyfriend anyway. That's what my trusty vibrator is for. I'm the smart girl—the glasses-wearing, book-reading workaholic. I can totally do this. After all, it's only for two and a half months. I'll be on my best behavior . . . even if Shawn isn't.

Contains mature themes.

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Hljóðbók: 7 juni 2022