When secrets conflict with dreams, love explodes. Desires is Daryl Devoré’s hot romance.
After a mistake by a surgeon’s scalpel shattered Fuchsia Quinn's dance career, she picked up the pieces of her life and moved forward. As the owner of a small, struggling dance school in a depressed neighborhood she supplements her income with a late-night job at a strip club. Haunted by the fear of humiliation, if her secret is revealed, her life was under control until the night he walked into the club.
Peyton Lang, having run from an impoverished neighbourhood, lives the lifestyle of a successful billionaire. Frustrated that his current multi-million dollar project is stalled, Peyton drops in to LEATHER-ICIOUS for a quick drink and late night entertainment. What he saw was a beautiful redhead. What he found was he wanted her.
After a lusty night with a hot pole dancer, Peyton and Fuchsia's worlds are about to collide.
Amazon ebook - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0815QH1KT
Print - https://www.amazon.com/dp/1706474121
Books2Read - https://books2read.com/Desires-by-D-Devore
Print - https://www.draft2digital.com/book/530332#print
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.ca/daryldevore2013/desires/
BookSprout - https://booksprout.co/book/45643/desires
Excerpt
Outside the airport, Peyton stepped to the curb and released a short sharp whistle. Having lived in New York City for five years, he knew how to call a cab. And where to get the best pastrami sandwich in North America. Which is exactly what he would like at this moment, but he was in East Millburg, Michigan, a long way away from The Big Apple. As the cabbie tossed his luggage into the trunk, Peyton sat in the back seat.
"Where to?" The cab driver slammed his door.
"Bridge Towers." Peyton watched the city speed past as the taxi driver zigzagged through traffic. "Hey. Where can a guy find a little fun?"
The taxi driver glanced in the mirror. "Champagne or beer?"
"Beer." All he wanted was some time to relax and drink a beer. If naked breasts or an ass bounced in his face, all the better.
"There's this dive spot out on the edge of town. LEATHER-ICIOUS. Pole dancers and strippers. They got some of the best-looking girls around. The strippers'll give you a lap dance that'll make you sweat. And the pole dancers. Wow. What they can do. Flexible. Real Gumbis."
The cab stopped at the Bridge Towers main entrance. A valet reached for the door and opened it. Peyton glanced at the meter and added two twenties to the total. "Thanks for the tip. LEATHER-ICIOUS. I'll check it out." He followed the valet to the registration desk, then the bellhop to his penthouse suite.
Pulling the balcony door open, he stepped out and surveyed the view. The sun was still up, not a cloud to be seen. His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten lunch on the plane. He rarely ate when flying. High altitude affects your sense of taste. Why eat good food if you can't taste it? He called room service and ordered a burger, a small salad, and a cold beer.
Stretching out on the bed, he grabbed the remote and flipped channels looking for anything to watch. He settled for a rerun of a Californication episode.
After wolfing his supper, he spent an hour watching the business report on BNN then three hours answering emails and texts. Princess sent him a selfie in her ballerina costume. He sent a reply that she was the cutest and best dancer on the stage before shutting off his laptop. He called a cab then changed into a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. If you venture into an unfamiliar bar in the rough part of town, it was best not to look like you had billions in the bank.
He strolled along the hallway to the elevator, rode it down the forty-five levels to the ground floor, and entered his waiting cab.
The cabbie looked into his rearview. "Where to?"
"LEATHER-ICIOUS."
"In the mood for a little adventure, huh?"
Peyton grinned and sat back as the cab pulled away from the curb.
The modern high-rises and clean streets morphed into crowded houses, dimly lit streets, and a liquor store on every other corner. After checking for the cab's number, Peyton paid the driver, leaving a sizeable tip. He stepped out and stood back as the car sped off. He shifted his focus to the front of LEATHER-ICIOUS.
The guy did call it a dive.
The paint was faded and peeling. The windows had long since been boarded and barred. Scattered in the parking lot were four motorcycles and several worn looking cars. Glancing round the neighbourhood, he took a quick inventory of a gas station on his right, a couple of homes that hadn't cut their lawn cut in years, two empty lots filled with rotting garbage and a liquor store on the far opposite corner. Kinda looks like where I grew up. And that pretty much sucked.
He grabbed the handle and stepped inside. The bar area was dark with a few patrons. Most of the light came from the bar or the flickering TV. He crossed the room and sat at a table facing the front of the stage.
A gum-chewing waitress asked him what he wanted. He ordered a beer. A movement on stage caught his attention. He didn't know where to look first. His gaze jumped from the arch of her foot in the silver heels, to the mounds of exposed breasts above her bra, to the toned legs that tantalizingly ended at the edge of her yellow leather thong. When the music started, she half turned. A jolt shot through him and straight to his cock, which jumped to attention. The curve of her ass was a vision. He wanted to trickle his fingers over it. Run his tongue up it. His hands ached to cup the cheeks. She spun and twisted upside down, righted herself and reversed the direction of her spin. Peyton couldn't remove his gaze. His beer landed on the table. He grabbed a bill from his wallet. The waitress left with a spring in her step. He half wondered if he'd just paid her with a hundred-dollar bill.
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