COVER REVEAL: Prick by Sabrina Paige

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PRICK ---Urban Dictionary

1.) penis

2.) derogatory term used to sum up the existence of a worthless a**hole.

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.

And I can't stop thinking about that prick.

I'm totally f**ked.

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(Mature Readers)

The edges of his eyes wrinkle when he looks at me.  "There are no other girls."

"I don't believe you."

"Yes you do," he says, moving his finger up to my face.  He traces the outline of my jaw, pulls my face up toward his.  "Because you know it's true.  Since you, there's been no one else."

My heart thumps in my chest.  "But the redhead..."

"I don't know her.  She walked in and stripped off her clothes."  He leans in close and kisses me, barely brushing my lips with his, the movement light as a feather.

I push him back, unable to contain my laugh.  "Women don't just walk in a room and take off their clothes."

"They do for me."

"That's ridiculous."

"I'm a celebrity," he says.  "It's not the first time."

"And it won't be the last, either."  I'm irritated with him again.  I'm irritated with the idea that women walk into a room and throw themselves at him.  I'm irritated with the fact that the insistent throbbing between my legs is making me stupid.  It's making me want to lose my mind and beg him to bury his cock inside me.

"I like this jealous streak," he says.  "It's adorable."

"I'm not jealous," I insist, lying, to him or myself, I'm not sure which.  "I'm making sure that you're not riddled with STDs."

"Jealous," he says, his mouth close to mine.  He licks my lower lip with the tip of his tongue, and I inhale sharply, my thoughts clouded by lust.

"You're the jealous one.  You were jealous when you saw me outside with Chase."

He grabs a handful of hair at the base of my neck and pulls me to him, covering my mouth with his.  A twinge of pain shoots through me as he presses his mouth hard against my mouth, his tongue warring with mine.  My body is on fire, and I long for him to run his hands over my skin.  I long to feel him inside me.

When he finally pulls away, he keeps a firm grasp on my hair, holding my head steady so I can't help but look at him.  "You're damn right I was jealous," he says.  "Don't even think about talking to him again."

"Says the guy who had a naked girl in the library.  That's ironic."

"I didn't touch her.  I threw her out," he says.  "She was repulsive."

"She was hot.  And you could have touched her," I say.  "You and I aren't anything."

"That lacrosse player doesn't lay a finger on you," he says.  "You belong to me."

"What the hell is this, Caulter?" I ask.  "You're the one who says you're just having a little fun.  You're nobody's happy ever after, remember?"

He grips my hair harder, pulls me against him, his hardness pressing into my thigh.  "And you're not some frail little princess who needs swept off her feet," he says, running his hand up the side of my leg and cupping my ass, the tips of his fingers touching my pussy lips.  I'm wet, practically dripping, and when he realizes it, he pulls me against him, crushing my mouth with his again.

"Then what am I?" I ask, when I come up for air.

"You're the most irritating girl I've ever met," he says, his grip still tight on my hair.  He covers my breast with his hand, warm through the fabric of the dress, and my nipples harden immediately to his touch.

Sabrina Paige writes about smart, sexy women and the hot alpha males who love them. Outlaw bikers, cowboys, and military men make her
swoon. She has found her own happily ever after with her active duty military husband and adorable toddler.
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