Still Hot For You
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Still Hot For You
by Diane Escalera
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Romance
www.lyricalpress.com
Copyright ©2012 by Diane Escalera
First published in 2012, 2012
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
CONTENTS
* * * *
Cover Copy
Want to get your man talking? Give him booty!
Desperate times call for desperate measures. And Shay LaCosta is pretty desperate. She's wrecked her blissful marriage of five years by demanding she and her husband Dylan have a baby. What the hell was she thinking? She knows she was wrong and she's ready to set things right, if only Dylan will let her. Bet he can't shun her Booty Camp offer: delicious, white-hot sex in exchange for what's going on inside his brain.
Dylan may be macho and stubborn, but he really does miss his wife. A little of Shay's pushing gets him past their estrangement and into her web of seduction. She seems to have an erotic week mapped out to perfection, and who is he to complain? Their marriage is meant to be, so they'll fight with each other, and they'll fight
for
each other.
WARNING: Racy Language, Hot Sex, Seduction
Teaser
Shay's heart rate kicked up a notch when Dylan entered her space. She looked at her husband. Poor guy. Worry filled those pretty blue eyes that five years later, still melted her on contact. He looked beat. But gorgeous.
Propped against the doorframe, he watched her suspiciously. His gaze lingered on her snug denim cut-offs. Slowly, his focus trailed up to her white, spaghetti-strap cami that did nothing to hide her erect tan nipples.
Shay held her breath. She titled her head to the side, and her smooth dark hair cascaded in lush waves over her shoulder.
“What's up?” Dylan asked, in a husky tone.
Most days, she had already gone to bed when he got home from work. They rarely saw each other, let alone when Shay was dressed like
that
. “Hungry?”
She stepped into the light so he could see every inch of her sweet curves. Her husband flinched and she knew she'd gotten to him. Good. Because this was what he'd been missing.
Still Hot for You
By Diane Escalera
Still Hot for You
9781616503628
Copyright © 2012, Diane Escalera
Edited by Piper Denna
Book design by Lyrical Press, Inc.
Cover Art by Renee Rocco
First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: March, 2012
Lyrical Press, Incorporated www.lyricalpress.com eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Dedication
To Ivan, my husband and best friend: None of this would be possible without you by my side.
Acknowledgements
A special thank you to my awesome editor, Piper Denna. You may change a word or two or three ... but you always let me be
me
.
Chapter 1
His kiss was slow. Deep. Erotic. Just like she had imagined repeatedly in her head, only this time it was real, and undoubtedly the hottest make-out session of her life. Dylan LaCosta. What a man. She'd burned for his kiss.
This
kiss.
His lips were candy. She licked. She savored his sugar. Her blood rushed. Her cheeks flushed. Her mouth urged him to take her, already. But he didn't. He took his time learning her lips, tasting her tongue.
Her body blazed. Lurid sounds slipped from her throat. He raided her mouth with a carnal need that unleashed her own heat, released her own desperate hunger. Yes. Make love to her. Show her what that hard body could do.
No! Don't stop! Her eyes fluttered open. Dylan's smoky gaze sliced her soul. She clasped her hands behind his neck, persuaded him to kiss her again, kiss her some more. One month. She'd waited thirty brutal days to taste those lips. He wasn't getting them back so quickly.
She took his face in her hands and held him still. Her first kiss was a gentle baby-tap. His eyelids closed. Her second kiss nipped at his sexy bottom lip. He moaned. Her third kiss separated his lips. She found his tongue and masterfully worked it, asserting that she knew what to do, knew what a man like Dylan needed, just like she knew what
she
needed. Him. Inside her. Now.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Damn alarm clock jarred her right out of a blissful slumber. Shay LaCosta glared at the annoying device. Rubbing her bleary eyes, she focused on the big green numbers. Six thirty AM. She whacked the clock to silence it.
She looked at the empty space beside her, the rumpled, cold sheets. Her husband had gotten up early, probably to avoid her. But then, Dylan had good reason.
Shay dropped back into her pillow and heaved a sigh. She didn't have to get up for another ten minutes, to have adequate time to shower, dress and get to work. Normally, she used the extra time to organize her brain, compartmentalize her duties in neat, orderly fashion so everything that needed doing, got done. This girl owned efficiency. If she couldn't do it, rest assured she had someone who could.
Work didn't monopolize her brain this morning. Nope. She thought about the dream—her first kiss with Dylan. Ah. Sweet memories. She couldn't stop her grin. They'd lived a simple life back then. What she wouldn't give to recapture that youthful spirit. She closed her eyes and reminisced, replayed the beautiful dream all over again.
Her ruminations last night must've triggered it. Once again, she'd fallen asleep alone, wishing he had been there, spooning her body, holding her close. She'd prayed that God would give her a sign, show her the way back into his heart.
Maybe the dream held a clue. Her eyelids shut and she went into deeper thought. First time Dylan kissed her ... She knew she'd be with him forever. Now here she was, on the verge of losing him. Five years of marriage. A marriage most women would kill for. A marriage only she could save because she'd single-handedly blown it.
Demanding
they have a baby. What the hell? First off, she couldn't bulldoze a guy like Dylan. So not the whipped type. His opinions counted. Secondly, they didn't need a baby. For two workaholics, life was pretty booked. Still, she'd fought fiercely. At one point, she'd even forgotten why they were fighting. She'd only cared about winning. But she'd lost. Lost the surreal connection she'd shared with an incredible guy.
Her eyes popped open and she shot the clock a sideways glance. Five minutes. She let out a frustrated groan, not because she had to get up for work. Shay loved her job. But she loved Dylan more. Life without him meant ... nothing. She stared at the ceiling.
Do something, woman! Get up off your ass and get back your man!
But how? She dug her head into the over-stuffed pillow. Her gaze swept the contours of textured walls.
Think. Think.
She could handle any crisis at work. Why couldn't she come up with a solution to this problem?
Dylan wasn't making it easy. Obstinate bull! She'd given him that name for good reason. Okay. No point dwelling on the negatives. Like any marriage, they had their conflicts. They had their fights. But they always made up with incredible sex.
Sex. She wished! Maybe if they were talking, they'd be having sex. Maybe if they were having sex, they'd be talking.
She ransacked her brain. Suddenly, she sat up and let out a laugh. At the time, it had seemed absurd ... Her lips peeled a little wider. She'd cried her heart out to her nutty best friend, only to laugh at Erin's wild suggestion.
You and Dylan should go to Booty Camp.
The things Erin came up with. She needed to stay off the internet.
Shay had laughed then. She laughed now. Desperate times called for desperate measures. What if she devised her own version of Booty Camp? Something she and Dylan could do after work. At home. Alone. She needed to open up the dialogue, get him talking again. Her blood pumped a little hotter. Dylan's butt was hers.
* * * *
The garage door squealed as it lifted. Dylan arrived home early, only because she'd called him on his cell and asked him to join her for dinner.
Four months ago. That's when it had all fallen apart. She'd turned twenty-nine and
wham—
life was inconceivable without a baby. Shay knew the timing sucked. What about the career she'd worked so hard for? Not that a woman couldn't have both, but she had always said she'd raise her own kids.
Then there was Dylan, who obsessed over their finances, not that he had to. She had it covered. Don't tell him that. Everything they had, they'd paid for with sweat. He wouldn't have it any other way. Her well-to-do folks could never say Dylan didn't provide for their daughter.
Her heart rate kicked up a notch when he entered her space. She looked at her husband. Poor guy. Worry filled those pretty blue eyes that five years later, still melted her on contact. He looked beat. But gorgeous.
Propped against the doorframe, he watched her suspiciously. His gaze lingered on her snug denim cut-offs. Slowly, his focus trailed up to her white, spaghetti-strap cami that did nothing to hide her erect tan nipples.
Shay held her breath. She titled her head to the side, and her smooth dark hair cascaded in lush waves over her shoulder.
“What's up?” Dylan asked, in a husky tone.
Most days, she had already gone to bed when he got home from work. They rarely saw each other, let alone when Shay was dressed like
that
. “Hungry?”
She stepped into the light so he could see every inch of her sweet curves. Her husband flinched and she knew she'd gotten to him. Good. Because this was what he'd been missing.
Dylan dropped his work stuff on the kitchen stool. He looked at her, his gaze sweeping her up and down again. “You cooked?”
“Uh-huh.” She took in his handsome face. Did he still love her? “Shocking, huh?”
He nodded. “About as shocking as...” His chin pointed at her transparent top. “What is this? The calm before the storm?” His jaw tightened. He looked like he was waiting for a bomb to drop.
“It's just shorts and a tank,” she said, shrugging it off. Underneath, her body felt tingly and nervous. Hopefully, she wasn't making a fool of herself. What if he rejected her?
Whatever
. She had to give it a shot. “I'm just about done here. Why don't you go change while I finish up?”
He stared straight ahead. “Okay.”
She watched him stroll away, his gait strong, fit and purposeful. She didn't want to be angry with Dylan anymore. After months of mulish behavior, she'd rationalized her situation. At twenty-nine, she had plenty of time to start a family. It's not like Dylan didn't want kids. He did. He just had this need to secure their future first. The man showed tenacity, but didn't she love that about him?
While he changed, Shay spread out the meal. She used the good china and lit a line of candles down the center of the table. Dimming the overhead lamp instantly transformed the mood to soft and relaxing. Barefoot, she sauntered over to the stereo and clicked on the CD player, already loaded with atmosphere music. She chose something not too romantic, just a light, melodic tune.
Back at the table, she tinkered with the wineglasses. She straightened a fork, aligned the salad dressing.
“Whoa,” Dylan said from the hallway.
