Jake Matthews has seen me at my worst.
We’re talking me dressed in a chicken-suit, selling fried wings for his family’s restaurant kind of bad--a fact he never lets me forget.
He’s arrogance wrapped up in Hollywood good looks.
A New York City lawyer who owns vintage cars (I’m pretty sure he’s overcompensating), and who takes delight in driving me insane.
I wouldn’t mind punching him in his handsome face. I also wouldn’t mind kissing him, just to shut him up.
And then he sends me a note: “When you bite into a cherry, just know that I’m imagining the same. Your legs over my shoulders. My mouth tasting your sweet heat. Your fingers tugging at my hair. I want you, Claire. But you already know that, don’t you?”
Under all that sex appeal and swagger is a man who won’t stop until he’s left me breathless…