Wicked
Thing by Angeline Kace
September 2013
BOOK SUMMARY:
Carmyn
Rafferty witnessed the aftermath of her mother's affair. She learned at a young
age not to trust anyone. Especially not your spouse. So she's planned. She's
planned every detail of her life: who her husband will be, what their careers
will be, what their lives will be like. All to avoid the pain of infidelity.
Dallas
Brown lives a life all his own. He doesn't do relationships, he doesn't care
what anyone thinks of him, and he doesn't live up to anyone's expectations but
his own.
When
Carmyn's fiancé cheats on her, it sends her into a whirlwind of one-night
stands with the most infamous player on campus. She can't seem to stay away
from this tough guy and his dangerous motorcycle. Everything about him is the
complete opposite of who she'd planned to fall in love with: tattoos, dark
stubble along his jawline, and hair that brushes his shoulders.
As
Dallas and Carmyn begin to fall deeper and deeper into each other, they learn
that love can truly be a wicked, wicked thing.
An Excerpt of Wicked Lovely
DALLAS
I shoot some darts with the guys,
losing some, but winning mostly.
Carmyn looks over at me a few times,
always looking away when our eyes meet. She’s watched us play most of this last
game, so I grab the darts out of the board and walk over to her. “Play me.”
She tries to hold back her smile. “I
don’t have any cash on me.”
“Then if I win, you kiss me.”
She looks me up and down. “What the
hell.” She shrugs. “And if I win…” She studies me as if she's not sure what's
worth my price. “You have to teach me how to drive your motorcycle.”
The crowd roars with a loud,
“Ooooohhhh!” and she’s grinning like a god damn magician. That’s a good one.
She’s gotta know I don’t let anyone drive my bike but me. Everyone knows it.
It’s my baby. But I’m confident I’ll win. She’s dancing tonight like she’s
reached a perfect buzz level—drunk enough to let loose, but not too drunk to
fall ass over face. And on the point-oh-five percent chance that I do lose,
it’ll get her on my bike, spreading her legs to straddle the leather and steel.
No matter how much I’ve stuck to my self-imposed rule of “no chicks on the
bike,” that alone might be worth the small risk.
But shit. To let her drive it. I just
don’t know. That’s a lot. “You know I don’t let anyone drive it, right? Hell, I
don’t even let the ladies on for a ride.”
She grins, again challenge accepted.
“Well, you know I don’t go around betting to let just anyone kiss me, right?
And I doubt this is anything less than a once in a life time opportunity.”
It only has a single seat, so I won’t
be able to be on there with her to help her drive it. I specifically asked for
the single 1939 Harley Davidson seat during the build. Every detail of this
bike was thought through.
Vick’s glaring at me from the sidelines.
She’s tried on numerous occasions to talk me into taking her for a ride. Even
going so far as to offer sexual favors, or incentives as she calls them. Which
of course I could never accept. She’s gonna be pissed.
“Do it. Do it!” the guys start
chanting.
I’ve never seen her play when the
brothers get a game going. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her watch much of our
games before, either. And that pussy of an ex-boyfriend of hers has never had
the balls to throw any money down. Shit. I gotta do it. I present the darts to
her. “Do you wanna start, or shall I?”
The crowd whoops, and Ava runs up and
hugs her. “I’m so proud of you,” she yell-whispers into Carmyn’s ear. Carmyn
pats Ava’s arm and then steps forward, wrapping her fingers around the darts in
my palm.
I curl my hand, catching the beveled
darts between our fingers. “Do you know how to play?”
“Outer ring is double, inner ring is
triple. First to zero wins.” She yanks the darts out of my hand when I’m too
stunned to do anything but let them go.
Shit. Is she trying to hustle me?
She walks back to the line we’ve taped
on the scratched hardwood. It’s sexy as hell seeing her walk over there like
she owns it. That doesn’t mean she’ll win, though. My shot is straight and
accurate. Even if she does know how to play, I doubt she’s better than me.
She shoots pretty well. I’m surprised
why she never plays more; she could win a shitload of money from these drunk
clowns.
Still, I should win this round. Carmyn
has one hundred nine points left, and I’m down to fifty-four. I could hit a
triple eighteen, but I can’t win on the first dart because I’ll appear too
eager. And I can’t win on the third and final dart of this round because I’ll
look like a chump. I survey the board and do some quick math, figuring out
where I have to hit to get the numbers I want from each dart. I shoot the first
dart and hit a single four.
The guys cheer.
“Only the inner bulls eye is left,”
Nate says. He’s keeping score.
“He’s got this,” Randall calls.
I do. I look over at Carmyn and she’s
holding back a smile, shaking her head. “Nope. You’re not gonna hit it.”
I’ve been avoiding that the whole game.
She doesn’t think I can hit it. I wet my lips. That kiss is mine. I throw the
second dart and it sinks into the center of the board.
I raise my fists into the air and hop
on my toes while the crowd cheers.
Carmyn’s jutting out her jaw and
shaking her head.
I move the couple of steps over to her,
taking my time. “I’ve come to collect what’s mine,” I warn her.
“Right here?” She glances around at all
the bystanders.
“They’re all invested now too. They’re
not about to look away now.” I drop my voice. “Better make it good.”
She swallows, hesitating.
“I believe this is yours.” I hand her
the last dart in my hand. “And this is my mine.” I cup her face in my hands
before she can think anything else, and I kiss her.
Her lips pucker, but I’ve worked for
this, so she better give me more than that. I open my mouth slightly and she
mirrors me. My tongue strokes her upper lip gently. Hers reaches out and
caresses mine. When she pulls her tongue back to stroke again, I open my mouth
to a full kiss. Our tongues run along the other’s, tasting, taking in the firm
but giving sensation as they meld together and then pull apart.
The room is loud around us, but I tune
everyone out. I’ve kissed a lot of women before, but Carmyn’s is more than
that. From her breaths mingling with mine, to the delicate way she tilts her
head. I knew the bet would be worth it.
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