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 Prologue 
 Clown Fetish 
 Hazel's throat was raw from screaming Scott's name. He did that to her. With his hands, his mouth, and his long, thin penis. She was lying on a towel which was wet enough to have soaked through to the mattress below. His sexual talents made her feel more beautiful than she'd ever felt before. Her eyes stayed closed, but she heard him rustling around. Her fingertips felt like rubber. Hazel touched the pad of her index finger to the nail on her thumb. He'd fucked the feeling out of her hands. She could sleep like this, splayed out on the bed, naked and rosy. She was betting her nipples were a hot red and might even match the marks he'd left on her ass cheeks. 
 Maybe even the blush on her face would match, too, as she thought of how, in between screaming his name, God's name, and a lot of guttural sounds, she'd told him she loved him. 
 That was not a step she'd planned to take while her ankles were on his shoulders, but when her body had been strung tight like a fist and he'd released it with a combo that should be in every boyfriend handbook, Hazel's mouth made its own decisions. 
 Scott was taking longer than he should have to bring back a warm, wet towel from the bathroom, so she forced herself to peel open at least one eyelid to check on him. 
 He was buttoning his jeans. 
 Hazel let herself enjoy the sight of him--the bare chest and jeans was a classic combo, and he made it look good. She finally made it to his face and offered him a satisfied smile--he sure as hell had earned it. 
 Scott was stone-faced. 
 "You okay?" She was so boneless she couldn't even move yet, so her concern was only on her tongue. 
 "I'm leaving." He pulled his T-shirt over his head. 
 "Oh? Are you hungry? I can make something. I know you've got nothing to cook upstairs." She let her hand flop onto her stomach. 
 Just as she was thinking about how lovely it was that they were so comfortable naked with each other, he changed the atmosphere in the entire room. 
 "No, I'm leaving you. This is over. I'm done." 
 Now Hazel was able to prop up on an elbow. Though the words were confusing and her brain was trying to wrap around what he'd said, it was his flat tone that had her heart pounding all over again--but for different reasons. 
 "You're going back to your apartment?" 
 The room's scent was so hardwired into her brain--telling her she was happy--that she just couldn't make the connections she needed to. 
 "I'm breaking up with you right now." 
 Hazel finally sat all the way up. "What?" 
 Scott was fully clothed now but picking up his shoes because apparently he was in such a rush that he couldn't take the time to put them on. Scott was at her bedroom door before he looked back over his shoulder. 
 She was in midcrouch now, trying to gather her clothes. He took one last look at her naked, bent form. 
 "That last orgasm was my parting gift. I've got another girl. She lives on the top floor of this apartment. Don't make this weird for me, okay?" 
 Scott closed the bedroom door, and she sat on the floor, holding her pants and one sock. It took him a few minutes to close the front door. Later, she would figure out that he'd stopped to take the six-pack of beer he'd stashed in her fridge while they fucked. 
 And that's what they'd done. Scott had changed it on her, from making love to fucking. 
 It had been the first time she'd ever told a guy that she loved them. 
 And as she hugged her two articles of clothing to her chest, she promised herself it would be the last. 
 XOXOXOXO 
 It wasn't until he was drilling his new girlfriend on her ceiling that she realized she needed to move out of her apartment. Well, it wasn't really on her ceiling, but on his floor that also happened to be her ceiling. No amount of screaming, loud music, or broom handle banging would make him stop. Or her. The new girlfriend had a super annoying habit. The harder she came, the harder she laughed. The shrill sound of her explosive laughter as Scott made every sex dream she'd ever had come true induced nightmares for Hazel. Very specific nightmares involving clowns in fetish gear. 
 She had to move. She had to get out. 
 It wasn't so easy to get the hell out of a one-year lease, and in her panic, Hazel had a moment of extreme insanity. Well, maybe it was a sleep-deprived decision made in anger and sadness. And a severe desire to be out from under Scott's hyena-pounding. When her best friend, Claire called screaming about winning a chance to be a part of Booty Camp, Hazel allowed herself to be swept away in her friend's excitement.