Meet Damian Castillo. The man, the legend, the heartbreaker. The only thing that matters in his world is his "little black book": his large black shoebox filled with hundreds of phone numbers from the nameless women in his life. He knows what he wants: mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex. And as the hottest bartender in San Francisco, he never has a problem getting exactly what he wants when he wants it.

When Penny Taylor runs into a handsome stranger in a coffee shop, she believes her luck has finally changed. After having her confidence unwound by her ex, she falls hard for a true gentleman. But once she realizes that her crush is her communications professor, her world is turned upside down. Haunted by dreams of the alluring Professor Hunter, Penny can't seem to dismiss her fantasies and the temptation to have him grows deeper.

All Sevyn wanted was to finish law school and make her late grandmother proud. She was never the one to color outside the lines or go against the rules. When Sevyn is suddenly faced with past due bills and eviction, she becomes overwhelmed trying to stay above water. Nasir is content in his relationship with his long-term girlfriend. The two of them have an understanding. Inviting another partner in the bedroom has never been an issue—until now. When Sevyn joins the couple for one night of pleasure, Nasir instantly becomes attracted to the innocence surrounding her.

I'm Rhett. I'm cocky because I can be. I've got it all: the looks, the money, the endurance. I'm the guy that every girl wants to be with, yet none of them have ever been able to tie me down. I don't do love. I don't do relationships. And I sure as hell will never do marriage. I'm all about the fast life and everything that entails. There's a different woman in my bed every week. My friends are jealous of me. My enemies envy me. Everyone wants my life. And everything in my life is absolutely perfect. At least, that's what everyone thinks.

This is bad. Very bad. He's rubbing off on me. Resident bad boy Ethan Colton is turning me into an irresponsible bad girl. Rule number two: When I tell you to come here, you come here. It's still an order, still practically growling at me, commanding me to obey him, but it's more, too. It's fun and flirty, a little playful. I can see why girls fall for him, can see why his devious smirk melts their resistance, because it's doing the same to me.

Wrong. Sinful. Taboo. I know I shouldn’t want him. I know I shouldn’t touch myself in the middle of the night as thoughts of him run through my mind. Thoughts of his kiss, his touch, his love. I’d spent years obsessing over the man I thought I couldn’t have. But as it turns out, he wants me too. And he wants me now.

Travis King is the worst kind of a**hole. He taunts me for being a good girl and mocks my high standards. He's cruel, crass, and has enough confidence to last two lifetimes. And I hate him. He's always loved getting under my skin, and one night against my better judgment, I let him in my bed. I've succumbed to his manw**re ways, but that doesn't change a thing. Because the King is about to get played at his own game - and lose.

Nathan wasn't sure why people were so obsessed with dating and sex. Sure it probably felt good, but he just couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about. It might have helped if he knew what he was looking for. But with so many labels and options, he just wasn't sure. It seemed so easy to everyone else, but to him, it felt like something was missing. Gabriel thought Nathan was absolutely perfect. Sweet, funny, sexy, and completely confused about what he desired; but absolutely perfect.

The first time we met was at a party. Your ex arrived to show off the person he'd left you for last month, and you asked me to pretend to be your date. I was more than happy to help. You were attractive, smart and witty--and that kiss we shared? It left me wanting you for days. The second time we met was in my office on campus where we were both surprised to discover you were the new master’s degree student in poetry that I would be working with. You promised to be professional. I did no such thing. The late nights and intense study sessions spent alongside you majorly throw me off my game. I want you, and I fight with myself daily over this fact. I know I'm crass, that my sexual innuendos and dirty mouth annoy you, but I live for those two bright spots of color in your cheeks. If that's the only reaction I can get out of you, I'll gladly take it. You hate Mondays so every Monday I slip an anonymous poem into your bag and your smile gets me through the week. I think I'm falling for you, and I know it's wrong. I know that I'm only supposed to be the adviser to your program and nothing more, but here's the thing. I think you're falling for me too.

Never trust a man who answers the front door wearing nothing more than a pair of low-cut jeans and a panty-melting smirk. That should've been my first sign. I write about guys just like him for a living - sexy and charming, yet reluctant to get into a serious relationship. His body screams sex appeal, but his condescending personality makes him a classic f--kboy. And I want nothing to do with that.