Sonny Ardmore is an excellent liar. She lies about her dad being in prison. She lies about her mom kicking her out. And she lies about sneaking into her best friend's house every night because she has nowhere else to go.
Amy Rush might be the only person Sonny shares everything with— secrets, clothes, even a nemesis named Ryder Cross.
Ryder's the new kid at Hamilton High and everything Sonny and Amy can't stand—a prep-school snob. But Ryder has a weakness: Amy. So when Ryder emails Amy asking her out, the friends see it as a prank opportunity not to be missed.
But without meaning to, Sonny ends up talking to Ryder all night online. And to her horror, she realizes that she might actually like him. Only there's one small catch: he thinks he's been talking to Amy. So Sonny comes up with an elaborate scheme to help Ryder realize that she's the girl he's really wanted all along. Can Sonny lie her way to the truth, or will all her lies end up costing her both Ryder and Amy?

I'd never been to a sex club before. Hell, before I saw the new erotic romance movie, I didn’t even know what BDSM was. I was that naïve. 
Mix together a few shots of alcohol, my dangerously adventurous girlfriend and a dose of curiosity, and you had the recipe for a very crazy night. 
That’s how I ended up inside the sex club.
How did I end up being schooled in the arts of BDSM by my sinfully sexy stepbrother? 
Now that was just pure madness. 

I can't stop thinking about that prick. 

Caulter Sterling is a prick.

A filthy-mouthed, womanizing, crude, spoiled, arrogant prick.

The tattooed, pierced, panty-melting-hot son of a celebrity.

I hate him.

He's slept his way through practically every girl at Brighton Academy. 

Except for me.

I'm the good girl. The responsible girl. The 4.0, class president, studied-so-much-she-never-lost-the-big-V girl.

And in celebration of graduation and adulthood, I just made the worst decision in the history of ever. 

I lost my V-card to the devil himself.

It was just one night. So what if it was mind-blowing? Hit it and quit it.

Except I just found out that my father - the Senator, the Presidential hopeful - is marrying Caulter's mother. Oh, and this summer? We're hitting the campaign trail.

One big happy family.

I'm totally f**ked.

I call him “Tool” because he’s a dick.

Gaige O’Neal is nicknamed “Tool” because of what he’s packing. Rumor is, he’s well equipped.

I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had the pleasure.

He’s a cocky, entitled, insufferable a**hole who’s as reckless with women as he is with that stupid motorcycle he races.

He’s also my stepbrother. Lucky me.

It’s been four years since I’ve seen him. Four years since he’s made me so frustrated I could scream. Four years since he’s given me that look, the one that makes me instantly wet.

So it’s just f**ing fitting that the first time I see him in four years, he’s buried beneath three scantily clad blondes.

Now I’m stuck here under the same roof with him while he recovers from a racing injury. An injury that clearly hasn’t affected the use of his tool.

The problem is, as much as I despise him, I just can’t help myself. I want to find out what kind of tool he's working with.