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Published by Janine Infante Bosco
Edited/formatted by: Jennifer Bosco
Cover Design by: Hang Le
ISBN: 9781495168840
Acknowledgments
“We don't develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.”
~Barbara de Angelis
If I had to acknowledge all the people in my life that are constantly showing me support, this page would exceed the word count of the actual book. I am very fortunate for the people in my life who all play a significant role in the most amazing support system a woman could ever ask for.
From the bottom of my heart, I thank each and every one of you. It’s been a very trying year thus far but with the help of all of you, I pushed forward and wrote Illicit Temptations. I have found the courage to thrive because of the wonderful friends and family in my life. The people who maybe held my hand, brushed away my tears, or told me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The people who saw Janine Infante Bosco wrote a book and not knowing a damn thing about her took a gamble and read her book. People who didn’t shoot me down when I said I wanted to started writing, the people who believe in me on a regular basis.
I don’t have to write an extensive list of names or tell you what you’ve done to make me value you in my life. You know who you are, you are the people who unwaveringly stand beside me motivating me to be the best version of myself. I am so thankful for all of you.—Janine
About the Author
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
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Excerpt from Forbidden Temptations
Coming Soon
Prologue: February 2012
Anthony
I had eight months and six days left of sleeping on this piece of shit bunk bed in this piece of shit jail cell with an annoying little fuck for a cellmate to say my life had turned to shit was an understatement. I was doing a three-year bid for possession and distribution of narcotics if that’s not a fucking joke I didn’t know what is. I have done a lot of fucked up shit most of it illegal, but I never did drugs. Never sold them and never fucking snorted them so it was pretty fucking funny that I went away for both. But I didn’t have a say in the matter if I wanted to climb the ranks in the mob I had to do what the fuck I had to do and when the boss told you that you needed to do a bid you did it. The same goes for when the boss tells you the sole purpose of being incarcerated is so that you murder the man who ordered the hit on his Underboss. You don’t ask questions you just do it. Too bad that plan went astray when my mark was sent to a maximum-security prison before I could get the job done.
I stared up at the ceiling, trying to tune out the little shit that was in the cot below me running his mouth I swear to God he loves to hear himself talk.
“Overheard the C.O.’s talking about your next fight Bianchi. They’re worried that you’re going to get your ass kicked like you did the last two fights.” Cheech said pointedly getting my attention with that.
He was right, I did get my ass kicked still sporting a black eye as proof, but not because I couldn’t fight. I was built like a machine my power was undeniable and when you put a pair of boxing gloves me I was goddamn bull fucking indestructible. I had purposely thrown my last two fights because I wanted to feel the pain each hit a reminder that I was a greedy bastard living in a self-created hell and had destroyed everything that mattered to me. I had destroyed her.
“I don’t give a fuck what people are saying. They’re only concerned about who they’re going to bet on and which inmates going to bring them the sweet payoff.” I said.
The correction officers here were a bunch of jerkoffs thinking who the fuck they were because they had a badge made me want to look in their smug faces and tell them that they weren’t real cops that their mother’s probably made them take the city test because they knew their sorry asses wouldn’t amount to shit. They didn’t respect their badge or bleed blue they fucking bet on the inmates slipped us cigarettes and turned their fucking heads so we could beat the living fuck out of one another. My boss, Victor had half these guys in his pocket and if my mark hadn’t been shipped, to maximum they would’ve locked me in a room with him and walk away so I could murder him. Don’t get me wrong, they were cool to me, but that’s because they didn’t have much of a choice if they wanted that extra cash in their pocket they had to treat me like a fucking king or Vic would cut them off.
“You going soft Bianchi?” Cheech asked, trying his best to rile me up. He probably had half his commissary down on my fight.
I cracked my bruised knuckles and debated if I should tape them now or wait since I still had time before the fight. The C.O.’s wouldn’t be bringing my match and me out to the yard until after visiting hours were over. Sunday’s were a big day for visitors and the hours stretched long everyone and their mother trooped it up here to see the guys. Me? I didn’t get many visitors not on Sundays not on any days not really even on holidays.
It wasn’t always like that when I was first incarcerated I had many visitors. Victor and the guys would come up to talk business with me and make sure I was keeping my head. Vic was really concerned that I’d go fucking crazy in the pen, but I kept my cool kept to myself threw myself into boxing and at night when I closed my eyes I’d dream of her.
She visited me a lot in the beginning weekly in fact, until I told her I didn’t want her up here anymore. I just couldn’t stand sitting across from her looking into her sad eyes, knowing I was the reason she looked so broken. I broke her heart the day I stepped on that state bus, and then I completely crushed it the day I told her I didn’t love her anymore and that she needed to stop coming to visit me because she was only making a fool out of herself.
She was no fool.
I was the fool.
The fool that pushed her away and let her go.
I didn’t just love her I fucking cherished her. That woman owned me my body my soul and my black heart.
I jumped off the top bunk needing to shake her from my head, I positioned myself on the concrete floor and started to do pushups. It didn’t always work it was the one thing I used to distract myself when I started to think of her. Sometimes I would feel my arms burn from the vigorous repetition before the ache in my heart dulled or the vision of her gorgeous face faded from my mind. I wondered if I’d ever forget her full mouth or what it felt like kissing her until her lips swelled or those chocolate eyes that looked at me like I was something even though I was nothing. Would I always be haunted by the memory o
f long brown hair that I’d tangle my fingers through or her body that I had worshipped like it was my temple?
I grunted as the sweat started to bead on my forehead, pushing my body up and then dropping my weight half way off the ground doing it over and over doing everything to make her go away. I ignored the sound of the bars sliding open and pretended like I didn’t hear the C.O. had just stepped foot inside my cell. I prepared myself to block out what would happen next telling myself I didn’t give a fuck that no one came to see my sorry ass anymore or that it didn’t sting when Cheech left our cell because his woman came from Yonkers to see him.
“You too Bianchi” the correction officer said, forcing me to pause mid pushup. “Something happen to your hearing when Gomez knocked you out? I said you too now let’s go.”
I rose to my feet slowly turning around to glance at him, Cheech patted me on the back and stepped out of the cell following the other officer into the visiting room. The C.O. raised a single eyebrow as he crossed his arms against his puffed out chest.
“Move it Bianchi I don’t have all day.” He said impatiently before mumbling something about losing fifty bucks on a schmuck like me. My wide shoulders brushed past him through the tight entryway of the cell and I started down the long hallway. I could hear the inmates whisper as I past their cells wondering just as much as I was who the fuck was here to see me. The C.O. walked me to a door handing me to another officer who would take me to the visitor’s room.
I tried to go through the list of people that were approved to see me trying to figure who I’d have to face, but then again, it didn’t matter knowing whoever was here was probably only here on Victor’s behalf anyway. I cracked my knuckles as the C.O. opened the metal door to the visitor’s room the loud sounds of hundreds of people talking washed over me, forcing me to look around at the mostly happy reunions of the prisoners with their loved ones.
I froze all the noise faded away as my eyes landed on her. She had her back to me as she sat alone at one of the metal tables. I might not be able to see her face, but I had memorized every single thing about her before I had left and I’d know that backside anywhere. Her hair was a dead giveaway too always so shiny and if I touched it, I know it would feel like silk under my fingertips. I should turn around and deny the visit go back to my pushups and try to forget that Adrianna Pastore existed, but my feet moved towards her betraying my common sense.
The truth was I couldn’t deny myself her never could. I had set my sights on her when were teenagers and I wouldn’t stop until she was mine. The shitty thing about that was after I finally had her I got cocky and arrogant and thought I’d never lose her. I wasn’t fucking around when I said I never did a drug, but still I was a junkie when it came to the woman I was addicted to and I could never deny myself a fix. I rounded the table feeling her eyes on me as I took the seat in front of her trying not to look at her just yet knowing that when I did I’d start to feel that burn in my chest that I seemed to get every time I looked into those eyes of hers. I clenched my fists in my lap so that I wouldn’t reach out and take her face in my hands trace my fingers over every perfect feature on her face and kiss her until they carted me back to my cell. I blew out a breath, lifted my head, and succumbed to my own torture as my eyes met hers.
Those sad eyes held me captive wishing like hell that I had never left my fucking cell because the brokenhearted girl that sat before me tore my heart to shreds. She was pale and had circles under her eyes that made her look like she hadn’t slept in weeks yet still she looked stunning. Even on a bad day, she could turn the head of any guy she encountered. I could just imagine what the C.O.’s say when she struts her tight ass through the metal detectors.
“What happened to your eye?” She whispers softly, lifting her hand to touch the bruise under my eye, but drops her hand deciding against it and folds her hands neatly on top of the table.
Thank Christ because I can’t handle her touch not when I’m fucking trapped in a cage.
“What’re you doing here A? Pretty sure told you not to come here no more.” I grind out diverting my eyes to the inmate next to me that’s sharing a laugh with wife and son. I wonder why he’s in the can wonder what choice he stupidly made that took him from his family.
Her eyes filled with water as she shook her head slightly.
“I don’t know what happened to you.” She leaned closer and my eyes instantly dropped to her chest indulging in the tiny bit of cleavage she had on display. Her tits looked twice the size I remembered them to be and I knew tonight when I was lying in bed trying to forget her I’d jerk off to that little glimpse of heaven she was giving me right now.
“Is someone bothering you here? Do you---“
I lifted my head abruptly, shaking my head slightly as I wondered when she would stop having my back. One look at me with a black eye and she was ready to go to bat call a lawyer or a fucking congressman if she had to switch me to a different jail. She was a good girl and I was a lucky son of a bitch to have had her in my corner. I hope the next guy knows how fucking lucky he is and treats her like gold. I hope he has the sense to hang on to her doesn’t blow it like I did.
“I don’t need your help Adrianna.” I clip. “So if you would just get to the fucking point and then be on your way.” I look away from her knowing that I’m hurting her but I don’t have a choice. She has to hate me because I can’t handle her loving me.
“For the life of me, I can’t understand why I don’t hate you. I want to hate I want to hate you so bad, but something inside me doesn’t let me.” She says sounding defeated.
“You should hate me.” I turn my head and lean forward so my cold eyes stare deep into hers. “You should hate me with everything inside of you. You should fucking despise me A.”
“But I don’t.” She whispers her eyes searching hopefully for something as she looks at me.
“I don’t want you coming here anymore; I don’t know how many fucking times I have to tell you. I don’t need you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you can’t live without me.” I said angrily. “It’s really not fair to you because I live just fine without you every day.”
“Is that why you let people beat on you? You’re doing so well in here that you’re someone else’s punching bag?” She tilted her chin toward my eye. “Yeah, you’re doing amazing in here.”
“Has nothing to do with you.” I lie every fucking thing I do revolves around her, but she doesn’t need to know that she needs to forget me. She needs to let me go.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you.” She says before looking down at her hands. She remains silent for a few moments before she lifts her head and there are tears making their way down her cheeks. It’s agony watching her cry pure fucking torture.
“Look, whatever you came here for doesn’t matter.” I grip the edge of the table. “You need to leave.” I push back my chair and mentally prepare myself to walk away from her again.
“Anthony there is something I have to tell you.” She cries like full fledge crying now. I don’t get up like I planned instead I remain perfectly still as I look at her expectantly.
“Yeah? What’s that?” I say irritated that I’m still there watching her cry.
“I’m pregnant.” She whispers closing her eyes, unable to look me in the eye.
It’s the strangest thing because for a split second I’m elated and it’s like I’ve waited my entire life to hear those words come from her mouth, but then I realize she’s not having my baby and that realization hits me harder than anything ever before it breaks whatever’s left of my heart.
“I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.” She whispers sadly wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “It wasn’t planned.” She says like she’s trying to ease the blow of her carrying another man’s child.
I’ve really lost her.
“Please say something.” She begs as she stares at me.
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“What the fuck do you want me to say? Congratulations, but you really didn’t have to drive all the way here to tell me you’re knocked up.” I pushed my chair back for real and stood up. I stared down at her at one point of my life I had probably wondered what A would look like pregnant may have even looked forward to it, but looking at her now had exceeded anything I could’ve ever dreamed. My eyes drifted down to her flat stomach and pictured what she’d look like in a few months she was going to be a great mother. I opened my mouth probably to tell her just that but I quickly closed it giving her one final look taking her in one last time before I walked away from her again. The difference this time was that it was the last time I’d walk away because I’d never walk back in to get close enough to leave her again.
“Anthony…” She pleaded as I walked past her headed straight for the metal doors. The C.O. buzzes me into the hallway and I hear the metal doors slide close behind us as we walk the long hallway back towards my cell.
Adrianna’s pregnant. How was I ever going to wrap my head around that?
I step into my cell just as the officer locks me up I turn to him.
“You want to make money? Bet on me.” I say almost feeling sorry for my opponent as I grab the tape and prepare to tape my knuckles. The need to punch something consumes me so does the need to crush someone so he can feel how I do. I know that when I put my gloves on I’m going to be fighting for all the things I let slip through my fingers. My opponent doesn’t stand a chance he’s going to suffer the wrath of me losing the love of my life for good.
Poor Bastard.
Other Books by Janine
The Riverdale Series:
Pieces (Book One)
Blurb
Jake Lanza is one of Riverdale New York’s favorite sons. He owns a tattoo parlor in the small upstate town and prides himself on being a fun-loving, live by the seat of your pants type of guy. He has everything he wants in life, a thriving business, a great family and a best friend with whom he could never live without.
Illicit Temptations (Tempted Series Book 1) Page 30