When I left home, I swore I'd never hide anything about myself again. From college, to law school, to the United States Senate representing California, I've done it all as an out gay man. So, when I'm in DC and see a beautiful guy at the hotel bar, I don't hesitate to proposition him...right before he runs out on me, leaving his sunglasses behind like my very own Cinderfella. 

Every bartender should follow one simple rule - don't go home with the customers. That’s been easy for me to stick to, until the night a cocky, confident, and sinfully charming hockey star walks into my bar. This sexy athlete is too hard to resist, especially when he makes it clear how much he wants the “sarcastic, witty, hot AF” guy behind the bar - also known as me. Still, I’m not keen on breaking my own rules since I know where that can lead - no place good.   

I’m a man with too many secrets, so the last thing I need is a new roommate with a sexy smile and blue eyes that see right through me. Eight years ago, Roderick left town after high school. We’re not friends. I owe him nothing. But back then, I let one of my secrets slip, and he’s the only one who noticed. Part of me knows I should run far, far away. But the other part wants him to come upstairs and spend the night. But if I let him in, I could lose everything. 

Jamie Canning has never been able to figure out how he lost his closest friend. Four years ago, his tattooed, wisecracking, rule-breaking roommate cut him off without an explanation. So what if things got a little weird on the last night of hockey camp the summer they were 18? It was just a little drunken foolishness. Nobody died.

When a gorgeous cop comes racing out of a building on Fifth Avenue, hops in your horse-drawn carriage, and screams, “Go!” - you go. You don’t stop and ask for paperwork. Or a badge. Or an explanation of who you’re chasing. You simply follow his shouted orders and try not to kill anyone in the process...But then it turns out that the “cop” is none other than Roman Burke, Hollywood’s hottest star, and our little joyride gets me fired. Now I’m broke, my horse has been evicted from her barn, and I’ve got nowhere to turn.

Best-selling authors Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy return with their first Male/Male romance in 3 years. LobsterShorts, 21. Jock. Secretly a science geek. Hot AF. SinnerThree, 21. Finance major. Secretly a male dancer. Hot AF. LobsterShorts: So. Here goes. For her birthday, my girlfriend wants…a threesome. SinnerThree: Then you’ve come to the right hookup app. LobsterShorts: Have you done this sort of thing before? With another guy? SinnerThree: All the time. I’m an equal opportunity player. You? LobsterShorts: [crickets!] 

Five months in, NHL forward Ryan Wesley is having a record-breaking rookie season. He's living his dream of playing pro hockey and coming home every night to the man he loves - Jamie Canning, his longtime best friend turned boyfriend. There's just one problem: the most important relationship of his life is one he needs to keep hidden, or else face a media storm that will eclipse his success on the ice.

When returning to Licking Thicket, TN, for the first time in 10 years to reunite with your nosy neighbors, heartbroken ex-girlfriend, and matchmaking mama who never quite believed you were gay, it’s best to bring a fake boyfriend as backup. Just don’t be surprised when your ex-girlfriend does the same. 

I didn’t mean to stow away on the yacht, I swear. My first mistake was going home with the jerk at the bar, but in my defense, Prescott said he owned the Worthington - 90 feet of sleek, yachty perfection - and if I could get the chief mate’s job, I’d have an excuse to stay on board and keep avoiding my family and my future. How was I supposed to know he was the owner’s cheating, gold-digging almost brother-in-law, or that I’d end up stuffed in a closet when the ship left the harbor?

Parrish Partridge’s true facts: There’s nothing hotter than a tall, gruff, bewildered, tattooed mountain of a man cuddling a sweet, orphaned baby, so you can tell yourself that you’ll resist him...But that’s a lie. And when that man asks you to do him a favor and pretend to be his very temporary, very fake fiance to help him get custody of that adorable baby, you can pretend you know better than to say yes...But that’s a lie, too.

I don't need anyone's protection. I'm fine. But to appease my sister after a home invasion, I agree to take self-defense lessons. They just so happen to be with a big, muscled former navy SEAL who may or may not be everything I've always daydreamed about but never thought I could have. And he's dead set on looking out for me even when things in my life suddenly get complicated. Between the increasing threats against me and pressure from my wealthy family to be someone I'm not, I'm having a hard time keeping it together.

Felix - Things I expect to find at Gadleigh Castle: rare stained glass, the subject of my dissertation; peace and quiet, to finish said dissertation; an escape from the paparazzi. Things I don’t expect to find: a hidden door leading to a secret room; the most gorgeous man I’ve ever set eyes on; love. Lio - Things I know are expected of me in life: I will become the King of Liorland; I will marry a nice woman; I will provide heirs to my family’s monarchy. Reasons that might be difficult: I’m gay; I’m falling in love with Felix; He has no idea I’m royal.

You know what's not fun? Going on a Fiji vacation with four other couples. Especially when recently single. What's even worse is when a past hook-up arrives unannounced. Not only do we have a history, but he's 10 years younger and a famous rock star. Most importantly, he's my friend's little brother. Being trapped on an island with Jet Jackson is going to be sweet torture because all I want is another chance. I just don't think he's going to give it to me.

Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

When Talon left to play pro ball six years ago, the hole in my chest confused me. I focused my heartache into making my own NFL dreams come true, and by the time I was drafted, the longing I had for my best friend was buried deep. Now, he wants everything to be like it was in college, but we can't have threesomes and be reckless like we once were. The media storm would be enough to break both our careers. That's not my biggest concern, though. The torch I had for him burns brighter after so long apart, and there's nothing I can do about it. Marcus Talon is straight.