The first and last one-night stand I had ended with zero orgasms for me and my wallet gone.
I fell asleep after the man who called himself Kent rolled off of me and out of my life.
The only thing he left behind was a business card on the floor next to the bed.
Griffin Kent. Attorney at Law.
Since I don’t know a soul in New York, I head straight to the jerk’s office on Madison Avenue to get back my wallet and reclaim my pride.
I’m not prepared for what happens when I arrive at the prestigious law firm of Kent & Colt.
I doubt that the real Griffin Kent would leave a woman unsatisfied in any way. He’s tall, dark haired and dangerously handsome. He’s also the complete opposite of the imposter I spent the night with.
The arrogant attorney orders his assistant to help me, but he’s the one who enrolls in the art class I came to Manhattan to teach.
He may be my student, but something tells me that Griffin is going to be schooling me in the art of seduction.

Author’s Note: This sexy standalone novel contains a dirty talking attorney, nude male models and a touching HEA. Although some characters from my previous books appear in BARE, you don’t have to read any of my other books to enjoy this breathtaking romance.

Dear Diary,

I lucked out this morning in a BIG way.

Dr. Hawthorne left his apartment just as the elevator was about to leave our floor.

Bonus fantasy points for the fact that he was talking on his phone as he sprinted toward me. Technically, he was racing to catch the elevator, but I was standing front and center in it.

Whenever I hear him speak it’s like liquid pleasure in the middle of an orgasm drought.

The velvety rasp in his voice was the cherry on top of the visual delight I was witness to.

Dr. H was on his way out for a run, so it was no shirt, muscles for days, tattoos, and my imagination running circles around his half-naked body.

As always, he didn’t even glance in my direction, but a virgin can dream, right?

-F.U.



That’s just one of the many entries in the diary I found last night.
It belongs to the woman who lives across the hall from me.
Faith Upton.
The pink-haired beauty has no idea that I’ve read every single word she wrote about me in that diary.
The right thing to do is to forget what I read, slam the diary shut, and return it.
But, there’s no way in hell I’m doing the right thing.