The Perfect Recipe For Love: One imprisoned Mafia Don, Two spoonfuls of Sexiness, A pinch of Cockiness, And a pair of Handcuffs. All served with a healthy side of Sex.

"You want me to be a genius or do you want me to fuck you?" • • • The Alexandrettia is the finest school in the state, known for producing the smartest, and most talented kids in America. 21 year old keen painter Mia Hanson managed to get a spot. She worked her whole life to get inside, to see the hallowed halls her biggest idols once walked through. But those very same halls gets vandalized one wild night, and the person responsible gets sentenced to do community service, working as a janitor to clean up his mess. With his brooding eyes, filthy mouth and body covered up in ink, Eli the type of guy you run away from; The type who only lives for the trouble; The type you just know packs a brain the size of a peanut. But when one of Fermat's biggest unsolved mathematical problems gets solved by an unknown source, rumors start as to who and where this genius might be... Well: Three guesses who?

"Guns and sex... that's what you are." • • • Rya Wilkins is a top trained agent, working under the orders of the president of USA. Her job involves brutal interrogations, dangerous undercover CIA work, and killing people who pose a threat to their nation. - And a threat like that just so happens to come in the form of a lethal and dangerously handsome Italian agent, who managed to break into the CIA and steal confidential information. It is now Rya's job to retrieve that information and stop the goddamn mischievous, sexy, son of a-I'm-going-to-make-your-body-explode-in-more-ways-than-one agent and bring him into custody. But there's a thin line between hatred and love - and that line turns out to be Rya's thong.

[This is a spin-off of The DILF but can be read as a stand-alone] [The story you are about to read is intended for readers age 18+ due to its sexual content and language. It may not be appropriate for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion.] There was nothing Ophelia wanted better than to gouge Nikolai's long-lashed, consuming blue eyes out with a butter knife and mail them to the rest of the Alvonich family. Too bad they were in a very public, very esteemed place - Mikhail's wedding. "You don't think I'll press the button?" Nikolai's breath was warm and teasing in her ear. Ophelia had no idea what possessed her to take up his challenge of a vibrating thong, except that it was too late to back out now. She turned to glance at the infuriating man beside her. "Honestly, I don't care. It won't affect me." "Sweet Ophelia," he whispered, surprising her by flicking his tongue into her ear. Jumping, she glared at him, ignoring the important guests at her table, her father included. Before she could curse at Nikolai, he pressed the button, the swearwords turning to soft moans under her breath. Gripping the edge of the table, Ophelia felt the attack on her cl!t like a burn to her skin. Her father shot her a concerned look from across the table and Nikolai's voice was again in her ear. "Before the end of the night, Ophelia, we will f**k," he promised, releasing his finger from the remote control. "Only this time, it will be my name you scream."