Colt: MC Biker Romance
I know his type. The leather cut, the swirling ink over hard muscles, the swagger in his step and smolder in his eyes that sends heat zinging through my core. I swore I was done with bad boys and danger junkies.
People say I’m shameless. They’re right. I like my sex dirty. It takes a hell of a lot to tilt my moral compass, and I always follow when it’s pointing at something I want. That goes double when it points straight at the one girl in all of Chicago who’s not dying for a piece of me.
Knocked Up by the CEO
I can’t have kids. I’ve been poked and prodded, tested, re-tested, and ultimately heartbroken when one doctor after another shook their head and said that ugly word: infertile. It’s just a fact of life. I can’t have kids. That’s what I’ve always believed, at least, until one wild night at the office Christmas party changes everything.