Scandalous Moves Series Book 2
Have you ever made a daring move? That’s the concept behind the Scandalous Moves series by bestselling and award-winning author, Deborah Grace Staley. In each of these red-hot reads, you’ll see strong, driven women do something out of character that shakes things up in their carefully controlled lives. Through the upheaval, they’ll learn that some chances are worth taking because they’ll realize a life well-lived consists of possibilities and grand adventures. Even though there are sometimes failures, they just make the successes all the more sweet.
If you like your romance novels with sexy heroes and scorching hot sex scenes, this is the series for you! All the Scandalous Moves novels are also available in audio format. Skillfully read by the fabulous Samatha Summers, they each include bonus scenes, not in the ebook. Warning: have a fan handy so you don’t overheat!
Maybe you’ve made some Scandalous Moves of your own. Share your stories on Facebook and Twitter using #Scandalous and be sure to tag me @debgstaley (Twitter) @deborahgracestaley (Facebook and Insta).
Here’s an excerpt. Happy reading!
Jaye Baxter stared out at the darkened expanse of the ocean as she sipped another glass of chardonnay. The silvery reflection of the moon on the water mesmerized while the wine and soft piano music left a mellow feeling in their wake.
A cool breeze lifted her hair and the strands whispered against her bare shoulders as her sundress teased her knees. She glanced down at her new high-heeled sandals, also never before worn, and smiled. She always wore heels. They were her one concession to femininity. But these shoes were not the least bit business-like. The sales clerk had called them fuck-me heels.
Smiling, Jaye shook her head and sipped the last of the wine. She almost felt like a woman on vacation instead of a woman on track to become the first female general manager in major league baseball. Tomorrow, she’d again put on the masculine, drab clothes that by design helped her blend into a man’s world; but tonight, she’d try to do what she’d promised her dad and sit outside on a gorgeous evening. And since she was here, she might as well have a look around.
The late hour had sent most of the resort’s diners to their rooms, where she should be as well. She poured the last of the wine into her glass and noticed the mostly deserted tables. A few couples slow-danced, some businessmen and women sat at the bar. A man near the end of the bar lifted his glass and smiled. Jaye quickly turned away, but his image stayed with her. Tall, lean, dark, classically handsome in that chiseled, long-nosed, generous mouth kind of way.
She glanced back at him. He smiled and looked away, rotating his glass on the bar. Real subtle, Jaye.
She downed more than a sip of her wine and looked again. Damn it. Three looks left no doubt, so what the hell. Maybe it was the wine, but she looked her fill. Why not? He wore leather loafers, ass-molding gray slacks. At his wrist there were a couple of black leather bracelets. He had wavy, black hair and a sexy scruff on his angular jaw. A diamond earring twinkled in the lights. Yeah. He would definitely do.
Jaye set her wine glass down and smiled to herself. Now, she wouldn’t have to lie to her dad. She’d left the room, sat outside, had dinner and a drink, and had checked out a hot Latin guy. Mission accomplished.
After signing the bill, she stood to go to her room, but found herself toe-to-toe with the hot guy from the bar. “I hope you’re not leaving,” he said, his voice deep and laced with an accent. “It’s early yet.”
Her four-inch heels put her at eye level with several inches of skin above the buttons of a black shirt stretched tight across sculpted pecs and wide shoulders. When she finally met his gaze, she found they were a startling pale green.
“Hello,” he said.
“Um, hi,” Jaye managed.
“May I buy you a drink?”
Jaye glanced at the empty bottle of wine on her table. More alcohol wouldn’t be advisable. “I was just leaving.”
“Perhaps you’d consider a dance before you go?” If temptation had two legs, it would be this man. He held out his hand. “One dance,” he coaxed.
One dance? Like one piece of cake and the craving would dissipate, right? Without fully thinking it through, Jaye placed her hand in his. A zing of electricity buzzed up her arm then made its way to other parts of her that hadn’t been zinged in a while. Shit.
“Please, you’re wounding my ego.”
“You look as if I’m escorting you to your execution.” On the dance floor, he took her in his arms, and they began to move.
“Sorry,” she managed as she began to absorb the effects of him holding her close.
“Do you salsa?” Without waiting for her response, he began moving to the driving tempo of the song. Jaye shook her head and stood motionless as she watched him swivel his hips. He put his big hands on her hips and with slight pressure, got her moving. “Soft knees. Yes. There. You’re a natural.” He took her hand, leaving the other in place, as they moved together. Jaye felt like something alien had taken over her body as they glided across the floor. “Beautiful,” he said. “I think you have danced the salsa before.”
“No,” she began, but losing concentration, stumbled and stepped on his foot. “Sorry.”
With a finger at her chin, he had her looking back into his stunning eyes. “Never look down.” They found their rhythm again. Her skirt swirled around her knees. The music, the heat, and the man stirred her blood. She felt alive and so feminine dancing with him. And have mercy, was dancing with him hot.
The salsa ended, and after a smattering of applause, the band played a slow song. Without asking, he pulled her closer. Pressing her hand to his chest—his deliciously hard chest—he trailed his fingertips down her arm. In her heels, she could just press her cheek against his neck. She inhaled. He smelled like heaven. His woodsy, earthy musk scent combined with the wine she’d drunk had her more than a bit off-balance. She could be in deep shit here. Jaye Baxter never lost her head. She made a living around built, sexy athletes—built, sexy, and often half-naked-in-locker-room athletes. What was happening to her?
“What is your name?” he whispered against her ear. “Jay—um,” she cleared her throat and lied. “Jade.” In something like super slow motion, Jade’s hand moved to his shoulder, around his neck, and then that vixen’s hand explored the skin exposed above the several buttons undone on his shirt.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
Ah, the Latin charm. “How many women have you used that line on?” she asked.
“You doubt my sincerity?”
He seemed so taken aback that she found herself apologizing. “Sorry.”
“I’ve been watching you since you came in, trying to get up the nerve to approach you.” Jaye turned her head away, but he positioned himself so she had to look at him. “You don’t believe me?” He sounded genuinely surprised. Jaye lifted her shoulder in response. “You appeared so serene and beautiful sitting there alone.” He trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek to her jaw. “And a bit sad, I think.” He traced a finger to her chin. “When you poured the last of your wine and signed your bill, I knew I had to take courage and come to you, or I would lose my chance.”
“To talk with you . . . dance with you . . . hold you.”
“And?” he repeated, a frown marring his handsome features.
“You only wanted to talk and dance?” She deliberately left out the “hold you” part.
He flexed his hand on his back. “I find I want much more than I should as I have not yet offered you my name.”
“So . . . give it to me,” her inner vixen murmured. And look at that, her lips pressed right up against his neck.
He held her closer. Getting more fully into the role of Jade, she tipped her head back, scraping her teeth against his jaw. “Well?” she said against the corner of his mouth, wondering at her boldness. The anonymity she’d created by not giving her real name had freed something inside her. Something she’d analyze at some point, but not now when his lips were so close.
“Matteo,” he said, his lips brushed hers as he spoke.
“Matteo,” she repeated, continuing the motion. She nipped his lower lip then touched the spot with her tongue. His arm tightened around her, and he made a low sound deep in his throat.
She bumped noses with him. “Kiss or talk?” she said softly.
“Talk. When I kiss you the way you should be kissed, I do not want an audience,” he said.
“Oh,” she breathed, imagining a private, intimate encounter with him. Desire shimmered across her skin and settled in her long-neglected good parts.