8th novel in the PLAIN JANE SERIES



“You use sex like a bludgeon.” 

A wealth of emotions flashed across her face; none he could pin down. “Yeah and?” 

A red tint flushed under her brown skin. Was that steam curling from her ears? Then she smiled as if she had an epiphany. She spat and folded her arms beneath her ample breasts. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Men have done the same since we walked out of the muck. Now that I’ve returned the favor and done it better, it’s bad. Wow!” 

She slapped the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I get it. You growl, ‘You’re mine’, in the heat of passion and you think that’s it! I’ve got her. She’s been claimed.” The smile slid from her face. “That shit may work with the Leila’s of the world, but baby, no.” She waved a finger in front of his face. “Three signs a man isn’t truly interested in you. He doesn’t call. Doesn’t text. Doesn’t initiate.” She ticked off each item with her fingers. 

“I explained—” 

“Two signs he’s in it for the sex and nothing else.” She cut him off. “You only see him when it’s convenient for him. And he doesn’t include you. In anything. Not his life. Not his schedule. Not even his thoughts.” 


“He doesn’t even acknowledge you,” she shouted over him. “Until another man is in her face.” 

His sharp reply withered on his tongue. From the outside looking in, everything she said was true, and wrong. She invaded his thoughts night and day, and there wasn’t a moment when he didn’t miss her, want her. It took all his effort to compartmentalize and focus on the task. Something he easily did. Until Nevaeh. 

“So no, Bruno. I’m not yours and you’re not mine. And this.” She pointed to the bed with the scent of sex clinging to the messy sheets. “Will never happen again. Now, move.” 



Two alpha A-type personalities should never be in a relationship. Good thing because Bruno and Nevaeh want nothing to do with each other… Until a friend’s wedding changes everything.

No biggie. Sex between consenting adults with no expectations of anything deeper is perfectly fine. As long as it never happens again.

But it does happen again.

And again.

And again.

No post-coitus cuddles and no strings attached. It’s the perfect arrangement for two people who have no intention of falling in love.

When one of them catches feelings and breaks the rules, the strings attaching them are suddenly steel cables.

There’s a thin line between love, hate, and obsession. And no line when you succumb to all three. It’ll never work. So, one of them has got to go. Who will it be? The mob enforcer with everything to lose? Or the chick with no filter who’s lost everything and has nothing left except vengeance.



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