Gorgeous, tempting, and entirely out of my league. I just met the man of my dreams, and rode him like a freaking backpack …and God do I wish that was a euphemism. Ever wonder what exactly is in a recipe for disaster? Cause, I’ve got it. All you need is one candy corn loving scaredy-cat, i.e. me. Add thirty of my closest frenemies, throw in a haunted corn maze and a murderous clown, and then sprinkle the whole thing with a dash of embarrassment just to keep things interesting. Get the mix just right and you’ll fall in love… Yeah, or you’ll ride the man of your dreams like a backpack. Literally. I literally rode my dream guy—my tempting, illegally hot, fantasy man—backpack style out of that stupid corn maze. I’m just trying to survive my senior year of college. My only rule: take the path of least resistance. Which was going great until I fell for the hottest man on campus. The one all the girls want. Coach Prescott. Crap. I crave him more than candy corn. Which is a lot. With dark eyes, hard muscles, and a dominant streak a mile wide. There was no resisting him. He wants to know my naughtiest fantasies. That’s easy. I want to be his good girl. His naughty girl. I want him to be my daddy. Sometimes, the dirtiest trick turns into the sweetest treat. Right?