Naughty Secrets (Naughty Shorts Book 3)

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Naughty Secrets (Naughty Shorts Book 3) Page 8

by Sarah Castille


  “I never stopped loving you.” He wraps his arms around me. “And I never will.”

  Thank you so much for reading Naughty Secrets. I hope you enjoyed it! Stay up to date on my new releases by signing up for my newsletter at http://bit.ly/SC2news.

  If you’re looking for more Naughty Shorts, keep reading for an excerpt from Naughty Cravings. Fourth in the Naughty Shorts series, Naughty Cravings is about a biker who returns to Revival to claim his long lost wife who just happens to be his best friend’s little sister! It is a story about forgiveness and second chances, with a little biker badness thrown in.

  Naughty Cravings

  by Sarah Castille

  “Daisy.”

  Duke’s deep voice pulls me out of the painful memory. Unable to hold his gaze, my eyes drop to his worn biker boots, and then up over black jeans, a feast of seams in all the right places, the Harley Davidson buckle on a belt riding dangerously low on slim hips, the ripple of abs beneath a tight black T-shirt, the black leather jacket with the Slayer patch, until finally my eyes collide with a steely blue gaze.

  A shiver runs through me. How can he affect me like this? It’s been eight years since our marriage was annulled only one week after our quickie Vegas wedding. I’ve healed and moved on, been married again, and divorced. I’ve lost my dreams and almost my life, and yet nothing has hurt as much as the night he left. I should feel nothing for Duke Randal. He destroyed love for me, and yet, still, my heart pounds.

  “Duke.” I don’t say his name; I breathe it, like I’ve been starved of oxygen for the last eight years and that one word can make me live again.

  “Do you know each other?” Dr. Steadman asks, coming up behind me.

  “Yes. Duke was . . .” My one. My only. My heart. My world. My soul. “My brother’s friend.”

  “How’s Adam doing?” Duke asks, as if it’s only been a few months and not eight years since he abandoned everyone without even a goodbye to become a member of the Slayers MC.

  “He’s on deployment in Afghanistan.” Lost without the friend he’d had since he was three years old, Adam returned to the army after Duke left, and now I’m lucky to see him even once a year.

  Tension fills the room, and Dr. Steadman gives a nervous cough. “I’ll go get those crowns ready, and give you two a moment to catch up.” He makes a hasty retreat, leaving me alone with the man I thought I’d be with forever.

  My skin prickles with awareness, every nerve attuned to the man in the chair. I don’t fool myself into imagining it is anything other than the dry heat of the end of summer stirring an electric current in the air. I am not a naive, innocent eighteen year old girl any more. I’m older, curvier, wiser, my soul battered and bruised, the reality of the world a shadow over the future I imagined in my youth.

  Duke stands and walks across the room to study my painting on the wall, a memory of the day I first realized my brother’s best friend was the hottest guy in school. “I didn’t know you could paint like this.”

  “You didn’t know a lot of things about me.”

  His corded throat tightens when he swallows. “I remember that afternoon. You wanted to jump and Adam wouldn’t let you. He also flipped out when he saw you in a bikini.”

  “Things have changed since then,” I say curtly. “I’ve jumped the Death Drop many times.”

  “In a bikini?” He gives me a cheeky smile. “Adam and I almost got into a fight that day. I couldn’t stop looking at you. Suddenly you were all grown up.”

  So he did notice. Not that it made a difference. I wasn’t grown up enough that would even think that I might have dreams for a future that didn’t include joining an outlaw motorcycle club and spending my days on the back of his bike. “Apparently, not enough.”

  His smile fades. “Daisy. The day I left—“

  “Was a long time ago,” I say, cutting him off. “I barely remember it.” Such a lie. I can recite every word we said to each other, feel every emotion, from excitement to devastation and back again.

  “So, you’re a painter now,” he says, into the silence as I unwrap the sterile instruments.

  “Painting is just a hobby, but Dr. Steadman has been very supportive. He bought seven of my pieces after the last library exhibition. It was my biggest sale.”

  Seven paintings?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Are you with him?” His eyes flick to the doorway, muscles quivering as if he’s about to pounce on poor Dr. Steadman when he returns. “Is that why he bought so many?”

  “He bought them because he thinks I’m a good artist, and he appreciates my talents.” I slam the instruments on the tray one by one. How damn irritating. No one believed in me until Dr. Steadman came along, and I’m not going to let Duke Randal of all people erode my self-confidence. Again.

  “I’m sure he does,” Duke mutters under his breath. “Appreciate. Your. Talents.”

  “I beg your pardon?” If words could be iced, mine would be frozen.

  As if on cue, Dr. Steadman pokes his head into the room. “All caught up?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “No.” Duke jerks his chin at Dr. Steadman. “Give us another minute, doc.”

  “That was rude.” I glare at Duke after Dr. Steadman retreats, mumbling something about getting the benzocaine ready. “He’s a busy man. He’s not at your beck and call.”

  “I need to know where I stand with you.”

  My forehead creases in a frown. “Seriously? You walk away from me and our marriage like I’m nothing. Eight years later you show up for your father’s funeral and you want to know where you stand? Nowhere near me, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I poke him in the chest. “Now sit down so he can get started. The sooner you’re out of here, the sooner we can pretend this meeting never happened.”

  Duke scowls, like I’m the one who did something wrong, but he takes his seat. I reach across him to turn on the overhead light, and Duke shifts in the chair.

  “Jesus Christ. Is that what you do with all your patients? Maybe you should buy a fucking sweater.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You touched me.” He shifts again and I glance down to the bulge below his belt. I’m damn sure it wasn’t that big when I walked in.

  “I did not touch you.” I take my seat on the stool beside him, and fiddle with the instruments on the tray.

  “Yes, you did. Your . . .” He waves vaguely in the direction of my chest. “Touched me.”

  “Shirt?” I unhelpfully suggest, because yes, that bulge is definitely bigger, and yes, I may have accidentally—or, maybe it wasn’t so accidental—brushed my breasts against him. Eight years later, my girls are bigger and more beautiful and I want him to know what he missed out on.

  He grunts in annoyance. “No.”

  “Buttons?” I offer.

  “Not buttons,” he grumbles. “Most definitely not buttons.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” I reach for the ties at my hip, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. “I’m not wearing my button-up shirt. This one just wraps around me. When Dr. Steadman wants a quick office fuck in exchange for a painting that takes me weeks or months to complete, all I have to do is pull this string.”

  “Fucking hell, Daisy. Do not—“

  “Looks like we’re all ready to get started.” Dr. Steadman walks into the room with the jar of benzocaine in his hand.

  “Daisy’s cold,” Duke snaps. “She needs a sweater.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” I stand and reach for the adjustable light, and then, because I am so pissed off at Duke’s caveman attitude, I say in a breathy voice, “How would you like it, Dr. Steadman?”

  Duke makes a choking sound, and his hands ball into fists. “Does she have to be here?”

  Dr. Steadman can’t disguise the amused glint in his eyes. “It’s a simple crown, and since you’ve declined the anesthetic, I can handle the procedure on my own if you prefer. We booked you at the end of the day so we won’t keep anyone waiting if I take longer than
usual.”

  “I prefer,” Duke says, firmly.

  A sliver of disappointment winds its way through my heart, and I can’t help but feel rejected all over again. I thought I was totally over Duke Randal, but my heart hasn’t pounded like this in years. “Are you sure, Dr. Steadman? I don’t mind staying.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Dr. Steadman assures me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Duke sits up in the chair. “Tomorrow is Saturday. Why are you seeing him tomorrow?”

  A blush creeps up my cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your father’s funeral is tomorrow, and the whole town will be there to pay our respects. Or did you forget why you finally came home?”

  He settles back in the chair with a huff. “I didn’t come home for him.”

  Dr. Steadman lifts a curious eyebrow, and I shrug. A tyrant and a bully, Bill Randal had few friends in town, but as the biggest landowner and employer in the area, people kept quiet and put up with his cruel and petty ways. The Randals were the family in Revival, and it wasn’t worth the risk to challenge their king.

  “Say hi to Jay,” Dr. Steadman calls out as I make my way down the hall.

  “Jay?” I hear Duke’s rumble of anger. “My brother, Jay? Why would she say hi to Jay?”

  “If he won’t shut up, just use the laughing gas,” I call over my shoulder.

  Maybe I should take a shot before I go. Heaven knows I could use a laugh right now.

  Duke is back.

  And I hate that I want him all over again.

  Want to read more? Naughty Cravings is available here.

  Don’t miss the next book in the Naughty Shorts series! Subscribe to my newsletter for notification of new releases, sales and giveaways: http://bit.ly/SC2news

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  About the Author

  After graduating from law school, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Sarah Castille, practiced law on the West Coast and then in London, England for many years. She obtained a Masters degree in law and traveled extensively before returning to Canada where she decided to trade in her suits for pajamas and write novels about hot, sexy alpha males and the women who tame them.

  Sarah writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Her books have been published by Samhain Publishing, Macmillan and Sourcebooks Casablanca, and have been listed as Publisher’s Weekly’s Top Ten Picks and Best Summer Reads, Amazon’s Best Romance Books of the Year, RT Book Reviews Top Picks, as well winning the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Literary Fiction and numerous reader’s choice awards.

  Sarah lives with her husband, three children and a variety of friendly forest creatures on Vancouver Island. She is very easily distracted and loves hearing from readers.

  Subscribe for Sarah’s updates and never miss a new release, sale, or giveaway: http://bit.ly/SC2news.

  For more information:

  www.sarahcastille.com

  Also by Sarah Castille

  Legal Heat

  Romantic Suspense Series

  Legal Heat

  Barely Undercover

  Burnout

  Redemption

  Sports Romance Series

  Against the Ropes

  In Your Corner

  Full Contact

  Fighting Attraction

  Strong Hold

  Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club

  Biker Romance Series

  Rough Justice

  Beyond the Cut

  Sinner’s Steel

  Chaos Bound

  Ruin & Revenge

  Mafia Romance Series

  Nico

  Luca

  Rocco

  Naughty Shorts

  Contemporary Romance Series

  Naughty Desires

  Naughty Wishes

  Naughty Secrets

  Naughty Cravings

  Club Excelsior

  Erotic Sports Romance Series

  Yield to Me

  Hold to Me (coming soon)

 

 

 


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