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This was no sexy mistake.
“I want you,” she said.
She didn’t touch him. Or act desperate or scared or tough.
“I know exactly where we are and who I’m with. I want you. I would like to have something good happen tonight. Something I choose. I would like to remember this day not for losing an opportunity, but for taking the opportunity to connect with someone I like. Who I admire.” She grinned. “Who I think is really hot.”
He grinned at her in return as he pulled her down onto the bed.
“This doesn’t have to be the worst New Year’s Eve ever,” he murmured. His mouth teased her lips, then started a downward trail as his hold on her tightened.
She pushed herself against him. An unmistakable message. His answer was in his arousal, in his low moan.
Oh, yes, this was sexy—and definitely not a mistake!
Dear Reader,
How fun to do a threesome for Blaze®! No, not that kind of threesome. Three short stories all in one book, which is more fun to write than you can imagine. I hope you enjoy it!
It all kicks off on New Year’s Eve. Three sexy, spirited women all hoping their lives will change after a career-making audition for a hot new Broadway show. All three lives do change, but not in the way any of them dreamed.
The sparks fly when each encounters a gorgeous man.
Detective John Greco… Duty bound and forced to face the family that betrayed him. Only actress Bella can make things right.
Dr Flynn Bradshaw… Off for a much-needed vacation from his residency until he crashes into dancer Willow.
Colin Griffith… An Englishman who turns to his best friend, singer Maggie, when his brother goes missing.
All three relationships deepen as the clock ticks past midnight to bring them not only a new year, but a new life…together.
Happy holidays, and as always, much love,
Jo Leigh
About the Author
JO LEIGH has written more than forty novels since 1994. She’s thrilled that she can write mysteries, suspense and comedies all under the Blaze® banner, especially because the heart of each and every book is the love story.
A triple RITA® Award finalist, Jo shares her home in Utah with her cute dog, Jessie. You can chat with Jo at her website, www.joleigh.com, and don’t forget to check out her daily blog!
SEXY MS. TAKES
JO LEIGH
Once again, this is for Debbi and Birgit,
who, as always, have my back.
1
“TAXI!”
Yet another Yellow Cab passed Bella Lacarie, this one stopping half a block up for an older, well-dressed man. She kept her curses soft but vehement as she fought the urge to look once again at her watch. She wasn’t late. Yet. But the traffic was insane. Yes, it was New Year’s Eve Day, but it wasn’t technically a holiday until tonight, and that meant midtown was a mad mix of jostling pedestrians and unruly vehicles all coated with black slush.
Another cab came, numbers lit, and this time she stepped right into the gutter, threw her right hand in the air and whistled with her left. The combination worked, and the taxi pulled up, spraying her coat with a fine mist of mud.
“520 Eighth Ave,” she said, climbing in, then immediately spilled the entire contents of her tote bag on the floor. She would not take this as an omen. For all she knew, spilling an overloaded huge purse was the best luck ever. Still, it was hard not to sigh as she bent to collect her belongings.
Just as she picked up her hairbrush and lip gloss, she heard the driver’s door open and a man yell, “Get out!”
“What the hell?” came a high-pitched, accented voice that had to belong to the driver. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Fear froze Bella as she listened to the scuffle.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!”
Oh, God, that was still the driver. The taxi rocked. She reached for the door handle, but before she could grab it, the cab shot forward, throwing her back.
She stilled where she landed. If she sat up, the assailant would see her. He had a gun. He’d shoot her. But she wasn’t all that well hidden, and the floor was big enough to hold tote bags, but not bodies.
Okay, she had to breathe. Stay quiet. He’d get where he needed to go and then run away, because the cabbie would certainly call the cops, right? So no reason to panic. Especially if she couldn’t identify the man behind the wheel.
The cab turned a sharp corner, sending her and everything on the floor into the door. She squelched a cry, but not completely. Oh, God. The only good sign was that she wasn’t seeing a montage of her life flash by.
He sped up, cursed, then said, quite calmly, “This is Detective Greco. My car’s been disabled on Church and Leonard, it’ll need a tow. I’m currently in pursuit of—”
Bella bolted upright. “Detective?”
The car swerved into oncoming traffic and the detective cursed her roundly as he struggled with the wheel. “What the hell?”
“You’re a detective? A police officer?”
He looked at her in the mirror, his brown eyes wide, then he cursed again and took a hard left that sent her back down onto the seat.
“Hey!”
“Where’d you come from?” he asked.
“I was here,” she said, sitting up again, “when you hijacked the cab.”
“Great. Jesus. Just great.”
“I’m not thrilled about this, either. Let me out.”
He said nothing, just stepped on the gas, narrowly missing another car.
She clutched the seat. “Detective! Let me out.”
“Can’t.”
“What? You have to. You can’t take an innocent person on a car chase.” Besides scaring the crap out of her, she was pretty sure this was illegal. She stared at the back of his dark head, wondering if she should try to knock him out, although that might get them both killed. “Did you hear me?”
“If I stop, I lose ‘im.”
They drove way too close to a black SUV and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for impact. Seconds later, she opened her eyes. “Can’t you radio for help?”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “I will. I just can’t lose him. Hold on.” He took a sharp left, cutting off two other cars, and throwing her against the door.
She groaned at the force of the door handle jabbing into her side. That was going to be a nice bruise.
“The scumbag is going to jail if it’s the last thing I ever do,” he muttered. But at least he flipped open his phone.
“I don’t need it to be the last thing I ever do. Pull over.”
The detective didn’t seem to hear her. “He’s right over there. In the old Caddy. Bastard isn’t even stopping at the lights.”
“Detective