by Julie Leto
He gripped her around the waist, spreading his fingers so he could feel her skin so hot beneath his. He inched his thumbs upward, teasing her sweet, round breasts. Her chin dropped and her tiny tortured moans fired his lust.
“Want to leave?” he asked. He could feel her moist warmth against his thigh, could see the sharp tightness of her nipples. Her lids had dropped, but not entirely. He watched as her pupils dilated with pleasure.
She wanted him just as much as he wanted her—just like before when they were too young and too stupid to know better. Only now they were old enough to know that you take what you want when you want it—or you might lose your shot forever.
She splayed her hands on his chest, tugging gently at his chest hair. “Leave? Not right this minute, no.”
She inched upward, pressing her sex against his body so that her sweet, wet lips taunted his hard cock. Frankie filled his lungs with air, hoping to keep himself still enough to do this right.
He countered her attack by stretching to capture her breasts with his mouth. He flicked his tongue over her pebble-hard nipples, loving the hot, salty taste of her skin. She tilted her neck back and sighed, the sound deep and arousing. Could he make her come right here? Right now? With only his tongue and lips? Did he want to send her spiraling so soon?
She rocked and writhed atop him, sealing their bond with slick need. Dios, he ached to push inside her, feel the hot heat of her flesh encasing his sex, milking him, squeezing him, tugging him toward the ecstasy he hadn’t experienced in way too long. Was she still tight or would her woman’s body coax him deeper, right to the sweet target that would make her scream his name? He bit and suckled until her tiny, pleasured cry squeezed him from the inside out.
He grabbed her hips, loving the blistering slide of her body over his. With her hands on the iron headboard, she pulled herself completely up, repositioning her knees on either side of his face. He grinned up at her.
“Mi vida, you are so hot. I have to taste you.” He eyed her hungrily, then wasted no more time before slipping his tongue inside her.
She nearly bucked off the bed, so he braced her with one hand on her bottom and the other on her breast. He kneaded and plucked and licked until she came, her pulse surging against his tongue.
Almost instantly, she pushed away, panting, and if he wasn’t mistaken, softly cursing.
“Marisela?”
She shook her head, her hair spilling across her eyes in damp streaks. When she spoke, her words shot out on a series of panted breaths. “Frankie, you always could make me lose my mind.”
He swallowed, loving the flavor of her in his mouth. God, how he’d missed that taste. He leaned forward and took her hand in his, then pulled her back on top of him. “The power is mutual.”
He stretched to the opposite side, reaching over the edge of the bed. He couldn’t wait one more minute. Unable to reach the pants he’d tossed on the floor, he spat out a venomous, “damn.”
The curse cleared the cloudiness from her eyes. “What?”
“I can’t reach the condom.”
She grinned, a little too forced for his liking, but Frankie wasn’t going to let her amusement slow them down. She shifted so he could move, then wrapped her hands around his left wrist.
“I can’t let you go too far away, Frankie.”
He smiled, then performed the needed gymnastics to reach the jeans without leaving the bed. He didn’t realize what she’d done to his wrist until he heard the all-too-familiar metal click and felt cold steel press against his skin.
He dropped the rubber.
“What the fuck?”
Marisela vaulted off him, her panties reclaimed. She slipped them on, then reached for her T-shirt and gun while he tugged and cursed, a noisy clatter renting the air.
He watched her intently, somewhat relieved when she strapped the holster on, but made no move to remove her piece.
Forcing himself to calm down, he decided to revert to charm. “Okay, great joke, vidita. I can do kinky if that’s what you want.”
She tugged her jeans over her hips. “Frankie, baby, I want to try kinky with you more than you know.” She grabbed her jacket from the floor and punched her arms into the sleeves. “But not tonight.”
He laughed, hoping the slightly crazy sound covered the desperate metal clanks of the handcuffs. “Why not? We got all night. I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, Frankie. You’re definitely not going anywhere. Not until tomorrow morning.”
“I have court,” he said, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Ten o’clock. Courtroom B. What’s this about, Marisela? You don’t work for Alberto no more. And I haven’t jumped bail.”
She shook her head, rubbing her hand over her mouth as if she needed to ease the vibrations of their kisses. No matter how this played out, Frankie knew she hadn’t faked her desire. No way, no how.
“This one was personal,” she said.
She whipped out her tiny cell phone, punched in a few numbers, then spoke in Spanish to the person on the other end of the line.
Yes, I found him. No, you won’t lose your house. Yes, he’s home. In the apartment. No, I need a few minutes.
“A few minutes for what?” he demanded.
She flipped the phone shut and shoved it in her back pocket. She took a single step toward him, still well out of reach, and her face changed. While her cheeks and lips were still red and swollen, her eyes cooled. No more volcanic fire, spouting from deep within. Now, she was all business.
“I bought you some time, okay?”
“Time? For what?”
She shook her head and turned to the door, her fingers dancing over the knob as if she was reluctant to leave. “Time to power down.”
¡Coño! Enough was enough. Frankie raged against the handcuffs; the old, rusty headboard couldn’t hold him for long.
The minute his traitorous ex finally tore open the door, he shouted her name. “I’m going to get you for this.”
She had the decency to turn and face him, though he had to stretch to meet her icy gaze. For an instant, he thought he spied regret in her eyes, but before he could speak and milk her remorse into release, she smirked, gave him a subtle salute in true las Reinas style, then disappeared into the night.
*********
About the Author
By all reports, New York Times bestselling author Julie Leto was a sweet child once…somewhat shy, preferring to play quietly in her room making up stories rather than running around outside with her three brothers. However, being raised in a loud, Italian/Cuban-American household did have its influences and Julie discovered her inner tough girl. That’s probably why most of her heroines kick serious butt. She’s sold over forty books to four publishers—all featuring strong, confident women and the super-sexy men they drive to their knees.
Like Marisela, Julie was born and raised in West Tampa and still lives close enough to the old neighborhood to visit her old haunts from time to time. Most often, though, her life is busy with writing, homeschooling her daughter and catering to the needs of her spoiled dachshund and haughty lynx-point Siamese. Like the intrepid heroine of the Dirty books, Julie also has a wide range of relatives all within driving distance—but that's about where the similarities end.
Readers can find excerpts of her current and backlist books at http://www.julieleto.com/ or visit her both on Facebook and as @JulieLeto on Twitter
Contact Information
Website: www.julieleto.com
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/readjulieleto
Twitter: www.twitter.com/julieleto
Blog: www.plotmonkeys.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Setting a book in a city I’ve visited only three times in my life (two of those times I was just playing tourist and not really paying attention to the details) was a challenge. Luckily, I absolutely love Boston and pouring through pictures and maps and notes to refresh my memory was not a chore. Sp
ecial thanks go out to my consummate tour guide, Bill McDunough, founder of BostonPrivateTours.com and his amazing driver, Larry Constanzo, for my crash course in Boston history, lore, and layout. Forest Hills Cemetery wasn’t even supposed to be in the book—but they made me fall in love. I also thank Boston residents Marley Gibson and Barbara Keilor for answering my many questions about everything from the life cycle of apple trees in the Northeast to the proper way to talk about JP. Their insight, knowledge, and humor was invaluable.
A special thank-you to the moms at Carrollwood Elementary school—especially Melissa, Annett, Christy, and Jeanine—who listened endlessly to my tales of woe during the writing of this book and never once slapped me in the face and told me to “snap out of it.” Friendship like this is hard to come by. Same goes for the ladies of the Tampa Area Romance Authors (TARA), particularly the stalwart writers in the Book Challenge, who cheered me on during every stage of this book’s production. Writing is a solitary pursuit, so having the support of such amazing women is invaluable.
Which leads me to the Plotmonkeys—Janelle Denison, Leslie Kelly, and Carly Phillips—and my critique partner, Susan Kearney, without whom I could not function—as a writer or as a woman. You are my sisters, my friends, my colleagues. You all know what went into writing this book and I couldn’t have done it without you.
Last but not least, I must acknowledge my amazing family, who for the first time in twenty-something books, finally saw what a true ugly deadline is and not only lived through my madness, but also celebrated the completion of this project with a trip to Hawaii. Mahalo, from the bottom of my heart. Second, my parents, Sam and Nilla, and brothers, Chris, Tim, and Jason, for encouraging me all those years ago when I said I wanted to be a writer, for buying all my books, for giving books to clients and talking me up at every opportunity, caring about my progress at every step—best illustrated by Jason challenging me to go home and write when I was visiting him in the hospital. (No more of that hospital crap again, okay?) I also couldn’t have made this book happen without my sisters-in-law, particularly Joy and Jeannette, who listen to me, read for me, tempted me away from the computer for the occasional lunch out and also understand when I say, “No, I can’t, I have to work.” And to my nieces and nephews who remind me how much fun life can be. And of course, my aunts, particularly Anita Durand, for checking all my Spanish and for generally reminding me that family is what life is all about.
Copyright Information
eBook Copyright Bookgoddess, LLC, 2011
eBook Cover Art Pat Ryan Graphics, 2011
First published by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Print Copyright by Book Goddess, LLC, 2006
eBook Cover Photo RomanceNovelCovers.com
All right reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Author.
Table of Contents
Main Menu
Dedication
Dear Reader
Copyright
Other Works by Julie Leto
Dirty Little Secrets ( Sexy Suspense)
Dare Me (Sexy Suspense)
Phantom Pleasures (Sexy Paranormal Romance)
Dirty Little Secrets (Excerpt)
Talk Dirty to Me (Sneek Peek)
Afterword
About the Author
Contact Information
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Main Menu
Table of Contents
Main Menu
Dedication
Dear Reader,
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Afterword
Other Works By Julie Leto Dirty Little Secrets (Sexy Suspense)
Dare Me (Sexy Suspense)
Phantom Pleasures (sexy paranormal romance)
Dirty Little Secrets (Excerpt)
About the Author
Contact Information
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Copyright Information
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Main Menu
Dedication
Dear Reader,
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Afterword
Other Works By Julie Leto
Dirty Little Secrets (Sexy Suspense)
Dare Me (Sexy Suspense)
Phantom Pleasures (sexy paranormal romance)
Dirty Little Secrets (Excerpt)
About the Author
Contact Information
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Copyright Information
Table of Contents