Romantic Suspense and Thriller


Friday, November 28, 2014

When Michael goes on a photographic assignment to Brazil and fails to return, Kristi and her son fly to Rio de Janeiro, desperate to find him. Instead she finds that during the cold New Jersey winter, her husband has spent his time in steamy chat rooms with Nara, a young woman desperate for attention and involved in the Rio drug world. 

As she searches for Michael in exotic but crime-ridden Rio, Kristy finds herself way out of her league. She turns to Italian-Brazilian Federal Agent Tony Lamazzo for help. As the harsh truth of her marriage brings a dose of reality to her life, she finds the temptation of getting closer to the strong, capable—and totally hot—Tony difficult to resist. She’s in Brazil on the Day of Dead, a day when Brazilians go wild. Why shouldn’t she go wild with Tony, for just one night, before returning home to start the new life alone she’ll have to learn to make for herself? 


She looked up at him. “You were right. I shouldn’t have come to Rio. I’ve landed in such a mess, I...”

Before she could finish the sentence, his lips touched the corner of her mouth. For a second he hesitated, then his lips closed over hers, warm and sweet. She clung to him, kissing him passionately, drawing from his strength, escaping into the feeling of someone caring about her just for now. She pressed up close against him. Everything about him felt good: his strong arms around her, his broad shoulders, his hard, lean body. He responded by holding her tighter and kissing her with more urgency, his breath quickening. The heat of the kiss and the feel of his body chased every thought from her head. She could feel the hardness of his groin and she throbbed with wanting him. Was she really going to do this?

She pulled away. They stood for a second just looking at each other. His eyes were dark with arousal. How could she do this? Omigod, how could she not? The Moroccan-style outdoor sofa looked incredibly inviting and she sunk down into the pillows pulling him down beside her. For a second, she thought it funny that she was the proactive one here.

“You shouldn’t sleep with me,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.  Immediately she wanted him even more. She was totally hot for him. In reply she wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to continue the blissful kiss where it had left off. Her heart raced, her body throbbed. She could feel his heart thudding too.

“Kristi,” With a groan he pulled away. “This is not a good idea.” His voice was thick with desire. For some no doubt worthy reason, he was trying not to do this.

“Why isn’t it a good idea?” she said. She could hear her voice sounding petulant and rebellious and somewhat like her fourteen-year-old son when he was thwarted. Why was she doing this? Maybe because she was hot, so hot, to sleep with him. Burning with longing to sleep with him. Totally wanting to be right down there, right now, in the bed, or on the sofa, or even on the wet tiles, making passionate love to him. 

“Don’t you want to sleep with me?”

He gave her a lopsided smile and raised his eyebrow. Then suddenly he wrapped the towel tightly around her again, kissed her lips hard and quickly, and stood up. He was leaving! “Call me if Josh isn’t back by eight,” he said.

She stood, clutching the towel. Disappointment filled her. The night had been perfect. So amazingly romantic with the rain pouring down around them, the inky ocean crashing out there, a full moon slipping in and out of dark, flying clouds.  “It felt like a dream,” she said slowly. “A super-cool dream about a dream lover in a storm.” She sighed. “You’re ruining my dream.”

“A wet dream,” he said wryly. A flash of lightning silhouetted his dark shape. Thunder crashed. 

“You’d regret it in the morning.”

“If you say so.” She knew she was pouting. How silly was that. She turned her back on him. “Why don’t you just go already?”

“Of course I want to sleep with you. I’m longing to sleep with you. Not sleep. Make love. What do you think?”

Thunder crashed again. As another flash of jagged lightning ripped the sky. She shivered.
“You’re wet. Aren’t you cold?”

“Nope,” she said.

“You better get those wet clothes off.”

She looked him in the eye. “Good idea.” Slowly she pulled off her wet tee-shirt and tossed it into the air. Then she slid out of her wet shorts. Watching his eyes as he took in her body in her new bikini and her silver sandals, she walked over to the balcony railings and stood there. She knew she was standing provocatively, her butt nicely rounded as she leaned on the railing. She was glad the rain shower suddenly stopped. To tell the truth, she was cold. But she hoped that would change soon.

Within seconds, she felt his warm, hard body behind her. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re so perfectly beautiful.”

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