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Gotta Have It
Lori Wilde
Cool, calm and collected is how Abby Archer always thought of herself–on a down day she might even have used the word repressed. Well, not anymore.Not since her fiancé ran off with an exotic dancer. Now it's Abby's turn to try "wild and wicked." But that will take a very special kind of guy, like the one she turned on–and turned down–ten years ago. When she fantasizes, he's still the ultimate bad boy who comes to mind and, luckily, her best friend knows exactly where he is….Durango Creed has been marking time, guiding tourists through the desert until his former teen angel arrives in Sedona, and suddenly he's a rebel obsessed with a cause. He's got an itinerary in mind that will rock Abby's tidy little world–and her first stop is a one-on-one sexual encounter with him!
The taste of him was ripe on her tongue
Abby glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror and literally did not recognize the face reflected there. Large hazel eyes were made more prominent by too much mascara, short tousled hair, cheeks blushing scarlet, mouth swollen and reddened from the heated pressure of Durango’s kiss.
A sex goddess.
A passionate überbabe.
So this was what it felt like…a bold vixen, a passion hound, a wicked femme fatale. She was now the kind of woman men bought naughty outfits and sinful chocolates for. Tonight she wouldn’t worry about what the neighbors might think. Tonight she was a rowdy sex nymph ready, willing and eager to take a big juicy bite out of life.
Emboldened, Abby stepped out into the hallway and headed for the club’s dance floor. But Durango captured her from behind and began to pull her into a long, slow, moist, deep kiss.
Hadn’t she read somewhere about a connection between how a man kissed and the way he performed in the bedroom?
Abby’s heart fluttered. If that was true, she was in for one hell of a fine treat.
Dear Reader,
Last spring my husband and I visited Sedona, Arizona. I was awed by the red rock formations and struck by the incredible energy field surrounding the place. The Native Americans there consider it sacred ground.
There are numerous energy vortexes in those compelling mesas, and if you’re attuned you can actually “feel” the vibrations coursing up from the earth. My mind started swirling. Just imagine making love where the energy field emanates not just from you and your man but also from the strumming force of the earth.
All your senses are intensified and stronger, and they resonate. You’re a tuning fork at perfect pitch vibrating with your soul mate. You two become one with all that there is. It’s incredible. When I felt it, I knew I had to put it into a book to share the experience with my readers.
I would love to hear what you think. You can visit my Web site, www.loriwilde.com, or write to me at Lori Wilde, P.O. Box 31, Weatherford, TX 76086.
Lori Wilde
Gotta Have It
Lori Wilde
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Heather Rae
A very special person who’ll one day soon
see her own book in print.
You’ve come a long way, baby.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
1
“YOU KNOW WHAT you need?”
“What?”
“To get plastered and pick up the first sexy stud who crosses your path. It’s the best cure for those pesky just-got-stood-up-at-the-altar blues.”
Abby Archer arrowed a glance at her best friend, Tess Baxter. They were seated side by side on wooden playground swings behind the church rectory. Abby was still wearing her eight-thousand-dollar ecru Vera Wang wedding gown and matching ballet style slippers, while Tess was dressed in a peach-colored spaghetti strap maid-of-honor dress and opened-toed sandals.
It was only then that Abby realized Tess’s toenails were painted electric-neon-green. She couldn’t help smiling at her quirky gal pal’s choice of polish.
Tess wagged a bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold in one hand, a baggie of sliced limes in the other. “I’ve got the hooch, now let’s go find us some stallions.”
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but honestly I don’t need to get drunk or have a one-night stand in order to salve my ego. Jilting me is the best thing Ken could have done for either one of us.”
“Will you just stop it?” Tess twisted the top off the tequila and tossed it over her shoulder. The lid landed with a quiet plop onto ground still soft with the rare treat of an early-morning May rain in Phoenix.
“Stop what?”
“Making lemonade from lemons. You got ditched on your wedding day. You’re entitled to be p.o’d.”
“Seriously, I’m cool with it. In fact…”
“In fact what?”
Abby lowered her voice, fidgeted with the powder-blue chantilly lace on the hanky she was supposed to have tucked into her pocket for something blue and admitted, “I feel relieved.”
Tess made a derisive noise. “Be that as it may, Ken humiliated you. If I’d gotten stood up, I’d hunt the guy down with a pickax and dispatch his manly parts. Chop, chop.”
“My best friend the drama queen,” Abby said affectionately.
“Hey,” Tess snapped her fingers. “Do you want me to emasculate him for you? I volunteer to be your personal hit woman.”
“I appreciate the loyalty, but I think I’ll let Ken keep his manly parts. He might need them for his future with Racy Racine.”
“I still can’t believe he ran off with an exotic dancer.” Tess took a swig of the tequila, grimaced and bit down on a lime wedge. She extended the bottle to Abby and arched an eyebrow invitingly.
Abby shook her head and waved away the tequila. The swing’s rusted metal chains creaked. “I just never expected Ken to do something so out of character. I mean the reason I was marrying him was because he was stable and predictable and reliable.”
“And because your dad approved of him.”
“That too.”
“You know what? I think we oughta cash in your honeymoon tickets and go on a trip. You already have two weeks off and I’m in between jobs. Let’s do something completely wild and crazy. Like drive to New Orleans and get our tongues pierced.”
“Ouch! No!”
“Come on, I heard it enhances the sexual response,” Tess cajoled.
Abby rolled her eyes. “You think everything enhances the sexual response.”
“Well, if it doesn’t it should.”
“Sex is overrated.”
Tess grinned impishly. “You’re just saying that because you’ve never had great sex.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Tess sighed and ran a hand through her short, spiky red hair. “Jeez Abby, don’t you ever just allow yourself to get carried away by the moment?”
“You know how I feel about letting my emotions spill out of control. It’s undignified and destructive.”
“Come on, tell the truth. Somewhere deep down inside, when you were sleeping with Mr. Boring Buttoned-Down, didn’t you fantasize about an explosive, passionate man who would sweep you off your feet, spirit you away to some mountain top and savagely ravage you?”
“Tess!”
“Just answer the question.”
“Sometimes,” Abby mumbled.
All the time, she thought to herself, and that was why she fought so hard to keep her sexual desires under wraps. She knew from experience the havoc unbridled passion wrought. Dark obsession scared the pants off her.
Tess’s eyes lit up. “Do tell! Is he somebody famous? Or is your dream lover someone you know?”
“I don’t really want to discuss this,” Abby said, but a mental picture of Durango Creed immediately jumped into her head.
In her mind’s eye he looked exactly as he had at eighteen when he had ridden out of her life forever. Black jeans, black leather jacket, black White Snake T-shirt, straddling his Ducati and begging her to run away with him. His ruggedly handsome face had glistened in the moonlight. His shoulder-length ebony hair was windblown, his black eyes deep and penetrating.
And his wicked, wicked smile had promised nothing but trouble.
He’d been the dead opposite of a knight in shining armor on a white charger.
In her daydreams, she longed for him to fulfill the promise inherent in his smile, but in reality, she’d sent him away without crossing that dangerous line. She had not acted on her impulses.
Thank God.
It was the smartest thing she’d ever done.
Or at least that was what she kept telling herself.
“This is the first time you’ve even hinted that you have secret sex dreams,” Tess said. “You’ve been holding out. Fill me in, woman.”
“It’s silly. Illogical. And I should know better.” Abby toed the dirt, staining her pristine white slipper with rich red Arizona soil. She knew she was ruining the shoes, but at this point, who cared?
“Abby, everyone has sex fantasies. It’s normal. Honestly, I was beginning to think you were some kind of freak. It heartens me to hear you have a dream lover.”
“Normal? For ten years? Even when you have a fiancé? It doesn’t seem normal to me. I shouldn’t have been fantasizing about anyone but Ken.”
“If you had been fantasizing about Ken, you would be sitting here bawling your eyes out, brokenhearted over getting dumped.”
“Maybe if I had been fantasizing about my nice safe Ken, instead of some dangerous, long-ago hell-raiser, I wouldn’t have gotten dumped.”
“Omigod.” Tess clapped her hands with sudden glee. “Your midnight man is Durango Creed!”
“No, he’s not,” Abby lied quickly, and immediately had to raise her hanky to her nose to stay a sneeze.
“If your fantasy lover isn’t Durango, then how come you’re sneezing?”
“Because I have allergies.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Whenever you deny your passion, you start sneezing.”
“No, I do not,” Abby refuted her claim and promptly sneezed again.
“See what I mean? If you don’t stop lying about your desires, you’re gonna go into anaphylactic shock. Besides, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, half the women in Phoenix had a jones for Durango.”
“Precisely why I didn’t…I don’t have a thing for him.” Abby sneezed a third time.
“Me thinks thou doth sneeze too much.”
