Evanne Lorraine
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Teaser Tuesday

February 24, 2009 | Teaser Tuesday

Just for dangerously sexy fans, here’s an unedited excerpt from Dangerous Secrets, coming soon from New Concepts Publishing….

Five years ago, outside Montego Bay, Jamaica

The sound of the loose soil hitting his mother’s plain gray casket kept echoing inside Sam’s head. Pasty hated dirt. She’d kept a clean house. He couldn’t imagine her resting peacefully beneath the ground.

At least, she was next to Pop. Maybe, it would be okay.

She’d told him that’s what she wanted when he’d arranged to bury his father. Patsy said she didn’t give a fig about the casket or flowers–all she wanted was to lie beside Tony for the rest of eternity.

He’d never guessed how soon he would be repeating the same gut-wrenching funeral decisions that had been required to lay his father to rest for his mother.

He’d picked a light gray casket, because Patsy liked simple things. He’d ordered lots of her favorite yellow daisies. He’d asked the organist to play her favorite hymn, Amazing Grace. But, no matter how he tried to fix everything, the whole thing was wrong–so very wrong that it felt like nothing would ever be right again.

There’d been so little time to mourn Pop, and then, less than a week later, his mom. Both of them so dead–so fast–so permanently gone. He hadn’t been able to save either one.

Hell, he couldn’t even cry for them.

He made the trip home with no memory of how he’d gotten there. Yet, he was definitely home, standing at the foot of the main stairs, dry-eyed, not feeling a damn thing, except irritated. He was as itchy, as if an earwig were crawling along the back of his neck.

It was the music, coming from upstairs, the wrong music, a happy pop song that made him want to scream and smash things.

It was Caroline’s boom box playing. She hadn’t felt up to going to the funeral. He’d said he understood, but he’d lied. She was pregnant. What the hell did he know about pregnant women? Still, the music was wrong. She should’ve come to the funeral with him out of respect for his mother–out of respect for him.

She didn’t respect him. That wasn’t news.

Hell, right now, he didn’t think much of himself come to that.

The singer warbled on from upstairs, the music rasping on Sam’s already rotten mood. He took the stairs two at a time, storming into the master suite.

The music was loud, but Caroline heard him,

She didn’t open her eyes, simply smiled a wicked, taunting grin when she spoke. “Is it too much to ask for you to knock?”

“Hell yes, it’s too much to ask. This is my house.”

She shifted, groaned softly, and spread her legs wider for whoever was licking her pussy. “I guess. Though, you couldn’t prove it by me. You’re hardly ever here.”

“You aren’t making this about me. Get the hell out of my bed,” he yelled, yanking the plug on the boom box.

Stopping the music had been a mistake. Now, the room was filled with her breathing and lapping noises and his own pulse thundering.

Caroline shoved herself more upright, pouting prettily. “You’re being mean to me.” The sheet slipped, artfully revealing her full tits. “I was so horny for you. Don’t be mad,’kay? Be a good boy, come on over here and give me some of what I need.”

Still mad as hell, he wasn’t interested in helping some other guy fuck her brains out. But, his cock didn’t seem to be on board with his decision about not sharing. It was already half-hard. “He has to leave then we’ll talk.”

“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” she said with wide-eyed innocence.

Except every chance she got. “Of course not,” he said dryly.

The saddest part of the whole sick scene was that her behavior no longer shocked him.

She flipped the sheet off the bed with a giggle. “There’s no other man.”

For once Caroline had been honest. The second set of legs were slim and attached to round little tush. The limbs were a dark golden brown and they definitely didn’t belong to Caroline. Neither did the dusky rose vulva, swollen and wet, peeking at him.

His cock stiffened to full attention, instantly ready to fuck the new cunt.

Maybe the girl felt vulnerable, because she turned over, exposing high, pointed, breasts with dark chocolate nipples.

His cock obviously didn’t miss the rear view too much–it grew even harder.

Caroline plucked at one of the new girl’s dark tips, provocatively. “Maya’s never been fucked by a man. I told her that you have a beautiful cock. Why don’t you show it to her?”

He wanted to. Hell, he wanted to show her how it felt, stretching her tight little pussy. But then, he made the mistake of looking at her face.

Her big brown eyes were wide with fear.

Clearly, the girl was terrified. His erection sank and slunk away like a stray dog getting pelted by rocks.

Caroline had used sex to manipulate him from day one. The woman didn’t have any moral boundaries. He’d never considered himself a prude, but compared to her maybe he was, forcing a woman–hell, girl–was not something he would ever do.

Temper surged, fogging his vision. He silently said a brief prayer. Holy mother of God, grant me one second of grace. For a few minutes, the anger left him.

He liked sex as much as anyone did. Hell, he loved sex. But this, whatever this sick game between him and Caroline was, it wasn’t about sex–not any more. It was about messing with his head and stealing pieces of his soul until he wouldn’t be fit to call himself a man.

Caroline got off on pushing his buttons. He understood that. But apparently, he still had limits because her latest stunt sickened him. He’d had it with her outrageous behavior and with her. The games ended now.

His anger had ebbed back in, making him speak with low deliberation. “I’m leaving. When I get back, I don’t want to find any trace you ever existed.”

She studied him through narrowed eyes as if gauging how serious he was.

“Do you understand me?” he asked her flatly.

“Yes,” she spat at him.

“That goes for your playmate too.”

The girl actually looked relieved as she scrambled out of the bed, and began retrieving her scattered clothes.

Caroline bounced to her feet, fists planted on her spreading hips. “You’re a fool. I’ve made every fantasy you ever had come true, and you’re throwin’ it all away just because you’re too much of pussy to admit you’re dying to get fucked by two women at the same time.”

“Shut up and go before things get ugly,” he said.

“You can’t just throw me out of here, like I was garbage. I’m your wife.”

“Don’t be here when I get back,” he flung the words over his shoulder on his way out of the room. Afraid that if he stayed there another minute, he might lose it and hit her because deep in his dark heart he knew there was some truth in her words.

If the girl had been willing….

Caroline hadn’t forced him to fuck her brains out–he’d wanted to prove something to himself–had wanted to dominate her. There was no demanding obedience from her, because she pushed faster and harder, stealing his passion along with his self-respect.

He’d been crazy to tolerate her shit for this long. The more he’d let her behavior slide, the wilder she got. They’d been rolling straight downhill from the start.

Of course, he had a ton of excuses for why he’d tolerated her excesses. At first, he’d been shocked, but curious. Hell, he’d been flattered, in a way, by her openness to anything. Then he’d been up to his ass in funeral arrangements. But, the truth was he’d also been avoiding her. Bringing her home had been one of his stupidest impulses. He’d married her knowing that they were headed straight into a bottomless hell of degradation.

Yet, with her being pregnant, even though she’d admitted the baby wasn’t his, he’d wanted to make their relationship work. She was lovely when she wasn’t acting like a slut and the kid sure as hell deserved a break.

Then the nightmare of his father’s brutal murder had begun. He’d gotten through the investigation, the funeral, and the wake. He’d wanted to bring his mom home to live with him. But, He’d been uncomfortable with the idea of introducing her to Caroline, so he’d let things slide. If he’d been tougher–or even better if he’d thought things through before he acted–then maybe his mother would still be alive.

He’d live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

The memory solidified his decision. He dug a roll of bills out of his pocket, leaving it on the foyer’s table where Caroline would be sure to find it.

Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am  

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