The only belt notch I’m thinking of is mine coming undone so I can take Rylee beneath me and hear that oh God fall from her mouth. My head fills of lace-top thigh-highs, her smart-assed mouth, and violet eyes filled with contempt. Two of the three should turn me off but fuck if it doesn’t make my dick jerk thinking of the whole fucking package.

“Nobody.” I lie to protect myself from the one thing I fear the most.

That Rylee just might be the somebody I told myself I’ll never allow myself to have.

She’s a forever kind of girl and I’m a just for the night kind of guy.

But fuck if it’s not going to be fun to see just how far we’ll each bend to break our own rules.


The Merit Rum launch party. Need I say more? A long-standing request from readers is what was Colton thinking that night? The following is Chapter Eleven from the moment Colton saw Rylee with Surfer Joe snuggling up against her until he asked her that now familiar line: “Decide, Rylee. Yes. Or. No.”