Just a little setup for you. The hero, Bill Santiago, is a sexy CIA Agent who is investigating the disappearance of an archeologist and a possible connection to a Mexican terrorist group. The heroine, Deanna Vasquez, is the daughter of the missing woman, but she has a love/hate relationship with her mom, who abandoned her years earlier.
Bill and Deanna travel to Mexico together to try and put an end to the possible threat against both her mother and the United States. Along the way, Bill and Deanna find unexpected danger, namely, a threat to their hearts as love blossoms between them.
As for this short excerpt, if it isn’t hot enough where you are today, today’s Thursday 13 may change that, so you are warned that what follows is a little spicy and for a mature crowd. If you are not over 17, please do not continue. And yes, I am a tease! Please don’t be angry with me for that.
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The last thing Deanna was feeling was tired. Anxious, nervous, needy would have probably been better descriptions of her emotions at that moment. Especially the needy part. She needed to feel his arms around her. She needed to hear that hesitant chuckle of his and see the dimple when his uncertain grin dared to emerge. She wondered how it would feel to have the weight of his big, beautiful body pressing her into the mattress. Surrounding her with the kind of comfort she had not ever experienced before in her life.
Since she wasn’t the kind of woman to just sit back and wait for life to come to her, she went to him. When she stood barely inches from that body that she craved, she reached up and laid her hand along the side of his neck. Traced his cheek that was rough from a sandpapery evening beard.
“I’m not that tired, Guillermo.”
“Please don’t call me that. I stopped being that person a long time ago,” he replied, but didn’t move away.
She understood. Guillermo was the abandoned little boy he had shut away deep inside him. Bill was the strong and capable man he had become.
“Bill, will you come to bed with me?” she asked, stroking her thumb along the line of his jaw.
“Direct, aren’t you?” he replied, but responded by laying his hand on her waist and applying gentle pressure to draw her close.
“Neither of us is the kind to dawdle or make excuses. Why start now?” she challenged, inching her head up, which thanks to the heels brought her lips near his.
He chuckled and the dimple emerged. With a shake of his head as he brought his other hand up to cradle her cheek, he said, “Some things are worth dawdling over.”
To prove his point, he brushed his mouth across hers and began a slow and careful and oh-so delicious exploration of her lips that had her leaning into him, wanting so much more. When she opened her mouth, he gave her that, dancing his tongue along hers, inviting her to play.
She answered his demand, tasting him. Savoring the textures and nuances of his marvelous mouth and lips. Pressing her body to the hard muscles of his, her hand resting on that magnificent chest. Slipping beneath the edge of his tuxedo jacket to find the hard nub of his nipple beneath the smooth slick cotton shirt.
She laid her hand over it, cupping his pectoral and he followed her lead, raising his hand to cradle her breast. Drawing a lazy circle around the puckered tip beneath the satin of the gown until she moaned and covered his hand. Pressed it tight to her because she wanted more.
Wetness erupted along her sex as he took her hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it gently. Each tightening pulsed through her body, escalating passion.
He released her mouth only long enough to say, “May I taste?”
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