To Hate Adam Connor

What makes Adam Connor, you may wonder? He's the Academy Award-winning actor who just got divorced and moved in next door with his child. He's also the most annoyingly cunning guy I've ever encountered, not to mention a magnificent specimen of a man.

To be honest, don't you think it would be fun to look over the wall to see him, ideally in his undies? Observing him work out as his five-year-old child encouraged him would make anybody melt. I mean, those abs, that massive bulge in his trousers, that arm porn—do I really need to say more? Wait, so you wouldn't ever bug him? Yes.

After a little incident, he had me put in prison, even though I was being considerate and not breaking and entering. I was even thinking about coming over to lend him a shoulder to cry on, or maybe a breast or two. Prison, folks! Not a prison cell, but an endless supply of orgasms was what I expected in return from him.

I was planning how to choke him instead of climbing his bones to make beautiful love after that day. So what if when he muttered nasty little things in my ear, my body did anything more than shiver? That is not something I am accountable for. In any case, when was the last time he had kissed someone? Who wouldn't love a kiss that came with a heart attack?

I'm not claiming he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, but even if he and his kid were, I couldn't help but fall in love. My curse prevented us from being together, no matter how many promises he murmured on my skin. Though I knew I could rescue myself, thank you very much, I secretly hoped Adam Connor would end up becoming the protagonist of my narrative.

*Readers under the age of 18 should not read this book due to harsh language and sexual material.