Sex Material… It’s what I’m known around town for. A rock-hard body, covered in tattoos with a sizeable bulge that women spend their nights fantasizing about. Women track me down, needing someone that will fuck them rough without holding back. They find me because they need a distraction from reality. They need something to get their mind off of the boyfriend who screwed them over or the job promotion they got passed over on at work. Sometimes it’s just because they need someone reckless in the bedroom before settling down with the right one. ‘Cause I’m sure as hell not that guy. Nowhere close. I’m not the suit wearing, flower-buying guy you take home to meet the parents. I’m not the guy who will make you feel all warm and fucking fuzzy inside. Not anymore. I was boyfriend material once. Would’ve even made a good husband. That was before everything good in my world got ripped away, leaving me broken beyond repair. These women come to me because they need an escape to cope with the real world, but none of them know I need it more than them. I need something to make me feel alive. Something to get my heart beating again. Then Cami shows up in my hometown, broken-hearted and pissed off at the world, needing an escape from her cheating ex. She’s the only one that doesn’t want to use my body. In fact, she wants nothing to do with it and has no problems telling me so. She’s interested in one thing only from me—to move into my rental property. But the problem with that is the more we fight, the deeper she buries herself in my soul. Sex material is what I’m good at, but for the first time, it may not be enough.