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 Wicked Pleasure by Lora Leigh ISBN: 0312368720 Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin Order From Amazon "Grab a fan and settle in for an arousing and deliciously naughty book – Lora Leigh style." Natasha Smith ~ Romance Junkies ~ Read the full review HERE View a Book Peek (TM) http://www.loraleigh.com/boundhearts/wickedpleasure/ Jaci Wright has been running from Cameron Falladay, for seven years now. Fears of the desires he arouses in her, and the knowledge of the relationship he wanted with her spurred her to run, to find a life that kept her traveling the globe and out of his reach. His and his twin brother's.
But now, life has come full circle. A new job has placed Jaci in the Sinclair mansion with Cameron and his brother Chase. And Cam is tired of waiting. It's hard enough to face accepting a relationship with Cam, knowing what he wants, but having the world her lover's brother touches her as well fills her with dread. Gossip, rumors and the tattered tales of juicy secrets fill the society she now moves within. Can she face the world knowing she's a lover to both men, or will her hesitancy and her fears destroy her chance of happiness forever. Excerpt... It was the bad boy party of the year, held outside the small Oklahoma town Jaci Wright had been raised in. The music was a hard, throbbing pulse through the night air. A bonfire burned in the center of the clearing, huge speakers were set up in the back of a pickup, the rocking music pounding through them as the beer and moonshine flowed freely. Bodies danced in abandon, whoops and yells could be heard through the clearing as the scent of burning wood filled her nostrils. It was her first year to attend, not that she hadn't tried to slip in over the years. Unfortunately, Cameron was usually here, and he had never failed to pull her out within the first few minutes. Cameron might well be here now, but his excuse for pulling her out no longer applied. She leaned against the bed of one of the pickups, her beer in hand, and watched the antics of the party-goers. The first faint chill of fall was in the air, the university would be beginning its first semester next week, and the yearly party to celebrate the end of summer was under way with all the excitement and desperate exuberance of the crowd and the vacation that was soon to end. Many of those here had been attending for years and no one wanted to miss out on it. She let her gaze rove over the crowd once again, searching for the tall, dangerous form of her tormentor. Cameron had been pulling her out of this party since she was sixteen, when she tried to attend for the first time. He was always here. In the center of the clearing bodies gyrated, male and female, dancing with abandon. She wondered if Cameron danced when he was here. With his tall, hard-muscled body, the graceful way he moved, he would be a sexual fantasy come true out there. But she doubted he did. Cameron wasn't the type of man to shake his booty for the crowd. She smiled as she lifted her beer to her lips, intent on taking the first drink of the cold, bitter liquid. She had been putting it off as long as she could. As it touched her lips, a hard, well-tanned hand came from behind her, gripped the bottle and held it still. She could barely taste it against her lips, barely felt the icy sensation of liquid. But behind her, the heat of the man seared her back. "Your father would have a cow if he saw you here." Trepidation surged in her stomach at the sound of the dark voice in her ear, the feel of a broad palm covering her hip, and the sensation of being surrounded with heat. He pulled the bottle from her hand and passed it to another woman passing by them. The blonde flashed him a smile and wink as she took it and continued on with her companion. "That was just rude," she told him. She didn't turn, she couldn't force herself to turn. For the first time in all the years she had been teasing and tempting Cameron Falladay, he was finally touching her. His chest pressed against her shoulders, his hand gripped her hip, his arm rested on the side of the truck beside her. She felt surrounded by him. Heated by him. She felt sinfully aware of the hard press of his hips against her lower back and the erection beneath his jeans. "That was common sense." He nipped her ear and she felt her pulse ignite with a heat that burned across her nerve endings. "You shouldn't be here." "I'm legal," she reminded him, suddenly feeling more feminine than she had in her life. "By all of three months?" The rasp of his rough cheek against her ear nearly had her coming undone. She was breathing hard and fast, and she knew it. She couldn't stop it. Her heart was racing in her chest, her thighs felt week, her clit was swollen, her nipples hard. She could feel every inch of her body readying itself for him. "Three months, three years." She shrugged with an attempt at a laugh. "Does it matter?" As she spoke, his arm lifted as though in a signal. Within seconds the pulsing, hard drive of the music eased away to be replaced by a slower, softer tune. It was late, it was normal. The music turned sexier, pounding with sex and excitement rather than anticipation. "Dance with me." Jaci stiffened in shock as Cam's hand tightened at her hip and he drew her back toward the shadows at the front of the truck which had been backed toward the circle of party-goers. She turned in his arms, hands pressing against the dark T-shirt as he stared down at her, his broad chest sheltering her, warming her as his arms moved around her. "Cam." Wonder filled her voice. She had been dying for this for too many years. To be held against his large body, his arms around her. She felt the rasp of his cheek against the top of her head, the sliding of his pants against her bare thighs beneath the short hem of her skirt. He wasn't wearing jeans. He was wearing the camouflage pants he usually wore when leaving for or returning to duty. How long had he been home? It couldn't have been for long. Had he come straight here for her? Just for her? "You shouldn't be here, sweetheart." His hands slid over her back. Up. Down. Then, his hand slid beneath the bottom of her shirt and touched her bare flesh. Oh God. His hands were broad and calloused, warm, impossibly arousing. She could feel the shudders working up her spine from his touch, tearing at the control she had promised herself she would have around him. At twenty-six, Cam was a world ahead of her in experience. A warrior, a conqueror. It was in his dark face, in those light green eyes. "Where should I be?" She lifted her head to him, he with his gaze imprisoning hers as he stared down at her; he swayed to the music with her, rubbed against her. "Safe," he answered. "At home, playing with my dolls?" She suggested sweetly. "Those days are long gone, Cam." His expression was hungry. She teased him, though she knew better. She tilted her hips toward him, then gasped in shock as his hands slid to her rear, clenched the rounded flesh and jerked her to him. "Cam?" Her nails dug into his shoulders as the hard wedge of his erection pressed tight against the sensitive flesh between her thighs. "You can go home with me, or I can take you back to your parents," he rasped. "Which one?" Her lips parted as she fought to breathe, to make sense of this abrupt change in the man she had been flirting with and teasing for so many years. "The party--" "You're not staying here." He backed her against the front of the truck, lifting her until he was wedged fully against her, his hands sliding beneath the skirt to the bare flesh revealed by the thong she wore. No, she wasn't staying here. She stared into his eyes, instinct clashing with feminine need and fear, until she fought to breathe through the sensations racing through her. The party was a catalyst, nothing more. It always had been--since that first party, when she was sixteen. He was the dark visage that moved from the shadows, caught her wrist and dragged her from the date she had arrived with, and had made certain she never stayed. He had taken her home that night. Tonight, he would take her to his home. Since she was thirteen and found him in that truck at the back of her father's land, Cam had been her protector in ways he had never been before. He pulled her to his pickup, unlocked the passenger door, and lifted her to the seat. Before she could turn forward, one hand slid into her hair, the other clamped to her hip, and he was staring at her. His gaze bored into hers, the tension building until Jaci felt as though it would eat her alive. "My house or your parents?" his voice was hard, demanding. There was no question of which. |