Spectacular Rascal: A Sexy Flirty Dirty Standalone Romance

by Lili Valente

  Despite good breeding and better training, I tug on my leash all the way down the street to the Hudson River dog run, but Furry doesn’t yell at me. He never yells. He’s a sweetheart who spoils me rotten and buys me beautiful clothes.

  I usually try not to take advantage of his good nature, but with legs as long as his you would think he could move a little faster already!

  Unfortunately, Furry is distracted by the tight new jeans my Cat is wearing. He keeps slowing down to check out the view from the rear or finding excuses to run his hand over her bottom. Finally, she smiles and bats his hand away and I dare to hope our progress might speed up a little.

  But then my Cat turns to give him human kisses, the really close kind where you can’t see what, exactly, they’re licking. And they kiss and kiss for what seems like hours, ignoring me until I wrap my leash around their legs and pull hard enough to make myself gag.

  Finally, my adorable humans notice that I’m turning blue and stop long enough to detangle themselves and apologize. I cut short my “it’s okay” licks to their hands to half my usual duration, but it still takes forever to get to the park. By the time Furry finally closes the gate behind us and unhooks my leash, I’m fit to burst.

  I dash madly across the enclosure, leaping over a pair of unfamiliar bulldogs splashing each other in the water feature, and bound straight to Lucky’s favorite corner of the park. I scan the area, circle the stone fire hydrants, and sniff the ground near the gate where Lucky sometimes waits, but he’s nowhere to be found.

  Spirits crashing, I sit down hard on the pavement, fighting the whimper rising in my throat. I’m so upset that my friend Phyllis doesn’t even need to sniff my bottom to determine my fragile emotional state.

  Hang in there, kid, she says, slapping my paw gently with her much larger one. He’ll be here. He never misses a Sunday.

  My brow furrows. But what if his adorable human is sick? Or on a honeymoon? My humans went on a honeymoon and left me with Aunt Shane for ten days. I though they were never coming back!

  Phyllis laughs and shakes her slightly damp red fur, sending droplets of water flying into the air. There’s no honeymoon in that human’s future, sweetheart. Have you smelled that one? He’s had an ear infection for the past three months. Smells like something died in that big melon of his.

  Maybe he doesn’t know, I say, feeling compelled to stick up for Lucky’s adorable human. You know our people have terrible noses.

  I don’t know about that. But I do know something about you, little miss, Phyllis says with a knowing look at my midsection. The big question is, do your humans know yet?

  Before I can answer, a joyful, miniature pincher bark echoes through the crisp fall morning. Seconds later, Lucky dashes into view, looking like eleven pounds, seven ounces of heart-stopping, well-groomed, deliciousness, and I can’t think about anything but him. I surge into motion, meeting him behind the largest stone fire hydrant, where we kiss and sniff and squirm with delight, proving my adorable humans haven’t cornered the market on effusive public displays of affection.

  But it’s always been like that with Lucky. Since the day we met—moments after I ran away from Aunt Shane the day of my Cat’s wedding—it was love at first sight. And in just forty or fifty more days, there will be puppies with his brown eyes and my light fur, and I will be the happiest Chihuahua in Manhattan.

  How are you feeling, he asks, when we’ve finally settled down enough to keep our tongues off of each other. I’ve been worried about you and the puppies.

  We’re fine. I wriggle closer to him, dizzied by the delicious smell of him. I’ve never felt better.

  But you should have been taken to the vet by now. Lucky nuzzles my neck. It’s been two weeks. I can’t believe your humans haven’t noticed that you’re expecting. What’s wrong with them?

  I pull back with a smile, remembering my surprise. Follow me and smell for yourself.

  I lead the way across the park, swallowing my impatience when Lucky stops to politely sniff a few bottoms and inquire after the state of various friends’ humans and puppies. He’s a wonderful, loyal friend. It’s one of the many things I love about him, even when it makes getting somewhere take twice as long.

  Finally, we arrive at the bench where my Cat and Furry are snuggled up, holding hands and gazing out at the Hudson River, talking non-stop, the way they usually do.

  They never run out of things to say, do they? Lucky observes with a smile.

  I wag my tail proudly. No, they’re wonderful together.

  Like us. Lucky says, but before I can kiss him for being so sweet, he lifts his nose higher into the air, and his ears shiver the way they do when he’s solving a scent mystery.

  Well, well, he finally says, his tail wagging, too. Guess we have a lot of things in common. How long until their puppy arrives?

  I don’t know, I say honestly. I only smelled the change in her scent a few days ago. I don’t think she even knows yet. But I’m so excited for them! I stand on my hind legs, bouncing lightly on my toes. I can’t wait for our puppies to be very best friends, just like my Cat and Furry and I are very best friends.

  Lucky licks my face. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever met. Or tasted. Or smelled.

  I laugh, tempted to tease him for being so smitten. But in the end, I decide it’s more fun to kiss him and nip his neck and let him chase me around the park again and again until we’re both exhausted and ready for a nap in the shade.

  When it’s finally time to go, I promise him that I’ll figure out a way to get my Cat to take me to the vet, swear the puppies will be fine, and kiss him a few dozen more times to give him enough kisses to last him until next Sunday. And as Furry leads me out of the gate and locks it behind him, I hear him tell my Cat that Lucky and I are the cutest little couple he’s ever seen.

  My heart swells with happiness until I can’t help barking out everything I’m feeling. I tell my adorable humans that they are sweet and wonderful and that I’m so thrilled that they found each other and are in love and are having a baby to add to our family. But of course they don’t understand a word.

  But that’s okay.

  There are other ways of showing humans how you feel, and as soon as the new baby comes, I will welcome it to our pack with my softest kisses. And we will all live very happily ever after.

  I just know it.

  The End?

  Keep reading for a free sneak peek of Lili’s

  next serial romance, Love and Ruin, coming in September 2016.

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  Sneak Peek

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  The Moment I Knew

  Ezra

  It’s late, after midnight, and my room is dark like the inside of a tomb. Dark like a night without stars, like a cave where nothing human has ever set foot, just the way I like it.

  But even though I can’t see a damned thing and I’m half asleep and my head is pounding, I know the second the door snicks shut—snuffing out the brief flash of light from the hallway—that it’s her.

  Before I smell her perfume, before she calls my name in a shattered whisper, I know it’s Jenny. And I know I’m not going to be able to say no. No matter what she wants, what she needs, tonight I’m going to give it to her.

  Tonight I am weak.

  “Are you awake?” she asks, her voice thick, sad.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Can we talk?” She sniffs. “Or maybe…not talk? I just don’t want to be alone, Ezra. I can’t. Not tonight.”

  I draw back the covers. “Come here. Lie down with me.”

  In a heartbeat, she’s beside me in bed, curling against my side, her hand slipping beneath my tee shirt to rest on my stomach.

  That’s all it takes, one touch and I’m hard, aching. But I’ve spent most of the past few weeks hard for her, wanting her, dreaming about all the ways I want to take her even th
ough I know it’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong, but as I roll on top of her and capture her lips with mine, nothing has ever felt so right.

  We kiss, slow and deep, like we have all the time in the world though we both know we don’t. Our lives are crumbling. Everything is going to shit and it’s only a matter of time before fate tears us apart, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter.

  Nothing matters except finally getting as close as we need to be.

  I take off her clothes, slowly, deliberately, pressing kisses to each newly exposed plane of skin like a benediction. She is beautiful, sacred. I don’t believe in God anymore, but as I slide Jenny’s panties down her thighs and kiss her where she’s salty and wet—for me, only for me, she whispers again as I fuck her with my tongue—I realize that there are still holy things left in the world.

  There is her body unraveling beneath my mouth, her voice calling my name as she comes, her legs wrapping around my waist as I position myself and glide inside her, finding hope, finding home.

  And for the first time, it’s more than sex, more than fucking. For the first time, I am lost and found, shattered and made whole, destroyed and born again in the circle of her arms.

  And that’s when I know that I’m ruined.

  I never realized that love and ruin had so much in common. But as I fall through the darkness, stripped bare and defenseless, with nothing but the girl I love to keep me from crumbling to pieces, I realize that, for me, love and ruin might as well be the same thing.

  I love this girl, but she will destroy me and I will destroy her right back.

  Before we began, it was already over.

  All over but for the fall.

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  Acknowledgements

  Big thanks to the many creative and talented authors whose books inspire me to play and try new things. Things like breaking the fourth wall, writing a chapter from a Chihuahua’s point of view, and hiding a little something special here in the Acknowledgements. And even more thanks to the readers who devour every word—even the dedication and acks—this one is for you.

  From the text archives of

  Sebastian “Bash” Prince and Shane Willoughby

  Bash: Hey gorgeous, just checking in to make sure you’ll be at poker night tomorrow. I have a proposition I want to run by you while I’m taking your money…

  Shane: Hmm…

  Well, you know I love poker night, but that sounds a little ominous…

  Bash: Nah, not ominous.

  Portentous, maybe.

  Or delicious.

  Or some other word that ends in “shus” that means fun, sexy things. I think you’re going to love what I have in mind!

  Shane: Oh God…

  You aren’t going to ask me to have a ménage with you and Penny are you?

  Bash: Fuck no!

  Jesus!

  No!

  I’m a one-woman man. And Penny would cut my dick off if she even thought that I was thinking about thinking about something like that.

  Which I never would.

  EVER.

  Shane: Oh, good. So glad to hear that!

  I mean, Penny’s a hottie, but you’re not really my type, pumpkin ;).

  Bash: Ha ha.

  Christ, you actually made me blush.

  I can’t remember the last time I blushed.

  Penny just asked me why I’m all pink and now she’s laughing her ass off. She wanted to be the one to reach out to you about this, but I said I could handle it.

  Thanks for proving me wrong, Willoughby.

  Shane: My pleasure!

  So what are you reaching out about? Now I’m really intrigued…

  Bash: You’re a mess is what you are.

  And that’s why you’re perfect for this job. I’m in need of a Gorgeous Mess…

  Shane: A Gorgeous Mess…

  Bash: Yes, a Gorgeous Mess, capable of taking a misunderstood man in desperate need of an image makeover and transforming him into a media darling. All while scaring off the ex-girlfriend determined to ruin his good name and maybe faking a pregnancy if things get really dire. But that’s only if stage one doesn’t go as planned.

  Shane: Faking a pregnancy? What the heck are you…

  Oh, no.

  No, way.

  You’re not saying you want me to…

  Bash: Work for me? Yes! Yes, I am.

  I have a Magnificent Bastard and a Spectacular Rascal, but I don’t have a Gorgeous Mess, Shane. In fact, I don’t have a single woman on the intervention side of things in the event that a male client approaches me in desperate need of our particular brand of assistance.

  Shane: Oh my God. I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified.

  Bash: Be intrigued! And excited! You’ll be wonderful.

  Shane: But I already have a job!

  Bash: Not a full time job. You said yourself that your aunt’s charity practically runs itself.

  Shane: Sometimes, it does, but sometimes I’m very busy raising funds and throwing benefits and changing lives.

  Bash: Which is what you’ll be doing for me! You’ll be changing lives—or at least one man’s life. The guy really needs your help.

  He’s like a big, sad puppy. A big, sad, sexy puppy.

  (Penny told me to add the sexy part so you would know that spending a few weeks making out with the dude won’t be any hardship on your part. And it’ll put a cool ten grand in your pocket! You can’t beat that.)

  Shane: I don’t need ten grand, Bash. You know my aunt left me a very ehem comfortable inheritance.

  Bash: So give the ten grand to charity!

  It’s the work that counts, doll. The good work for a deserving soul who has the right to go about his business without having his good name ruined by a spiteful nightmare of a person who thinks a man ending a relationship is grounds for her to set a bomb off in the middle of his life.

  And who knows, you might even have fun!

  Dating an NHL star comes with certain perks. I’m sure he can get you season tickets at the very least. Or maybe a monogrammed hat. Or mittens. You like mittens, right? I mean, who doesn’t like mittens? They make you feel like a kid again!

  Shane: He’s a professional hockey player? You’re kidding.

  Bash: I’m not.

  Shane: But not for the Rangers, though. Some other team?

  Bash: No, he’s with the Rangers. Why, are you an Islanders fan?

  Shane: No, I’m just…

  You wouldn’t by any stretch of the imagination be talking about Jake “The Dragon” Falcone would you?

  Bash: I am. But I swear everything you’ve been reading about him is a pack of lies. The guy is innocent.

  Shane: snort Like hell he is.

  Bash: No, seriously, Shane.

  I mean, yes, he’s banged his share of starlets and super models, but I verified his side of this particular story myself. After what happened with Aidan and the mob, I’m taking background checks on the clients very seriously these days.

  Jake is being framed. He’s a good guy and he really needs our help.

  I don’t think he has anywhere else to turn…

  Shane: You’re laying it on pretty thick, Prince.

  Bash: The guy is really devastated, Shane. (This is Penny, by the way.)

  I just wanted to let you know that I think you would do an amazing job with this intervention and really make a difference in this man’s life.

  But if you need to say no, I understand. We’ll just have to tell him we can’t help him and wish him luck finding someone else who specializes in taking down evil ex-girlfriends. I’m sure he’ll be able to find someone out there like that.

  I mean, I’ve never heard of anyone who does what we do here at MBC, but…

  Shane: Fine! Ugh! I’m helpless against the double guilt trip.

  I’ll do it. You can fill me in on all the details over cards tomorrow.

 
; Bash: Thank you, Shane! Thank you so much. We really appreciate this. And you’re going to have some extra good karma coming your way, Babes.

  Shane: Yeah, yeah. Make that a bottle of really nice scotch waiting for me at my poker spot. Scotch goes down easier than karma.

  Bash: Done!

  Shane: Oh, and Bash. I want my name to be the Miraculous Mess.

  Bash: Gorgeous wasn’t alliterative enough for you?

  Shane: No. Because if I’m going to get “The Dragon” Falcone out of the public relations shit pit he’s in, I’m going to have to be a fucking miracle worker.

  Miraculous Mess is coming your way Fall 2016!

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  About the Author

  Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.

  These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.

  Lili loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her via email at lili.valente.romance@gmail.com or like her page on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLiliValente?ref=hl

  You can also visit her website: http://www.lilivalente.com/

  Also By Lili Valente

  Fall hard for Lili’s SEXY flirty dirty romantic comedies!

  Magnificent Bastard

  Spectacular Rascal

  Miraculous Mess (coming 2016)

  The complete Under His Command Series is

  Available Now:

  Controlling Her Pleasure (Free!)

  Commanding Her Trust

  Claiming Her Heart

  The complete Bought by the Billionaire Series

  is Available Now:

  Dark Domination (Free!)

  Deep Domination

  Desperate Domination

  Divine Domination

  The complete Dirty Twisted Love Series