Shades of Desire: 10 Sweet & Spicy Romances

by J. A. Coffey

  Shay folded her arms across her chest. "Why? Do you want a baby?"

  Good question. And after everything, he wasn't even sure. "I'm not going to say that I don't want a baby."

  "We're both so caught up in our jobs. It wouldn't be fair."

  "I'd do it if you want to."

  She sauntered back to him and sat on his lap. Hugging her arms around his neck, she kissed his face. "That means everything," she said, her eyes misting.

  "I don't want this to ever come between us again." He wiped her lone tear. "I don't want anything to."

  She rubbed her nose across the back of her hand. "It's up to us to not let it."

  "True."

  "Let's make a pact," Shay said.

  "Okay." He prayed this deal came with a lifetime of sex.

  "From now on, our marriage comes first."

  "Done."

  "We'll fight hard to stay happy."

  "Done."

  "We'll be more spontaneous and go out on dates."

  "Done."

  "We'll communicate better."

  Dylan nodded. He'd already vowed to do his best. "Done."

  Shay's hands went to his shoulders. She traced them through his shirt. "We'll have a baby when we're both ready."

  When the time came, he would embrace it. Adjusting Shay on his lap, he cupped her jaw and kissed her mouth. "Can we go home now and practice?"

  "Done," she said.

  *****

  Shay wanted Dylan. Emotions on overload, she needed to release the valve on her fiery passion. God, she was happy. Their marriage had been tested. And they'd passed. No. It was bigger than that. They'd opened up in a whole new way. It had taken almost losing each other to realize how much they needed each other.

  She attacked him the second they got home. Her tongue hungrily mated with his. Like wanton newlyweds, they ravaged each other mercilessly.

  Marriage wasn't easy. The hard was what made it all worthwhile. Who didn't want someone to share life's insanities? Who didn't need someone to believe in them? Her hands caressed his wide back. Their tongues unleashed an onslaught of feelings that invaded their souls.

  They needed a bed. Now. She broke the kiss and gazed into the depths of her husband's wondrous eyes. So beautiful. And he looked so in love. "Take me," she said.

  Dylan carried her to their bedroom and stripped off her clothes. He spread her neatly on the bed and sat down beside her. With his smoky blues eyes, he ransacked her naked perimeter. He leaned over and gave her a deep, compelling kiss. Shay's nipples hardened. Her knees clutched together.

  Dylan put his finger in his mouth and licked it. He rolled the wet tip over her puckered nipple. She felt a stab between her legs and let out a soft moan. She couldn't help it.

  He cupped his hands over her breasts, molding them into his palms. He massaged her fullness, pressing, rolling her nipples between his fingers. His head dipped and his mouth took over.

  Her body bucked with pleasure. She was so hot, so wet. Oh, God. His tongue came dangerously close to that part of her that ached for him. She muffled her groans, gulped for air.

  Her hands grabbed his hair as his head traveled south. Every inch of her longed for his touch, begged for it. Lurid sounds escaped her throat. He spread her legs and his masterful tongue flicked over her. Omigod. Her eyes rolled back into her head.

  He pressed her thighs down and gave her a tongue bath. Her lower body lifted right off the mattress. His hands anchored her butt while his mouth drove out more whimpers.

  Dylan's fingers joined the party. The sensations were surreal. Her legs braced his head to keep him from stopping, keep her from falling into the abyss. "You like that?" His tone was sexy personified.

  Shay went beyond desperation. She held on as long as she could because it felt so freaking good. "Yes," she cried, jamming her hips into him.

  When his mouth stopped abruptly, so did her heart. What the... She practically screamed aloud. He went back to work on her breasts, but that's not what she wanted.

  He peeled off his clothes and climbed over her, resting his full weight on top of her. With a severe look, he stared into her eyes. Hooking her leg over his arm, he spread her wide. Dylan entered with one long stroke.

  She hissed as her man filled her completely. God, she loved how it felt, how he felt. She swallowed hard. "It's our last night of Booty Camp," came out breathlessly.

  "Who said?" Dylan pumped his body with controlled measure.

  She matched him stroke for sumptuous stroke. Maybe Booty Camp was ending. But they weren't. She looked forward to the future, to shifting gears, growing their family. And who said she couldn't have it all? What if she started her own business from home? With today's technology, anything was possible. Oh God. His strokes came harder. So did his breaths.

  She wrapped him against her, nuzzled his baby-soft hair. Dylan's moans grew wilder, louder. She lifted her husband's head and forced him to look at her. "Love me tonight," she whispered, piercing him with liquefied eyes.

  Dylan pushed up on his arms. Her hands went to his biceps, and she caressed his hard muscles, the manly tattoo. His emotional gaze tore into her heart. "Tonight and forever," he said, leading them to a new chapter in their lives.

  The End

  About the Author

  Diane Escalera

  Born and raised in the Bronx, NY, Diane Escalera moved to Puerto Rico when she was sixteen. There, she met and married her husband, and they later moved to South Florida with their infant son. Diane worked in banking for many years, but her greatest joy has always been writing, ever since she began writing short stories for her beloved grandfather. Now living in coastal North Carolina, Diane is still married, has two grown children and a super cute dachshund she can't get enough of. She writes contemporary romance and is published with Kensington Publishing and Lyrical Press.

  Diane loves to hear from readers. Email: DEscalera@DianeEscalera.com

  DianeEscalera.com

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  Other Books by Diane Escalera

  The Right Temptation

  Latin Heat Trilogy, Story Two

  Playing With Destiny

  Latin Heat Trilogy, Story Three

  Dangerous Desire

  HIS BEDPOST QUEEN

  By

  Lena Hart

  the cunning mistress...

  Athena Lewis is a mistress of deception. She's savvy with a computer, has a sharp mind and an even sharper attitude. Except when it comes to "Davie," the only man who's ever made her feel safe. But to protect the only family she has left, Athena must embark on a mission that goes against everything she believes in-and that includes using the last trick she has left. Her body.

  Royal Courts co-founder David Carrone has worked hard for what he has. As the illegitimate son of a notorious crime boss, he makes it his mission to distance himself from that world-and those he once called friends. Yet when his past comes back in the form of smooth curves and raw passion, David is immediately brought low, putting his thriving young company, and all that he's worked hard for, at risk.

  With David's trust betrayed and Athena's "mission" compromised, they both set out to right some wrongs while playing a game that can only end with them losing their hearts.

  Dedication

  To Shauna and Elizabeth for being my second and third eyes-your feedback and support are invaluable...

  To Thama and San for being my first and last-and special thanks to San for answering all of my techy questions.

  The Bedpost Queen, commonly known as the Queen of Spades, exhibits a mastery over herself...and her men.

  Prologue

  Fourteen years earlier...

  "You don't fool me, Tena."

  Tena pulled the red-and-white striped straw from her lips and glanced up at Davie. Usually, she would have a small joke or wisecrack for him, but tonight she didn't feel much like smiling.
/>   "What?"

  "That," he said, nodding toward her drink.

  She glanced down. Of course, he would suspect that she had poured something a little stronger than soda in the tall, red and white fountain cup-which she had. But still...

  "It's just soda."

  His dark brow lifted slightly. "I thought you didn't like soda."

  She shrugged. "Tonight I do. I'm thirsty."

  With that simple remark, she returned her attention back to her straw. Normally, she followed everything Davie told her, or at least she tried to. But now that he was leaving, she didn't have to listen to a damn thing he said.

  Davie slid into the booth beside her and effortlessly seized the cup from her grasp.

  "Hey!" She glared at him, not in the mood for his heavy handedness tonight. She didn't care if this was his father's pool hall-or that he was the part-time manager. She wanted to be left alone with her drink.

  He took a sip from her straw then turned those brilliant gray eyes on her. "Who gave you this?"

  "Luke."

  His frown deepened, and he glanced over at the pool table where Luke and the rest of the Acerra brothers were playing. Being the youngest and only female in their all-male crew, she had to work double to make herself fit in as "one of the guys." With her usual baggy cargo pants and hoodie, she managed to pull it off. Even her favorite black and gray skully hat that hid her long, thin cornrow braids had a slouch to it at the end. But Davie still saw her as the eight-year-old girl he'd met seven years ago. He had a habit of treating her like his kid sister, and depending on the day, Tena usually didn't mind.

  Tonight, however, she minded very much.

  "That's not my first beer, Davie. I've had one before. And vodka too," she boasted, though vodka she hated.

  Davie turned his glare toward her, but Tena held his gaze. She had about twelve ounces of liquid courage in her, and she refused to be intimidated.

  "Well, tonight, you're not having either," he said coolly.

  Tena wrinkled her nose. They were supposed to be celebrating Davie's final night in Vegas before he made his way to Stanford-and out of her life for good. The other guys might be feeling celebratory but she wasn't.

  "I thought you weren't working tonight."

  His father's pool hall was notorious for letting things happen that weren't necessarily legal, things even Davie turned a blind eye to.

  "I'm not, but I said no drinking, and I meant it."

  She sighed, barely able to restrain an eye roll.

  Here he goes.

  Ruining her buzz and acting more like her older brother, then her actual older brother. Anthony might not encourage her to drink either, but he hadn't stopped Luke from handing her the tall mug. Her brother had been too eager to get to the back rooms where the "private" table games were being played, and she'd been just fine sitting here, having her own pity party.

  "I can handle my alcohol," Tena said, exasperated. "You don't need to babysit me. Now gimme my cup back."

  His brow rose again as his clear gray eyes flashed with a mixture of astonishment, annoyance, and amusement. Without breaking eye contact with her, he peeled off the lid from the cup, brought it to his lips, and downed the contents. He slid the empty cup toward her.

  She narrowed her eyes. "Why'd you do that for?"

  He belched. "I was thirsty."

  This time, she rolled her eyes then leaned back in her seat, staring at the muted television mounted on the wall above a few gaming machines. Had it been any of the five Acerra brothers, or even her own brother, harassing her like this, she wouldn't have hesitated to tell them to go straight to hell. But she had never talked to Davie like that, and she wouldn't start tonight, no matter how upset she was at him for leaving. She was trying not to think about it, but having him near made it that much harder.

  Davie brought his arm behind her on the booth and leaned toward her. The heat from his large body warmed her more than her baggy sweatshirt.

  "Don't be in a rush to grow up too fast, Tena," he said, his deep voice pitched low. "You're fifteen. You don't need alcohol to have fun. Just enjoy being a kid."

  Tena continued staring blankly ahead. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been a kid. She and Anthony had been taking care of each other for as long as she could remember. She'd been only eight, and newly orphaned, when she and Anthony had joined up with Davie and the Acerras. It was from them she and her brother had learned a few tricks and had gotten good at taking what they needed. Now, they didn't have to depend on anyone for anything, except each other.

  "Besides," Davie added, pulling her out of her thoughts, "you shouldn't be drinking beer from a straw. That's just rude."

  He was trying to make her smile, but she tightened her lips, refusing to give in.

  Loud cheering erupted from the pool tables, and they both glanced at the noise coming from where the Acerras played. A small crowd had gathered around them, and it looked as if the brothers were playing a group of unsuspecting players. Hustling was probably a more appropriate word.

  "Gino's having a beer," Tena muttered absently. She watched as the youngest Acerra took a swallow from a brown bottle, though he could easily pass for someone older than seventeen. Not that she cared what Gino did, but she didn't want Davie to suspect her bad mood had more to do with him than her not being able to have a beer.

  "Gino's different," Davie said, turning back to her.

  "How?"

  "He's an idiot."

  They both shared a smile at that. Gino Acerra did have a tendency to let his temper get him into reckless, sometimes stupid, situations. Though they were a tight little unit, they still argued, fought, and disagreed with each other. Like a real family.

  But Davie followed his own set of rules, and though he might turn a blind eye to the things they did to survive, there was still a code to be followed. Five, if she remembered correctly.

  One-take only what you need. Two-never take from those who have less then you. Three-share with those who have less then you. Four-never lose sight of the end goal. And five...

  Don't be an idiot.

  She hated to admit it to herself, but right now, she was being an idiot. Underage drinking in a room full of strangers wasn't the kind of trouble she needed to attract to herself-even if it was nicely contained in a fountain cup. Having a beer wasn't going to solve her problem or dull the pain of knowing that after tonight, she would never see Davie again. Sure, he'd referenced coming back when he could during his breaks from Stanford, but in her experience, once someone left her life, they left for good.

  "Come on, sweets, let me get you something that's even better than beer." He turned and flagged a waitress standing near the bar.

  Tena watched as the woman hurried toward their booth. "Like what?"

  He glanced back at her with a lopsided grin. "A milkshake."

  Tena frowned, giving him what she hoped was her most indignant stare. "I'm not ten, Davie. You can't bribe me with a shake."

  He cocked a brow at her. "So, you're saying you don't want a milkshake?"

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You know I want a milkshake." He chuckled, and she fought to hide her smile. "Strawberry," she reminded him just as the waitress approached their table.

  "I know," he muttered before turning to the woman and placing an order for one strawberry and one chocolate milkshake. The woman hung on his every word.

  Tena couldn't blame her. With his dark hair and pale gray eyes, Davie was a cutie. It was easy to get lost in that sexy smile of his too. She'd always thought he was the cutest guy in their group. As a young girl, she had always looked to him like part of her family, but now at fifteen, she saw him as more. Her love for him had turned from brotherly to something stronger-something she was afraid to stop and examine closely. But it was different than anything she'd felt for anyone. Even Anthony. Her brother was the only true family she had left, and she loved him fiercely, but what she felt for Davie...no scale could measure.

  An
d soon he would be gone.

  The waitress eventually left them alone, but Davie's attention was focused on someone else. Tena followed his gaze to the golden-haired beauty standing across the room. Alone.

  Tena could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes at the way Blondie batted her lashes at him and gave him her best come-hither look. She had to give it up to Blondie, though-she was good. Glancing at Davie, Tena found he was also sucked in by the other girl's charm.

  He returned the woman's seductive smile, and a sharp stab of possessiveness pierced through Tena. She had no right to feel these feelings, but this was her last night with Davie-and Blondie was trying to take that from her.

  When the woman winked at him and made a small motion for him to come over, Davie removed his arm from where it rested behind her on the booth and began to slowly slide out of his seat. Tena's heart sank.

  He's leaving me.

  To her surprise and horror, she blurted, "Don't go."

  Davie fell into the seat again and stared back at her, his eyes slightly widened with equal amounts of surprise and confusion. Tonight, she was especially glad for her dark brown skin because her warm face would surely be glowing bright red at that moment. He continued staring down at her, and she quickly tried to cover up her humiliating outburst.

  "I don't want you to go to Stanford, Davie."

  His expression softened, and he placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She glanced away, afraid he would see the tears clouding her vision.

  "We've talked about this, sweets."

  "I know," she muttered solemnly. Never miss the money ball, he would say. When a great opportunity like the one he was being presented with came around, never let it slip. "But why can't you just go to school here?"

  He had gotten his bachelors at one of the local colleges in Nevada-she didn't understand why he had to go to another state for his masters. Though California wasn't all that far from Vegas, Stanford was. And for her, living in the neighborhood that she did, it might as well have been across the country.