Rule Number One: Never let anyone get too close…
Weston Wyndham has more money on his tattooed wrist than I’ll ever have in my bank account.
Drunk, he was gorgeous, wicked, sexy, an inked god.
Sober, he is the most arrogant man ever.
Will I let him order me around like one of his servants? Hell no. He’s out of his mind if he thinks I’ll ever go out with him. I don’t care how rich he is, or that he drives that Ferrari or a fancy truck.
My walls are there for a reason … and they were built to last.
But he’s relentless, hot, and it turns out he likes his girls a little feisty.
Giving in doesn’t have to mean disaster—unless I break my number one rule.
Special O’Malley is a handful. With a name like that, she ought to be. Sassy as hell, bossing me around, but damn if I don’t deserve it.
My money usually attracts women … let’s me have my way with them. Not Special. She doesn’t give a damn about it … or me.
But there’s more than one stubborn player in this game. I’m not giving up any time soon … at least not until I’m between her thighs, making her moan. And those concrete walls of hers … I have news for her. Concrete crumbles when you strike at the right place.