Alexis Watson has been dreaming of university her entire high school career. Despite pressure from her parents to find a 'real' career, she's excited for her History of Music class and proving she can make it on her own. Then she meets her Resident Coordinator and bad boy Ian Crawford, and her world is turned upside down. Ian is charming and gorgeous. Unfortunately he's also infuriating and arrogant. When Alexis unknowingly attends a risqué party, Ian shows up to protect her—only his intentions aren't as noble as he thinks.
This is the first novella installment in the Ian Crawford Series.
I had to get the hell out of that house.
“Well, well,” a familiar voice said behind me. “This is the last place I’d expect to see you.”
No way. It can’t be.
I whipped around to see Ian in the doorway to the study. He looked casual as usual, leaning a forearm against the doorjamb and wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. The position of his arm above his head caused his shirt to pull taut across his strong stomach. His gaze moved lazily around the room, landing on the spanking scene on the couch for only a second as if he’d seen it all before. As his eyes returned to me, he smiled as if I was the real treat.
“Though you certainly look the part. Fuck.”
I moved to cross my arms but stopped myself. Instead, I took a swig of my beer for confidence.
“And here I thought you were a good girl.” He dropped his arm and edged closer, and I didn’t back away.
“Melissa brought me.”
“Let me guess—you thought it was a schoolgirl/Tom Cruise kind of party.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s a whole lot dirtier than that.”
“I figured that out, thanks. What are you doing here?”
His lips turned up in a smirk as he looked at the couple on the couch again. “I got a very interesting text from a friend of mine. Said I wouldn’t believe who was here.” His bright green eyes fell on me. “I figured you were either holding out on me or didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into, and I should come save you.”
I glared at him. “I’m fine.”
“You stick out like a sore thumb. Want me to help you out?” From behind his back he produced a paddle, stroked it almost lovingly. “He’s been saving himself for you.”