But after a few too many tequila shots one night, I shoot him a text, asking him to be my smut mentor.
As soon as I sober up, I'm MORTIFIED, of course. I try to steal his cell phone and destroy the evidence, only to find I'm too late. Christian has already read my message.
Even worse? He wants no part in helping me ditch my ancient virginity.
That is, unless I agree to a few rules...
1. We never talk about Sex Club.
2. We never get caught by our friends or family.
3. We commit to fulfilling each other's wildest fantasies for one steamy month until he leaves town. No holds barred, no shame, no limits.
I agree without hesitation, confident that I can have a month of earth-shattering nookie and walk away without a broken heart.
But the more time I spend in the sack with this wild, funny, secretly tender man, the more I fear I'll break the biggest rule of all--Never Fall for Mr. Off Limits.