Eternal Temptationsby Janine Infante Bosco Tempted #6 Publication Date: August 23, 2016 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Mafia, Romance
Amazon (#FREE with #KindleUnlimited): http://amzn.to/2bv8eiF
Synopsis: You’ve seen them through their most illicit temptations.I don’t tell her I’ll be on the road for the next three days, instead I pretend like everything is fine and I’m not about to declare war on the Corrupt Bastards. Ignorance is bliss and for tonight all I want to be is blissfully buried inside Lacey, drowning in the sweetness she possesses. Holding her hand as the needle pricked her skin and marked her flesh provided the perfect distraction for a while but now we’re home and the only thing I want distracting me is her body. I watch her unzip the hoodie she’s wearing, glancing over her shoulder as she lowers it down her shoulders and checks to see if the gauze is still taped to her back, covering her new tattoo. She’s not trying to be seductive but every fucking move she makes has me hard and craving her. Poor girl, I will demolish her tonight so that when I’m on the road, the ache in between her thighs keeps her company, reminding her I’m never too far from her. She turns around and peers at me from under her eyelashes, slowly reaching behind her to unclasp her bra as I lean against the wall and drink in the show she’s about to treat me to. “Go on, girl,” I urge, crossing my arms against my chest as I bite the inside of my cheek and watch the straps slide down her arms and expose her to my hungry eyes. Her thumbs slide into the waistband of her pants, dragging them down her legs before she steps out of them. “No panties?” “Not tonight,” she says, reaching behind her to pull her hair out of the clip. Her back arches and her perky tits salute me. “Give me your phone,” she says, shaking out her long hair so it falls down her back and over her shoulders. Fucking gorgeous. Curiously, I pull my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and hand it to her, watching as she pushes her breasts together and snaps a photo of herself. Bending over, she angles her phone and snaps another photo of her heart-shaped ass. “Damn, girl,” I groan. She straightens up, eyes on me as she takes two steps closer and spreads her legs. Holding the phone with both hands she lowers it so the lens is level with her pussy and snaps another picture. “Don’t say I never gave you anything,” she teases as she tosses the phone back, clarifying I’m not the only one leaving reminders behind. I catch the phone, place it down on dresser before closing the distance between us. With one hand I reach behind me, my ribs are still bruised but I don’t react to the twinge pulling across my midsection as I pull my shirt over my head. “You want something in return, girl?” “Depends what you’re offering,” she says coyly, placing both hands on her bare hips as she winks at me. I don’t offer anything instead I drop to my knees and take what I want and give her what I know she needs, placing my open mouth over the lips of her pussy and pushing my tongue between them. Her hands fall from her hips to my shoulders and her nails dig into my skin as my tongue lavishly strokes her. Starving. Insatiable. I feed off her, lapping at her clit, sucking on it until her hands are in my hair, pulling it begging me to take her over the edge. Not yet. Girl needs to squirm a little. That’s right, grind on me girl. “Blackie--,” she shrieks as I slip two fingers insider her. “Give it to me, girl,” I grunt against her pussy, pumping my fingers to the same beat my tongue is playing. Give me something to dream of when I’m off the grid. Give me something to remember in case I break my promise to you and can’t come back. I feel her tighten around my fingers, hear her cry out in ecstasy as I continue to selfishly take my memory from her, ingraining it to my mind, body and soul as she loses control over my mouth. Her body goes lax after the tremors subside and I slowly pull my mouth away from her. I lift my eyes to hers and lick my lips, savoring the taste to my palette. “Fuck, Blackie,” she says breathless, dropping to her knees as she takes my face with her hands. Leaning forward, her tongue sneaks out tasting what’s left behind of her on my mouth. “You like that don’t you? That’s all you, girl,” I speak against her mouth. Taking hold of her face I pull back and stare into her dark eyes only they’re not dark with demons but dark with lust. On our knees, arms wrapped around one another, mouths fused together the both of us wish tomorrow never comes. But it does. And I kiss Lacey goodbye, promise to come back to her and pray that I do. I love you, girl.
Guided them through their forbidden temptations.
Stuck with them through their uncontrollable temptations.
Owned their reckless temptations.
And survived their lethal temptations.
Who will survive the eternal temptation?
Just when the men of the Pastore crime family and the brothers of the Satan’s Knights MC, think they can rest easy—a danger no one saw coming threatens to destroy everyone’s perfect life.
The men of the mob are resurrected and the boys in leather are back.
It’s time for one final ride.
And for you to ask yourself one last time…
Are you tempted?
NOTE: This is the final book in the Tempted series. Eternal Temptations can be read as a stand alone novel.
EXCERPT: Grace & Victor
It was the early eighties, Maryann and I were barely legal but that didn’t stop us from painting the town red. I had a part-time job at Rosalie’s bakery, making just enough money to spend my paycheck—that’s a lie. I never received a paycheck, those days we were paid in cash, sixty dollars stuffed in a white envelope that Rosalie scribbled my name on. It was enough cash for me to buy a brand new outfit every Friday. I would take my envelope, cross three avenues and make my way to Something Else boutique on 86th Street.
I teased my hair six inches to the sky, applied enough blue eyeshadow to my eyelids, you had no choice but to notice my almond shaped eyes. Lastly, I ripped the tags and put on my silk turquoise jumpsuit. Maryann stole her father’s car out of the garage and picked me up at exactly ten o’clock. Studio 54 was packed, the line to get inside the club wrapped around the block but Maryann grabbed my hand and walked us straight to the front of the line.
“I’m a friend of Val’s,” she told the bouncer guarding the door.
At the time, I only knew Val as one of the neighborhood guys. He, like most of the guys our age living in Bensonhurst, hung around with the old-timers, the made-men, goodfellas—you know the type of men I’m talking about. Gangsters.
I didn’t know if Val was in fact a made man or part of a family, I just knew one day he would be and I understood why Maryann had taken a liking toward him. Who didn’t find that type of man sexy? There was nothing more attractive than the unattainable bad boy who exuded charisma.
The bouncer lifted the red velvet rope and escorted us into the pulsating night club. I remember the song playing as I stepped foot onto the colorful dance floor that lit up as the patrons danced the night away, ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ by the Bee Gees. It was one of my favorites and I wanted to dance so badly but Maryann had other plans, taking my hand as she dragged me across the dance floor to the bar where Val stood. He was surrounded by a bunch of guys, some I knew and others were a mystery. A delicious mystery.
“Order us a couple of Long Island Iced Teas and I’ll be right back,” she shouted over the music.
I sat down at the bar and ordered the drinks, glancing across the bar as she worked her way into the circle and straight to Val. The bartender placed the two drinks in front of me and I waited five minutes before I pulled the little paper umbrella from the glass and lifted the straw to my lips.
I averted my eyes back to the other end of the bar and noticed Maryann and Val had disappeared from the crowd.
“Those things are lethal,” a voice said from behind me, forcing me to spin around on the bar stool and stare at the most handsome man I ever laid eyes on.
The first thing I noticed was his clothes. He wasn’t dressed like the other men. His charcoal gray suit looked as if it was tailor made for him. He opted to wear a black turtleneck under the suit, no button down, collar popping shirt for the handsome stranger before me. He did however engage in the fad of gold chains. My eyes zeroed in on the crucifix dangling from the thick, gold rope chain hanging around his neck. I lifted my eyes to his face and was greeted by a smile I’d never forget.
His eyes drifted toward the two drinks that sat in front of me to the empty stool beside me.
“Sure,” I said, twirling back around to face the bar as he slipped onto the stool and signaled for the bartender.
He ordered a Martini, dry with extra olives as I toyed with the paper umbrella and brought my drink to my lips for another sip. The song changed, Tavares filtered the nightclub with their hit, ‘More Than a Woman’.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” He asked, casually draping an arm over the back of my stool.
“Grace,” I said, mesmerized by the way he stared so intently at me.
“Grace,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue, grinning once he decided he liked the way it sounded.
“And who are you?” I stammered, taking another sip, hoping to calm my nerves. This man had the power to undo me with a simple glance.
“Me? I’m the man who’s going to marry you one day,” he said pointedly.
I nearly spat my drink out.
“That’s pretty presumptuous don’t you think?” Or cocky depending on who you ask, I added silently.
He grinned at me as he lifted his hand and ran his index finger down my cheek.
“Watch and see, Gracie,” he promised, dropping his hand but keeping his gaze locked on me. “The name is Victor, Victor Pastore.”
It is so easy to forget those first blissful moments when you meet the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with. Instead, we harbor the resentment life has brought upon us and lose touch of the magic that brought two unsuspecting strangers together.
Sitting across from the man I love for the final time I wonder how I ever let myself become so jaded by the trials and tribulations we stumbled upon in our years together. Why did I let the heartache trump the happiness? Why couldn’t I hang on to all the times he made me smile, all the times I looked into his eyes and knew I was his one and only. Why wasn’t the love we created enough to outweigh the torment of the mob?