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I'm an avid reader and reviewer of romance books, especially m-m and erotica. You can find me on http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/4669232-baba-marcus-tyler-tate-dan-ty-hunter 

The Wicked Bad (Crimson Romance) - Karyn Gerrard

1 star. DNF at 30 %. Review posted April 18, 2013 

Note to readers: You must select at least one right answer. Good luck!

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I swear by everything holy I tried to like this book, but the story and its characters failed big time. This is beyond bad.

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Anyways, I really don't want to waste my precious reading time by writing a long review. Therefore I apologize in advance for quoting way too much, but I think it will give you a feel what you can expect in case you'd like to read the book.

In a nutshell 
They meet, awkward and embarrassing interaction, mutual attractiveness, they fix a date. She is on cloud nine. *sunshine & roses*

The Wicked Bad was beyond bad. Awfully bad. In fact, it must be one of the worst books I've read this year. Very poor, cheesy, and amateurish writing, no build-up whatsoever, no chemistry, no sexual tension. The sex scenes are a turn-off. To top everything off the MCs are incredibly bland as well as one-dimensional. The narrative is horrible, and the stilted and uninspiring dialogue are the icing on the flavorless cake. Nick has a hard-on all the time and the crying heroine felt forced, totally misplaced. Also, the physical attributes of hero and heroine are mentioned ad nauseam. Hence, I highly dislike repetitiveness. Besides, telling me over and over again how incredibly hot or muscled or luscious the characters are will not draw me into the story. If anything, it will encourage me to get irritated in no time flat. Truth be told, this story made me want to gag and I was rolling my eyes all the time. In any event, I can't believe that such a crappy book has found a publisher. 

Great, he stood in a bakery with a raging hard-on.
(…)The leather pants hid nothing. He was determined he'd talk to her today even if it killed him, and at this rate it would. Baba thinks: Great, another hero who has to deal with a raging hard-on 24/7. Too bad you're still here, Nick. I really hope your c@ck is going to kill you.

Black leather pants caressed his muscular thighs and--her head snapped back up--he had a package that could win a first place blue ribbon on one of those bulge websites, not that she ever visited them.

A trace of heat traveled through her as she stared at him. Veronica observed his eyes darken, with interest? Surely, she was mistaken. She licked her lips as they had gone dry, but not her thighs; they were a raging river in the early spring thaw. Baba thinks: Our Swiss Alps are really close to spring thaw at the moment. Yup, my focus is missing. Blah, blah, blah. *major headdesk moment*

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"Yeah, and you're Veronica Barnes. Hi."
Her throat closed over. Never in her life did she have such an immediate reaction to a man like this. All she wanted to do was throw him to the floor and crawl all over his tall, muscled frame. Taste his golden skin. Kiss those full lips. Grind her very core into his huge bulge. Oh, wow! She felt her face flame hot.

Whoa. Hold your horses, Ronnie.

I wanted to burn this book.

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A low animal snarl escaped his lips as he strode outside. His growl sent a wave of heat straight between Veronica's legs.

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There wasn't much in this world that rattled her, but standing before the sexy presence of Terminator Nick rocked her senses.

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Nick hadn't slept for two nights. He had restless-sheet-twisting-brain-racing-staring-at-the-clock-with-cat-naps-in-between type of sleep. Where to take Ronnie for dinner? Where to go for the drive? What in hell would they talk about?

Hmm...I can see your problem, Nick. You always have to think about your raging hard-on. 24/7. That's hard work, for sure. So, it's kinda normal when your brain takes a break.

She could go full-bore slut mode, but she didn't really own any sexy clothes. Well, except for one dress William made her buy in Vegas. The outfit was cut so low her size D-cups spilled out into her lap. Turn suddenly and her nipples would pop out and wink at someone. No way.

William used to go on and on about it, forever grabbing her like he married her tits instead of her.
"I William Forteque Titus the II, take these tits to be my legally married…" Veronica giggled. Even his name---'Tit-us.' It fit. If you can't laugh about it, why bother?

Yeah, why bother? *rolls eyes* You know while reading this story I've had quite a few WTF moments...

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She walked past him, close enough to brush by his sweater and allowing him to have a whiff of her delicious aroma. Some fruity body wash, delicate, not overpowering. He could detect expensive cologne mixed with her distinct, sexy, feminine scent. He closed his eyes briefly and savored it. Nick stepped aside so she could lock the door.

They enjoyed a bowl of crab soup and were waiting for the steaks to arrive. In between courses they made small talk about generalities, nothing too heavy or probing personally. Nick was too preoccupied by the perpetual hard-on he had since Ronnie climbed on the back of his bike and snuggled her lush body against his. The sensation of those luscious breasts slammed against his back with her small, delicate hands around his waist, and her feminine core nestled against his ass—lingered. Nick had felt her heartbeat, every intake of her breath and he could feel it still. Never was he so in-tune with a woman’s body before, every twitch and every movement without sex being involved. His cock was hard as granite. Unbelievable. The erection felt damned painful and embarrassing.

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The Wicked Bad is beyond help. Do not attempt at resuscitation. 

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"You haven't been with any women…"
"Oh, I didn't say I haven't been with women, just haven't been on a date." One corner of his mouth twitched in what Veronica supposed was amusement.
Veronica laughed out loud, she couldn't help it. Nick smiled broadly in return. He could be funny. How wonderful.

Huh? This is supposed to be funny? How wonderful. 

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Out of the corner of his mouth snarled a sexy, animal groan of pure longing.

Veronica could feel every hardened edge of him. Nick was aroused, how could she miss it?

He was ready to go off like a roman candle.

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Nick almost spilled himself in his jeans right then and there. Never saw anything so sensual as Ronnie climaxing merely by rubbing against him. He sat up and kept her firmly straddling his erection. If it was hard before, now it was beyond. Damned cement.

A low, languid moan escaped from Nick. The noise rumbled up from his toes and shook him. 

"Off," she snarled (yes, she snarled) as she pulled at his sweater.

Her face and breasts stung gloriously from his closely-cropped goatee rubbing against her skin. She wanted to feel that silky, soft facial hair rub against the inside of her thighs and that magical, probing tongue of his firmly planted in the deepest and wettest part of her. Veronica had to bite back a moan from escaping her lips from the image.

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Veronica bent over to grab her clipboard when she glanced outside. What she saw made her drop it on the floor with a clatter.
Under the streetlight with his long muscular legs spread apart and his hands at his side clenched into fists, stood Nick Crocetti. Getting past the initial shock of seeing him, what shocked her further was the look on his face.
Pure, feral, animal lust. Want. Desire.

Rawwwrrrr! *shudder*

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He took her hand and placed it over his hard-as-a-rock dick. Veronica moaned, she couldn't help herself. He had a brick down his pants, surely.
"I've been in this condition since Saturday night," he rasped.
His hand lay atop hers, pressing and urging her to grab as much of him as she could. She did. Nick groaned right from his toes.
"Is your brother here?"
Damn, how could she have hot, wild, feral sex if her brother was in the next room?"

Nick looked around, how to do this? He sat her on the tall crate. Perfect. Exact height he hoped for. All he had to do was stand in front of her, spread those luscious thighs, and take what he had dreamed about since he was eighteen years old. He lowered his zipper. He wore no underwear either tonight. Grabbing his hardened cock, he pulled it out.

"Nick. Your cock is so--thick," she whispered, almost with awe.
So thick that at times it was hard to get a condom on. Baba exclaims: WOWWWWW!
"Help me out here, Ronnie." 
She didn't hesitate. She grabbed him with both hands while he tried to get the condom over his rock hard prick. He was so rigid, never been this stiff before. His breath puffed out in ragged gasps, he'd be hyperventilating soon. Yeah, that would be attractive. Breathe into a paper bag while having sex. Baba thinks: Let this be over...soon! *groans*

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The scent was enticing and male--wildness--a feral tiger. Her crotch nestled firmly against his muscular ass. The friction from the bumps and lurches and the rhythmic vibrations of the bike as he drove caused a landslide of heat to envelope her. The bike and Nick were one entity, each an extension of the other. Dominant, throbbing and lustful. Desire pierced her. She barely bit off a moan before it floated past her lips.

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Sorry, but I'm so done…

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Read at your own risk.

P.S. There is always a first for everything. I returned The Wicked Bad to amazon because it's a shame to pay 3.62 euro for this sorry excuse of a book.

Source: http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/592917253