âYou want me. You canât hide it,â Troy said smoothly
âYour lips are pursed, as if youâre thinking of being kissed. Of kissing back,â he continued. âOf using your mouth for something other than talkingâ¦.â
âPursed lips can also be a sign of attitude,â Venus countered weakly.
He nodded. âOh, honey, thereâs no question youâve got miles of attitude. But itâs not your attitude at work when your lips are full and ripe and parted like that. Itâs another part of Venus altogether.â
Yeah. The empty, aching part that needed to be filled by him. She closed her eyes, desperately trying to relax.
âEven your legs are shaky,â he teased, running his fingers along her thigh.
Her eyes flew open. âI didnât think touching was part of this demonstration,â Venus said between ragged breaths.
âItâs not. I donât have to touch you to know how badly you want me.â He moved his hand again, the tips of his fingers scraping ever so delicately across the curls concealing her womanhood. âThough if I did, I think weâd find out quickly just how much you doâ¦.â
Dear Reader,
Welcome to THE BAD GIRLS CLUB! I think every romance reader has come across a book that has a great âbad girlâ secondary characterâa woman whose story theyâd like to read. But it sometimes seems difficult to envision that slightly outrageous, possibly shady best-friend type as a heroine. Thankfully, in Temptation, anythingâs possible!
I loved writing about Venus Messina in my March 2002 book, Into the Fire, and many readers apparently loved the plucky redhead, too. The problem was finding just the right hero to be her match. When I finished writing my June book, Two To Tangle, I realized Iâd found that heroâTroy Langtree. Because who better to bring down a very wicked woman than an even more wicked man?
This book was such fun to write. Venus is my kind of womanâgutsy, strong, funny, sexy and yet, believe it or not, I think sheâs the most vulnerable heroine Iâve ever written. And what can I say about Troy? I adore him, wicked rogue that he is. The icing on the cake was working with two of my other favorite Temptation authorsâJulie Elizabeth Leto and Tori Carrington. The âbar sceneâ in Wicked & Willing should give you a little taste of whatâs to come.
Hope you enjoy hanging with the bad girlsâ¦.
Leslie Kelly
To Julie, Lori and Tonyâ¦
terrific writers, even more terrific friends! Thanks for making this project such a wonderful experience. And to my readers. Thanks for hanging in there with me for another wild ride.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
âWHAT WOULD YOU SAY if I told you itâs possible youâre the long-lost granddaughter of a millionaire?â
Venus Messina snorted as she twisted the cap off a bottle of Bud, then flipped it into the trash with her thumb. She didnât even look over her shoulder at the uptight old windbag whom sheâd dubbed Mr. CollinsâTom Collinsâsince that was his drink of choice. He sat at the end of the bar and had been trying to engage her in conversation since the moment he arrived.
Granddaughter of a millionaire. Right.
Lemme guessâ¦my Granny is Miss Manners. Cause everyone can see Iâm just like her. She chuckled under her breath.
The man persisted. ââ¦and his direct heir?â
Though his voice grated shrilly over the noisy chatter in the crowded room, nobody even glanced over in curiosity. It was late into Happy Hour on a hot Friday night in June, and everyone knew Friday nights in an Irish pub were as good a place for outrageous stories and high drama as any movie theater.
Tonight was the third time this week the man had parked himself here at Flanaganâs, her foster uncleâs bar, where sheâd been working until she could find a full-time job. The first night, the man had been so quiet she almost hadnât heard his drink order. Heâd looked as out of his element as a nun in a strip club. Not so much in the way he dressed, though. After all, Flanaganâs catered to a lot of ambitious, wealthy businesspeople who spent their days bowing down to the almighty dollar in one of the many huge office buildings in downtown Baltimore.
No, he didnât look out of place because of his pricey dark suit, which even Venus could tell probably cost more than she made in a monthâor more than she had made in a month when sheâd actually been employed full-time. Instead, it was his stiffness, the upturned tilt of his pointy chin, the way his nose flared in that irritating way when somebody stepped too close. The way he combed one long strand of graying hair over the top of his head to hide a bald spot, because, after all, rich people were much too refined to ever wear something as gaudy as a toupee.
Nope, she couldnât say she liked Mr. Collins, even if he was a damn good tipper.
âAre you even going to answer me, young lady?â
The imperious tone said heâd given up on easy friendliness, something heâd tried last night and failed at miserably. Mr. Collinsâs face looked like it was going to crack from his smileâobviously he didnât use it very often.