Darby Quinn has a bone to pick with Cinderella. Burned one too many times by ex-boyfriends, Darby has lost all belief in the happily-ever-after that the fairy-tale princess promised her. She's sworn off love, Prince Charmings, and happy endings and she's happy about it. Really. Or at least she was…until she met Jake, her gorgeous neighbor and the manager of her favorite restaurant. But Darby has rules about dating, ones she's culled from her years spent with so-called “princes,” and starting something with Jake would break all of them.
Charming, fun, and unwilling to give up on her, Jake doesn’t fit any of the profiles Darby has created from her case studies of ex-princes-gone-bad. Finally presented with her own Prince Charming, can Darby take a chance on a happily-ever-after?
Full of wit and sarcastic humor, Cinderella Screwed Me Over proves that sometimes the perfect love, like a perfect pair of shoes, is just within your grasp.
Jake put his arm over the back of the couch. His fingers grazed my shoulder, then he twisted them in the ends of my hair, sending a tingly sensation along my scalp “Nope. Just had some experience with stuff like this before.”
“You think you’ve got women all figured out, then, do you?” I asked.
Jake shook his head. “No way. Every time you think you do, they change the rules on you. Like they could love the way you were yesterday and hate it the next day.”
“Every now and then, we change our minds. It’s our prerogative. The big secret is”—I leaned in conspiratorially—“sometimes, even we don’t know why. There are times after we pick a fight where we’re as confused as you are. But there’s no way we’re admitting it.” I shrugged a shoulder. “That’s why we have boobs.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up.
“See, after we’ve acted crazy, and the guy’s wondering what he’s doing with us, we use them to mesmerize him, so he forgets that we’re crazy.” I shot Jake my most seductive smile and leaned the assets in question against his arm. “And by the way, if you look at my cleavage right now, even though I’m the one talking about it, I’ll accuse you of not caring about what I say and of just treating me like an object.”
Jake swallowed hard, keeping eye contact with me, though I could tell he was fighting his impulse to look down. A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes. “And treating you like an object would be bad?”
“It depends on how big a deal you make about how smart, funny, talented, etcetera, etcetera I am first.”
Jake slid his hand behind my neck and swept his thumb along my jaw. “Have I told you how smart, funny, talented, and etcetera I think you are?”
“You think I’m going to fall for that when I just fed you the lines?” Before he could answer, I kissed him. Using his hand on my neck, he pulled me closer, forcing my lips open with his tongue. His other hand slid up my thigh, and even through jeans, my skin burned from his touch.
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