My pretty little Puppet dreamed of monsters and things that go bump in the night. She ached to forget about responsibilities and expectations long enough to let a faceless predator chase her through the woods. So I gave Peyton Everett everything she ever dreamed of. Once I hired her as my housekeeper, I brought her to the middle of nowhere to maintain my estate, and then I anonymously contacted her through the website she only visited when she was alone.

Hockey is my life. It's my only goal, my only escape. Everything was going according to plan. All I had to do was focus on the game, keep my head down, then get drafted into the NHL. Starting the year as the captain of FU should have made that easy, but now my attention is torn between the ice and taunting my rival's little sister, Madeline Peters. My only real solace is the mystery girl inside my phone who refuses to tell me her name. Then, one drunken knock on the wrong door brings Madeline into my bedroom.

It was only supposed to be one night… and I meant it when I made the deal with my dad's ex-boyfriend. If I went to college, he would let me tag along Caribbean island hopping on his charter boat for the summer. Cass stuck to his end of the bargain, but not me—I asked for extra terms. One night: me, him, and nothing between us, showed me what it felt like to be loved by a man.

As a psychiatrist, I expect to encounter psycho- and sociopathic patients. I never have the urge to kill them. Until one patient triggers a need inside me. I expect the kill to be easy, just like the others. What I don't expect is to want to possess my patient's boyfriend, June. As soon as I lay eyes on June, I know he's mine. He'll find out soon enough.

When you've been told your whole life that something is sinful, you have two options. Avoid it like the plague, like it has the power to destroy all that is good and pure. Or become as fixated upon it as Eve was upon that apple. I'm sick of the push-pull of terror and temptation. It's tearing me apart. I just want a bite of the apple. More than a bite. I want to devour it. Have its juices spill from my lips. And by apple, I, of course, mean sex.