I hate him… I hate that I fell in love with him, I hate that he didn’t love me back, and I hate the fact that I just made a life-altering decision just so I could get the hell away from him. He’d always said that he was unchangeable, heartless, and cold… I really should’ve believed him…

Just friends. We’re just friends. No, really. She’s just my best friend... * Arizona Turner has been my best friend since fourth grade, even when we “hated” each other. We’ve been there for one another through first kisses, first “times,” and we’ve been each other’s constant when good relationships turned bad. (We even went to colleges that were minutes away from each other…) Throughout the years, and despite what anyone says, we’ve never crossed the line. Never thought about it. Never wanted to. Until one night changed everything. At least, it * should’ve ** ... Just friends. We’re just friends. I’m only saying this until I figure out if she’s still “just” my best friend… **

"Lean back on the table and spread your legs for me..." Being a doctor in New York City has never been easy. Especially for someone like me who has a private practice and an incompetent staff who insists on leaving me to fill in for them. Over the past six months, I've performed one too many pap smears, three too many "breast exams," and scrubbed in on several reconstructive surgeries. (This would be acceptable if I was still interested in general medicine, but I'm not. I'm supposed to be a goddamn therapist...) When my team finally came to their senses and decided to bring someone more competent into the practice last month, I was actually elated. Until I realized that our new "doctor" was none other than the woman I was supposed to meet over dinner two weeks ago. The same woman who stood me up with nothing more than an "I can't meet you anymore, sorry," after we agreed to move our online talks into reality. I haven't forgotten any of the filthy fantasies she told me about, and I never deleted our dirty messages. And if she thinks that I'm going to act like a "professional" and pretend like that shit never happened, she has another thing coming...

She lied to me... She betrayed the one rule that I'm most adamant about: Honesty. Complete and utter fucking honesty. I really wish she was someone else—someone who didn't have the ability to make me feel, someone I could easily discard like the hundreds of women before her. She isn't. I'm drawn to her like I've never been drawn to a woman before—completely captivated by the very sight of her. But unfortunately, with my past slowly re-surfacing for all of the world to see, I'll have to find a way to let her go. She can never be mine.

* Alpha males, sassy heroines, and steamy sex have never been better... * Naughty, Dirty, Cocky is complete the first volume of the New York Times bestselling 'Steamy Coffee Reads Collection' from Whitney G. Stay after hours with the Naughty Boss, be sure to get checked out by the Dirty Doctor, and make sure you're prepared to work both inside and outside the bedroom with the Cocky Client. Each novella is a standalone that features an alpha hero, feisty heroine, and toe curling sex. (They are also best devoured over a steamy hot cup of coffee)

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer... I've hated Rachel Dawson since I was seven years old. My next door neighbor and number one sworn enemy, she's the reason why almost all of our childhood fights ended with me setting something of hers on fire. (Or, vice versa.) She snitched on me when I broke curfew. I snitched on her when she lied about having a boyfriend. We went back and forth like this throughout high school, both vowing to never talk to each other again when we went off to college. But that was until she showed up at my apartment during my senior year and asked me for a temporary place to stay. Until I realized just how much between us had changed, and the line I thought we'd never cross became harder and harder to ignore... *This is a standalone friends (to enemies) to lovers romance*

My cock has an appetite. A * huge * and * very particular * appetite: Blonde, curvy, and preferably not a fucking liar... (Although, that's a story for another day.) As a high profile lawyer, I don't have time to waste on relationships, so I fulfill my needs by anonymously chatting and sleeping with women I meet online. My rules are simple: One dinner. One night. No repeats. This is only casual sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. At least it * was *, until "Alyssa"... She was supposed to be a 27 year old lawyer, a book hoarder, and completely unattractive. She was supposed to be someone I shared law advice with late at night, someone I could trust with details of my weekly escapades. But then she came into my firm for an interview—a * college-intern * interview, and everything fucking changed...

He definitely wasn't supposed to get that email... Subject: My Boss. Have I already told you that I hate my boss today? Sexy as hell or not, this pompous, arrogant, ASSHOLE asked me to pick up his dry cleaning the second I walked through the door. Then he told me that I needed to take his Jaguar to a car wash that was ten miles outside of the city, but only after I needed to stand in a never-ending line to buy some type of limited, hundred-dollar watch. I honestly can't wait to see the look on his face two months from now when I tell him that I'm quitting his company and that he can kiss my ass. KISS. MY. ASS. All those former fantasies about him kissing me with his "mouth of perfection" or bending me over my desk and filling me with his cock are long over. OVER. Your bestie, Mya PS--Please tell me your day is going better than mine... Subject: Re: My Boss. No, you haven't already told me that you hate your boss today, but seeing as though you've sent me this email directly, I know now... Yes, I did ask you to pick up my dry cleaning the second you arrived to work to day. (Where is it?) And I did tell you to take my Jaguar to the car wash and pick up my thousand-dollar watch. (Thank you for taking five hours to do something that could be accomplished in two.) You don't have to wait two months from now to see the look on my face when you tell me you're quitting. I'm standing outside your office at this very moment. ( Open the door. ) No comment on your "fantasies," although I highly doubt they're "long over." Your boss, Michael PS--Yes. My day is definitely going far better than yours... A steamy, office-romance novella from New York Times bestselling author, Whitney G. *

Subject: Delete this message after you read it ...Dear Hayley,I'm assuming you're still hungover, so I'll make this brief.Last night, you slipped under my sheets (without my permission), and we almost had sex. I got the hell out of the bed once I realized it was you, and I took you home.That's the story.The end.Period.Just in case you've forgotten, you're my best friend's little sister. We will never be anything more. (We can't be anything more.) Our previous friendship is still unresolved—or "over" in your terms, so I'd prefer if we worked on becoming 'just friends' again since you're in town.Nonetheless, I'm not a man who leaves questions unanswered—even the drunken ones, so to properly close our inappropriate conversation:1) Yes, I liked the way your lips felt against mine when you were on top of me.
2) Yes, I do "prefer" rough sex, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't rough with you.
3) No, I had no idea you were still a virgin ...This message never happened,Corey

All I wanted for my 30th birthday was an epic night to remember…Instead, I got knocked up by my boss. Okay, wait. Before you start judging me (I can see you), I didn’t know he was my boss at the time. All I knew was that he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life, complete with a deep British accent and lips that owned me for hours in bed. Yet, when he ASSumed he was getting a second round after insulting my “cracker box” apartment, I kicked him out, hoping I’d never see him again. Until four weeks later… That’s when I realized I was ‘late,’ when twenty different pregnancy tests revealed a truth I didn’t want to believe. And just when I thought I’d have to spend another four weeks searching for him, he waltzed through the company’s doors, and my supervisor announced that he was our new CEO. That’s not even the worst part about this situation, though. Not even close. Turns out, this man was harboring a secret on the night we first met, and the next eight months were about to get far more complicated than I could ever imagine… ‘Definitely Not Him’ is a sexy, standalone ‘single at 30’ story.

I don't care which city. I don't care which flight. I just need to get the hell out of here... Paris Weston is tired of all the broken promises her boyfriend has given her over the years. Instead of showing up to their ‘secret’ engagement party, she shows up to the airport—ready and willing to go wherever the next flight is bound. Determined to get away and start again, she's certain that a week or two away will solve all of her problems. Until she never makes it to her final destination. Until the sexy, dirty-mouthed stranger who sits next to her on the plane changes everything. Until the unintended layover leaves her never wanting to go back home.