Yours to Bare

Finn No matter how cruel it's been to me in the past, I've never been able to flip fate the bird. I'm a romantic at heart. So when fate drops a leather-bound journal at my feet, I know I should walk away.I don't. I pick her up, bend her spine, spread her pages. From the first word, I'm a goner. The owner didn't give me access to her most intimate desires, but I devour them anyway. Her private darkness, her candid, explicit poetry-it all goes down like warm milk. And from that point forward,...