by Janine Infante Bosco
Publication Date: May 24, 2016
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance, MC Romance
My name is Blackie, I’m the vice president of the Satan’s Knights MC and I’m an addict.
I’ve been trading one addiction for another for as long as I can remember.
I make no apologies for my addictions, nor do I try to hide them.
Until my latest addiction threatens to destroy not just me but her.
For the first time I want to fight the need and not gravitate towards it. I try to deny it and not succumb to it but I’m a prisoner to her purity.
I’m Satan’s soldier, a demon dressed in leather.
She’s an angel, innocent and full of light, she’s my lace.
A temptation so lethal neither of us may survive but, every demon craves an angel.
Guide me to the light.
Take me from the dark.
Give me back my life.
Let me share yours.
They are the selfish words of an addict and they are my truth.
My name is Lacey Parrish and I have a secret, one I’ve tried to deny for a long time, one I’ve tried to spare the world from.
I am a manic-depressive.
Just like my dad.
Some days I’m high on life.
Most days I try to escape it.
People think they know me, they think they see me but the truth is no one knows who I really am. No one sees the real me… a broken girl with a mind that betrays her.
He’s my savior, the man who silences my maker.
He’s my knight in shining armor, the man who puts my life before his.
He’s my leather and I’m his lace.
Two broken souls that have the power to heal one another.
This is our story, an unapologetic tale full of temptations.
A love story called Leather and Lace.
The Beast Unleashed
The bathroom door closed jarring me away from my thoughts and forced me back to reality. I stared at him trying to remember the speech I recited in the car on the way here but the only word that came to mind was muscles.
Tight, sinewy, muscles covered in ink.
It was probably a mortal sin to look like that after having a heart attack.
“You’re staring,” he said as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in front of me.
“So are you,” I whispered.
He bit the inside of his cheek as he quietly assessed me before he nodded.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without jeans or facial hair,” I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s kind of a shock to the system,” I continued, cocking my head to the side. “What’s your excuse?” I asked, running my sweaty palms down my denim clad thighs. I watched him intently, waiting for his bullshit excuse and saw the faintest glimpse of a smile form on his lips.
God, I wish he smiled more.
He shook his head, the smile disappeared and for a split second I wondered if I imagined it.
“Make a man wish he didn’t hit the bottle so hard,” he muttered. “Then maybe I’d remember when you became so bold,” he said, pushing off the wall as he turned and took a seat next to me on the bed.
He thought I was bold.
He had no idea it was taking every bit of courage I had to be here, demanding he see the woman I am and not the girl I was. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so guilty.
I glanced down as his thigh brushed mine.
“Didn’t think I’d see you until I got out of here,” he started, fidgeting with his hands until he finally placed them on his knees and leaned forward. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Thought I scared you off the other day,” he said, huskily.
“I told you once before I’m not afraid of you,” I said, clearing my throat so it didn’t sound so raspy.
He kept his eyes pinned to mine for a moment before letting them dip lower. I tried to follow their path but lost all train of thought when he placed his hand on my leg.
“I owe you an apology,” he said, his massive hand wrapped around my thigh and gave it a slight squeeze before he lifted his eyes back to mine. “So, pretty…” he murmured.
His closed his eyes briefly before blowing out at a breath and standing up. I felt the loss of his touch instantly and automatically stood with him. He crossed the room, putting as much distance as possible between us before he fell back into the chair in the corner of the room and dropped his face into his hands.
“You don’t owe me anything, Blackie,” I blurted. “You saved me once again,” I added.
“I’m not talking about that,” he growled, lifting his head. “I’m talking about the night at the clubhouse,” he clarified.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, closing the distance between us until I was standing in front of him. I would not plead with him not to take back that night.
Not this time.
With Reina’s words playing on repeat in my head I decided the only way for Blackie to accept this thing between us was to remind him of what it felt like to be with one another. Maybe if I reminded him of how it felt when the rest of the world faded and it was just us maybe then he’d think twice about his apology.
“No?” He questioned as he narrowed his eyes. “I took something from you, Lace, something you can’t get back and something I won’t forget. I fucked us both that night,” he seethed.
“You didn’t take anything I wasn’t offering,” I retorted. “I know you think I’m a little girl but I’m not and I haven’t been for a while. You may be my first but you weren’t the first man to touch me,” I ground out. “I’m not some goody two shoes, too prim and proper to get down on her knees because her father is some big bad biker,” I sneered.
“Shut up,” he shouted.
“No! You said you saw me that night, but it was a lie wasn’t it? Because if you did, you’d see I loved every fucking minute of having you. Open your eyes Blackie and take a look, take a good long look,” I dared.
“I see you, Lace, been seeing you for a long time now,” he said, reaching out and gripping my hips. “Don’t tell me to fucking open my eyes because I’m trying so fucking hard to close them and not look at you. It’s a real struggle to tame the beast inside me and not spread you wide and take you every which way a man can take a woman,” he said through clenched teeth. “Trust me, I fucking see you, girl and you’re all woman.”
I licked my lips as I felt something down in the pit of my belly ignite. An animalistic sound escaped his lips, something feral, and oh so fucking hot.
Was the beast becoming unleashed?
His fingers dug deeper into my hips and he pulled me between his legs.
“Sit,” he commanded, pulling me down so that my ass sunk between his thighs. He brushed my hair aside, and I felt his hot breath against my ear as he leaned over my shoulder. “You feel that?”
His thick erection strained and twitched against my ass. A short breath escaped my lips as my back fell against his chest and his arms wrapped around me, pressing me tight against him.
“Answer me,” he demanded.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good, next time you doubt I want you, remember feeling my cock pressed against your sweet ass and know the truth was against you just as it was inside you,” he affirmed, pressing his mouth against my neck. “It’s time for you to open your eyes, angel, time for you to take a good long look at who you’re playing with,” he added as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind my ear.
I closed my eyes, pushing my ass against him as my hands gripped his hard thighs. My body fell into a trance, one induced by Blackie’s words and for the first time in my adult life, sex wasn’t something I needed to rush to do, a game I needed to play catch up on, it was something I craved. I wanted to explore, I wanted to learn, and I wanted to do it all with Blackie.
“I’m a greedy bastard Lacey, got marks on my arms,” he paused, loosening his arms around me. “Open your eyes and look down,” he ordered.
My eyes fluttered open, and I did as I was told, focusing on the track marks on his forearms that were slightly fading.
“Got marks down in my soul too, all proof just how greedy I am,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist again. The tip of his nose trailed down the side of my neck, pushing away the collar of my shirt and his lips fell over my shoulder.
“And this greedy bastard won’t apologize for taking that sweet cunt of yours. This greedy bastard will forever hold onto that, take that shit proudly to my grave…”
His words trailed off as his teeth sank into my shoulder.
“My Lace…” he murmured against my skin.
A temptation so lethal, neither of us would survive.
Maybe I had a death wish after all.
I stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, before I turned around and glanced at myself in the dirty mirror. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wonder why she ever looked at me in the first place. Someone as innocent and pure as her doesn’t belong with a poisonous bastard like me.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a plastic baggie filled with five Xanax pills and slapped the bag onto the counter. I diverted my eyes back to the mirror, glaring at the piece of shit staring back at me.
“Fuck you,” I growled, hanging onto the feeling of self-loathing, welcoming it and encouraging it to overcome me as I slammed my fist against the baggie on the counter. I pounded it over and over again, crushing the pills until they turned to dust. Then I emptied the contents onto the counter, not giving a fuck how dirty and disgusting the bathroom was because, all that mattered was getting my fix.
I was in the zone, anxious for the high that hopefully will come and wash away my thoughts of her.
She is my savior and my assassin.
The one that keeps me from ending it.
And yet, right now I’m slowly killing myself trying to escape the thoughts of her.
Lacey Parrish. Jack’s daughter. His fucking nineteen-year-old daughter who wasn’t even legally allowed to order a fucking drink so why the fuck was she in some bar.
I fought long and hard not to see her as a fucking woman, not to take what I so badly wanted. But like everything else in my life…I take and I take until there is nothing left.
She was so innocent, so pure, so untouchable and untainted.
I’m the filth that took her innocence, who touched her and tainted her.
But it wasn’t enough.
I kept going back for more.
I rolled the twenty-dollar bill, leaned over the counter dragging the bill across the powder and snorted the drugs up my fucking nose.
Three rips later, I licked my finger tips and swiped them across the counter top, before popping my fingers into my mouth and sucking any residue of the pills from my skin.
A true junkie.
I sniffled, wiping the excess powder from my nose before I turned around and unlocked the door, waiting for the numbness to inebriate me as I stepped out of the bathroom, colliding with the soft body I used to worship and called mine.
I stared into her sad eyes, knowing I was the reason she looked broken, just a shell of the girl she was before I touched her.
I ruined her just like I ruined Christine.
Everything I touch I destroy.
“How long are you going to pretend I don’t exist?” She finally asked, her voice just an octave above a whisper.
Pretend she doesn’t exist? She’s the only fucking thing that exists in my head. She’s the face I see when I wake, when I lay my head down and when I pass the fuck out from whatever poison I consume trying to forget that she does exist.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, took a step closer to her, the scent of her worked its way through my raw nostrils, more intoxicating than any drug I could ever snort or shoot through my veins. I leaned closer, closing my eyes and got high off her.
My sweet Lace.
So damn pretty.
So fucking innocent in all this.
Visit to Cemetery
I stopped off at a bodega on a corner and bought three colorful bouquets of flowers, dropped them in my saddlebags and took off to Fort Hamilton. I dreaded seeing the dead flowers at Christine’s grave and prepared myself for the guilt that would surface when I saw her name carved into the tombstone.
I parked my bike off to the side and killed the engine, grabbing the flowers as I climbed the hill.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw next.
I blinked to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating but as I approached Christine’s grave there was no denying the beauty kneeling before the tombstone was real.
Live and in the flesh.
My beautiful Lace knelt before my wife’s grave, re-arranging a fresh bouquet.
My past met my present and for a second I wished for a future.
Beside her laid a wilted bouquet of flowers, one I hadn’t brought there either.
“Hi, it’s me again,” Lacey said, as she leaned back tucking her haunches beneath her ass. “He’ll be back soon,” she promised before her voice trailed off and the only sound became the wind blowing through the trees. “I remember you,” she said finally. “Not much, but I remember you. I was just a kid when you first came around with Blackie and well, I sort of hated you. No, that sounds horrible,” she amended. “I was envious of you. That doesn’t sound much better but it’s true. I remember thinking you were pretty but then I saw him look at you and knew that wasn’t the right word to describe you. In a world full of ugly you were his beautiful. You and Blackie, it’s like you were the definition behind that saying beauty is in the eyes of the beholder because as pretty as everyone thought you were, they knew true beauty when they looked at him and watched him stare at you. You were the beautiful reflection in his eyes…the woman who made him smile. Even now that you’re gone I still envy you but I’m not sure what it is I wish for more…. for him to look at me like he used to look at you or for me to be the one that brings back that smile.”
I had no words.
She was sitting here talking to my wife, confessing her feelings for me, and I stood there invading her privacy. I should’ve made my presence known, but I remained perfectly still as my heart broke for the woman I lost and began to mend because of the girl who brought her flowers.
She blew out a breath and slowly stood up, brushing dirt from her legs.
“Anyway, I’m going to get going but before I do, since this will be my last visit, I wanted to ask a favor. I’m not real religious and I know I’m probably just sitting here talking to a stone but just in case the afterlife really exists, can you look out for him? I mean I know you do already. Of course you do, you’re his wife…but still, he needs an angel to watch over him,” she whispered. “Who better than you?”
She turned around, and I silently thanked God for the sunglasses that shielded my eyes as I stared at her. Her cheeks turned red as I extended my free hand and took hers.
“How long have you been standing there?” She asked, glancing down at our joined hands.
“Long enough,” I said huskily, pulling her closer. “Lace.”
I glanced down at the flowers she had brought and then lifted my eyes back to hers.
“You brought her flowers,” I stated.
“I can explain,” she started.
“No, since you’ve been in the hospital,” she explained. “I haven’t missed a Saturday,” she whispered.
I released her hand as I stared back at her for a moment then placed the flowers I was holding on top of the headstone. I ran my fingers through my hair as I paced the small area in front of Christine’s grave.
I turned to her.
“How’d you know?”
“About a year ago, me and my dad came to visit my brother’s grave, and we saw your bike. He told me you come here every Saturday and bring her flowers,” she swallowed. “I just figured— “
“Thank you,” I cut her off, closing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her, bringing her against my chest I bent my head, pressing my lips to her head. “Thank you,” I repeated, murmuring the words into her hair.
“You’re welcome,” she said as she wrapped her arms around my waist.
A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
Blackie and Lacey’s love is not an easy story. It’s not about fluff and if you’re looking to escape the reality of the world, this book is not for you. Lethal Temptations is true to its title and while there is a love story between the hero and heroine there is an individual story being told about each character.
Blackie is a drug addict.
Lacey is mentally ill.
They each suffer with the demons that haunt them.
Both issues are very much alive in our world and most of us will experience the torment of addiction and, or, mental illness. If not in ourselves than possibly through the people we love.
The smiling person beside you who appears perfect may be suffering in silence, afraid of what society will say or more than that, afraid of admitting their truth.
If you or someone you love suffers from addiction or mental illness, it’s never too late to find your voice and seek help.
My wish for those in need is that they find hope within the pages of Lethal Temptations because, you’re temptations are only lethal if you allow them to be.
Your voice is your weapon against the things that drag you down.
May is mental health awareness month, let’s turn society around and make it our bitch and save the fractured souls that struggle on a daily basis.
Below you will find links on both addiction and mental health.
Thank you for reading,
The Keith Milano Memorial Fund was established to help raise awareness about the devastating and deadly disease that is mental illness. Keith’s spirit and laughter is kept alive through our efforts to increase awareness about mental illness and to raise money for education and imperative research. Keith often struggled with society’s perception of mental illness. Our hope is that by having the strength to say that Keith was “Bipolar” we can strip away the stigma and help others to be more open about their disease.
Keith Milano Memorial Fund
140 Adams Ave Suite B-12
Hauppauge NY 11788
Direct Donation: http://bit.ly/MilanoFund
ADDICTION ANGEL HOTLINE FOR HELP CALL OR CHECK THEM OUT ON FACEBOOK. THEY ARE THERE TO HELP .YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN YOUR STRUGGLE WITH ADDICTION.
646-404-0637 (24/7) – Dedication to helping addicts kick their addiction
I AM ON A MISSION…. Education and knowledge is key…. Most families and loved ones need guidance and I am here…. if you or your loved one is struggling don’t hesitate to call Addiction Angel…. Licensed and professional volunteers and help is available, call 646-404-0637 (24/7)
Resources to treatment
Inpatient / outpatient
Support groups for families and sibling groups
Educational drug awareness forum “SCARED STRAIGHT”
Drug awareness presentation for schools/ parents
#angelonamission #nursescare #stopthestigma #recoveryispossible #addictionangel
LETHAL TEMPTATIONS BOOK TRAILER
MEET “BLACKIE” aka #NickBennett
#STAYTEMPTED DON’T MISS THE FIRST 4 BOOKS IN THE #TEMPTEDSERIES!
#FREE with #KINDLEUNLIMITED: Amazon
ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.