Charlotte English has been a thorn in my side since the moment she moved in—demanding, defiant, and way too damn tempting. I should ignore her. Hell, I should evict her.
Instead, I’m picturing that attitude pinned beneath me.
She pushes, I push back. She glares, I grin. And now she’s in my space, dripping wet, wrapped in nothing but a towel and trouble.
She thinks she hates me. Maybe she does. But that won’t stop me from making her mine.
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