I wish I could pack you all up and take you with me, but all I can do is offer up this sexy little excerpt from SEX AND THE SOUTH BEACH CHICASto warm you up! I loved writing Tori and Gil’s story in this book, but I also had a hard time controllling Sylvia as you’ll see from this Wicked Wednesday excerpt.
A little bit of trivia for you — the original title of the book was TORI GOT LUCKY. The GOT LUCKY part is something that happens at the very end of the book and it’s likely not what you expect. LOL!
Have a great Wicked Wednesday.
He was standing by the bar, elegant in a light grey Helmut Lang suit and what appeared to be a Galliano shirt. The dark maroon shirt was open down to mid-chest, exposing muscles sculpted by . . .
Not just a gym, Sylvia thought to herself as she examined him once more. There was something a little rough beneath his understated elegance. She had thought that the first night she’d seen him a couple of months ago. He had caught her eye and that of about a dozen other women as he’d walked into the club.
She’d have to have been dead to not notice him. Tall, dark, handsome and dangerous, he was a Latino Bad Boy who had made heads turn at every event at which she’d seen him since that first night. Initially, her interest had been purely physical.
She had been wondering about the possibility that he would be as hot between the sheets as he was in the latest designer clothes. Busy imagining whether if she peeled off that Galliano shirt, the rest of his chest would be more interesting than the little slice of beef visible from the open gap.
Then had come the realization that he wasn’t just at the social gatherings for a good time. There was the very real possibility he was a drug dealer. And if not a dealer, he was well-connected enough to those with the drugs to be a person who could provide her the kind of information she needed for her investigative report.
Her investigative report. Finally.
She had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time and was pleased she had finally been able to make it happen.
Which was so totally a positive thing considering all the negatives that had piled up during the past week. First, Tori’s totally aberrant behavior and unexpected marriage. Not that Sylvia wasn’t happy for her, because she was. Then, Adriana’s total loss of control, from her reaction about Riley to her current frenzied planning to provide Tori a Very Special Night. Which had somehow spilled over to normally contemplative Juliana who was busy stirring up some super sexy sustenance for that night like one of the witches from Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
With all that upheaval with her friends to worry about, it was nice to know work had taken a turn for the better. It made for one less thing to worry about.
And one possibly enjoyable thing to look forward to, she thought while she sashayed toward her Latino Bad Boy where he sat at the bar, nursing a martini. No reason why she couldn’t mix business and pleasure, was there?
She smiled, pleased with herself when heads turned her way on the walk to the bar. Kismet was on her side. The man next to her target stepped away, leaving an empty stool with her name on it.
Slipping onto the seat, she motioned to the bartender who shot her a smile and removed the dirty glass from before her. “Evening, Sylvia. The usual?”
“Cosmopolitan,” she answered and glanced at her target out of the corner of her eye. “What about you? Can I get you a refill?”
“No,” her Bad Boy replied and in one gulp, downed the remains of his martini.
“What?” Sylvia turned to face him, incredulous at his refusal.
He eyed her directly. Definitely a dangerous thing. His eyes were a dark blue flecked with bits of teal and green. Not what she had expected. Nor did she expect what he did next as he leaned close to her, his big body barely inches from hers. The rasp of his evening beard teased the side of her face when he whispered into her ear, “You strike me as the kind of woman interested in one of two things.”
Sweet Jesus but his voice was enticing. His tones rich and warm and slightly husky. “And what would they be, Mr. . . .”
“Carlos,” he filled in for her. Reaching up with his hand, he laid it in the Vee of skin exposed by the neckline of her silk Dolce & Gabbana dress. The pads of his fingers snagged her skin when he slowly trailed them up and down her body. Definitely the hands of a man who worked hard for his money.
Then Carlos continued with his assessment of her interests. “Women like you either want a fast fuck out in the alley or something pharmaceutical to make their pleasure just a little bit more intense.”
“Carlos, let me clue you in on something.” Sylvia mimicked his actions, slipping her hand beneath the fabric of his shirt and onto his chest. It was smooth, hard and oh so warm, but she didn’t let that distract her. Picking up her head, she raised it until her mouth was close to his ear. “I have no need for the latter and as for the former . . .” She paused, lowered the tone of her voice just one sexy notch and said, “When I fuck you, it will be so painfully and delectably slow that you will beg for the pleasure to end and when it does, you’ll start begging me for more.”
Carlos gave a strangled cough. His hand shuddered before he yanked it away from her.
Sylvia eased from the stool and met his stunned gaze. “Buenas noches, Carlos.”