7
Men didn’t manhandle me.
The casual hookups I brought home were all hot, thirsty, and accommodating.
Not assertive.
I had a type, I stuck to it.
Besides, I wasn’t five foot nothing, curvy, and cute.
I was tall, lean (minus my ass), and whatever the f**k was the opposite of cute.
In other words, I wasn’t the sort of woman that men wanted to pick up and throw around.
Except for f*****g Aiden.
Sprawled over his shoulder, the taut globes of his muscular ass greeted me.
I reached down to grope him—and he smacked my ass.
Hard.
“What the f**k?” I shifted my weight in preparation of some serious retribution, but in one fluid move he flung me onto the sofa.
It was a well-padded sofa and a soft landing, and my heart was thudding with something that resembled lust, but—“What the hell w
