Dirty Filthy Rich Men

Spoilers, maybe.

The biggest issue I had with this book was that it was told from Sabrina's perspective. That woman needed a huge dose of self-love.

Had we gotten another POV, this would have been a superb read; instead, we're treated to Sabrina's illogical and conflicting thought process. Also, could someone please explain why most book heroines always have just that one friend?

Then, I had tons of questions, such as:

Why was she 17 years old- while at Harvard- when her character could easily have been written as an adult?

Why didn't Sabrina get psychiatric help after the near-rape incident? Yes, she was a student with no money but rape crisis centers offer free counseling.

What are the odds that ALL 3 of them would end up working in the same industry?

Why would she jeopardize everything she'd worked for by sleeping with her boss? Why?

Sigh, I don't know.

I guess I liked it well enough but it could have been a whole lot smarter.

And in every way that it was vile and wrong, I loved it. In every way that it meant I was sick and shameful, I embraced it.

Fuck you,” I spat. I didn’t know how I was so certain that he knew this was a game, but I was. Just as I was certain that he knew that part of it was real too.
“Don’t worry, you will.”

His eyes glinted in the dimly lit stairway, like an animal. Like all he could see was this target, this prize that wasn’t a being or a person at all but just a thing to dominate and fuck.

Find me on:

"Why do you do this to me?" I whispered.
His lips hovered above mine. Dancing. Teasing. "Do What?"
"Trap me like this."
"It makes me feel like I have you."
I ached at my core. "I don't want you to feel like you have me."
"Are you sure of that?"

The list goes on and on. Everything you want in a book boyfriend and more!!
"Do you get yourself off when you have these dirty thoughts?"
"Yes." I pressed my thighs together, seeking relief. I was so turned on.
"Show me."
"Show you?"
"Yes... and tell me. Tell me what I do to you in your imagination. Show me and tell me. Show and tell."

"Seriously, Sabrina. What were you thinking coming out here alone? If you wanted to get raped, you could have just called me." Even with the dark, teasing words, his delivery was a lecture.

I follow his gaze to an elegant Asian woman sitting near the bar chatting with a few other people.

I walked up to his secretary's desk. She was an attractive woman with black hair and dark skin, but her ethnicity wasn't immediately recognizable.

"You're welcome to wait in the bar," the hostess suggested, a pale young woman who looked one hundred percent like she'd some from East Asia but talked like she'd lived one hundred percent of her life in the Bronx.

******May Contain Spoilers******

“Why do you do this to me?” I whispered. His lips hovered above mine. Dancing. Teasing. “Do what?” “Trap me like this.” “It makes me feel like I have you.” I ached at my core. “I don’t want you to feel like you have me.” “Are you sure of that?”