My Sinful Temptation by Lauren Blakely

My Sinful Temptation by Lauren Blakely

Author:Lauren Blakely [Blakely, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Dog Press


The sign beckoned in flashes of ’50s-style neon.

The Purple Zebra was off the Strip, a bar known mostly to locals, and it wasn’t crawling with Columbos. That was how John had put it when he’d texted me the info earlier, which I took to mean it wasn’t a cop hangout, or maybe just that it was free from other detectives who would buttonhole him with “just one more thing.”

It was a perfect spot to talk. To swap stories. Maybe to have a heart-to-heart.

As much as I wanted to fast-forward to whispering sweet nothings—and, oh yes, I did want that—I also was bursting to share my news.

As I opened the door to the bar, I took an inventory of my emotional state, which had been doing a good imitation of a pendulum for the last twenty-four hours. Tonight, I was excited and nervous, and nervous and excited.

But as soon as I stepped inside, scanned the room, and spotted him, I was simply ready.

Ready for my date with the sexiest police officer in Las Vegas.

I’d seen him in gym clothes, in plain clothes, in a suit. Tonight, though, was my new favorite look on John Winston—dark jeans and a storm-cloud-gray Henley that hugged his chest in all the right places. Dear God, did it ever show off his biceps as he rose and walked toward me, his eyes on mine the whole damn time.

The hungry way he stared at me sent a shiver down my spine.

He set a hand on my arm and brushed my cheek with a kiss.

Who knew my cheek was an erogenous zone? It must have been, the way this man turned me on with the simplest of kisses.

“You look amazing,” he said.

That word.

It was tossed about until it didn’t mean much. It could describe that sandwich, this hairstyle, that nail color.

But from John, that word felt wholly real and powerful, and a little bit dirty too.

Which I liked.

“So do you.” I wasn’t prepared for how good it would feel to say that aloud. To finally give voice to all the attraction that had been bubbling for months.

For more than a year.

He set a hand on my back. It felt possessive as he walked me to a booth and gestured for me to sit down.

None of this was strange to me. I understood restaurant booths and was familiar with manners, had even experienced them in similar situations.

But not with John. This felt like a whole new side of him.

A part of him he was letting me see at last. That he wanted me to see.

He didn’t want to be John, the kickboxing buddy.

He wanted to be John, the man I was going home with.

Because I was sure that was where this night was headed.

“Martini?” he asked.

“That sounds perfect,” I said. “Especially since I have exciting news.”

He lifted a brow in curiosity. “Martinis go well with news. Good news, I trust?”

“I think so.”

He signaled the bartender, placed our order, then turned to me and prompted, “So . . .”

“I got the craziest call about an hour ago .



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