Lucy Hudson likes to watch. She’s made a successful business out of photographing cheating spouses - but now someone is watching Lucy.
No innocent wallflower, Lucy has a reputation and a body that drives men wild. But lately she doesn't want any of them. Not even her work turns her on. The only man she desires is tough-as-nails detective Nick Dante who is sent to keep her safe. Burned too many times, Nick's had enough of women like Lucy - but that doesn't mean he doesn't want her in his bed, albeit temporarily.
Lucy is more than willing to accommodate his every fantasy. Until the heat is turned up and emotions get involved.
Can two people who've sworn off love find what they're really looking for? Or will their appetites drive them apart forever?
Genre: FICTION / Romance / ContemporaryThe woman was young, blonde, and a little too plastic to be called pretty. Dressed in a red lace teddy and nothing else, she leaned forward so that her large breasts spilled onto the man's chest. He lay on the bed, entirely naked, and caught one of her lace-clad nipples in his mouth. The woman moaned.
Or so Lucy imagined. She couldn't actually hear the lovers, but she could see everything as if it were happening right there in the dark room of the apartment she'd rented for the week.
Her camera lens focused on the mole on the left of the man's groin. Click. Moles were good. Just in case the face shots didn't work out, moles or birthmarks always framed their man beyond doubt. Beyond doubt in the wife's mind, that is.
Lucy zoomed out to get a photo of the entire scene. John Mollino, forty-five, Bellerae resident with a trophy wife and a Golden Retriever he walked every morning—just the dog, not the wife—sat up and plunged his hands into the bra cups of the woman's teddy. Her breasts were too large even for his broad palms. She arched her back into him and with one swift movement, he tore the flimsy fabric from her body with a magician's flair. Voila.
The next few minutes were a blurred frenzy and Lucy doubted she caught anything on film that the trophy wife would find useful. She packed up her camera and tripod just as Mollino's rotund body wobbled in climax. Usually she got aftermath shots as well, but not this time. In fact, not for the last six months on any job. Photographing cheating husbands as they bonked their latest bimbo never turned her on anymore.
She didn't know why. Ever since her best friend, Abbey, had left town to live with her fiancé in Stanton, she'd felt like she was missing out on something. She had no idea what. Maybe she just missed Abbey. Whatever the reason, it was getting kind of irritating.
