I like my men the way I like my drinks: tall, stiff, with a few aches the only proof I pounded them the night before. I don't do relationships. I don't do romance. I do kinky AF strangers I never speak to again. Or I did, until Cris Ardmore comes along.Handsome, charming, and cooks almost as well as he f*cks-which is to say phenomenally-Cris makes me want to break all my carefully cultivated rules. I don't want to like him and I definitely can't afford...