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To Hate Adam Connor

So you may ask, who is Adam Connor? He is the recently divorced, Academy Award–winning actor who just moved in next door with his kid. He also happens to be an exquisite male specimen and the most infuriating sly bastard I've ever come across.

While I was being thoughtful by not breaking and entering and was actually considering going over to offer him a shoulder to cry on (you know, because of his divorce), instead he had me thrown in jail after a small incident. Jail, people! He was supposed to grant me countless orgasms as a thank you, not a jail cell.

After that day, I was mentally plotting ways to strangle him. So what if my body did more than just shiver when he whispered dirty little things in my ear? I can't be held responsible for that.

Even if he and his son were the best things since sliced bread, I couldn't fall for him. No matter what promises he whispered on my skin, my curse wouldn't let us be. I wasn't a damsel in distress—I could save myself, thank you very much—but deep inside, I still hoped Adam Connor would be the hero of my story.

Contains mature themes.

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