Dirty Little Secrets
Chapter One
"I remember when you used to stroke me like that."
Marisela Morales punctuated her pickup line by blowing on the back of Francisco Vega's neck. She watched the soft downy strands on his nape spike and knew her luck had finally turned around.
His fingers, visible as she glanced over his shoulder, drew streaks through the condensation on his beer bottle. Up and down. Slow and straight. Lazy, but precise. He toyed with his cerveza the same way he'd once made love to her, and for a split second, a trickle of moist heat curled intimately between Marisela's thighs. For the moment, the part of her Frankie used to oh-so-easily manipulate was safe, encased beneath silky panties and skin-tight, hip-hugging jeans.
Tonight, she'd have him -- but on her terms. The hunter had found her prey. Now, she just had to bring him in.
"I don't remember taking time for slow strokes when you and me got busy, niña."
Marisela sighed, teasing his neck with her hot breath one more time before she slid onto the bar stool next to his. She'd been trying to track the man down for nearly a week. Who knew Fran ... read full excerpt from Dirty Little Secrets ebook
