検索キーワード： 著者 "J.R. Gray" すべてのカテゴリー

Amy’s life is a series of bad luck mixed with worse decisions. One of those bad decisions was homicide detective Ben. He is sexy, stern, and everything she could ever want, but her past forces her out of his bed and from his life. That is, until she finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, she has no choice but to submit to his presence in her life. Will she accept Ben’s protection and open herself up to his love, or will she allow the walls she has built around her heart to force Ben out of her life, for good, this time?

I survive on avoidance. Physical pain to avoid the mental. Disposable flesh to avoid relationships. Work to avoid attachment. My club became my empire of avoidance. Inside the ring millions are won and lost. The fight is confined to breaths, actions and reactions, fists and pain. Rules don’t exist. Only my opponent exists.

First day of college, everyone is settling into their rooms, and in walks Jeff Woods—the blond bastard. He’s arrogant, smart and an elite swimmer. Worst of all, everyone loves him. Only, he’s also insufferable, flirty, and a sex god. He pushes every button I never knew I had—all with an air of indifference—like he doesn’t know the effect it has on me. Did I mention he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on?

I never thought I'd go to college a virgin, but unless something changes—and fast—that's what's going to happen. In comes Harden Hart, my all-American boy-next-door best friend with an offer to help in a way I'd never imagined. The boy, who turned everything he touched to gold, had a filthy side to him I'd never seen. Oh, and did I mention he's straight?

My soul mate is my natural enemy. Or close enough. He's a vampire and I'm a wolf. Our kinds are at war. A centuries-old blood war. I can't stay away from him. I hate him, but I want him. Our love is a standoff. For every inch I take, he pushes a mile.

A guy in a skirt wouldn't turn a straight guy on, right? I spent the last decade performing next to him. I've never looked at him as more—until I walked in on him in a skirt. He's as broken as I am. We survived our childhood together. And when he's finally trying to embrace the parts his father tried to beat out of him, I can't handle it. He's taunting me with smeared eyeliner and a filthy smile, singing to a sold-out crowd, and it's getting too hot under these stage lights. I can't look him in the eyes. I can't be with him—not like that—but I can't stop thinking about him.