Forbidden Lust: 3 (Lust for Life)

Jayne
Kingston

Book 3 in the Lust for Life
series.

Seven years ago she propositioned
him and he turned her down.

Oscar cannot deny he’s wanted Eva
for as long as he can remember, but their thirteen-year age difference and
family loyalty have forced him to keep her at arm’s length. By any means
necessary.

His best friend’s baby sister
wasn’t quite eighteen when she tempted him with the offer of a lifetime.
Turning her down then was a no-brainer. Seven years later he finds himself
confessing she’s become every inch the woman of his most lusty fantasies. So
she issues a challenge—prove it.

Prove it he does. Over and over
again in a night so mind-blowingly hot it leads to days and weeks of
all-consuming passion. Passion completely worth the wrath he is going to have
to face when her family finds out he’s broken all the rules to have her.

A Romantica®
contemporary erotic romance
from
Ellora’s Cave

“And here I thought Mom was going to be the first one to
cry.”

Eva sniffed and blinked back a tear without looking up at her
brother Jamie.

“I’m not crying,” she muttered and went back to pinning his
boutonnière to the lapel of his tuxedo. “I poked myself trying to get this damn
thing on straight.”

Jamie
tsked
at her the way their mom did sometimes.
Okay, frequently.

“Evangeline Rodriguez. Lying
and
cursing in church.
That’s a double whammy.”

Yes, but a double whammy was better than admitting wedding
day of the last of her marriageable siblings was making her sappy. She didn’t
get sappy at weddings. Ever.

She scoffed. “If only those were the worst of my offenses.”
She tucked the sharp end of the pin out of harm’s way and slowly let go. The
flowers stayed.

“Nice job,” Jamie said, as if he was as surprised as she
was.

She gave him a look. “Did you expect anything less?” Before
he could give her a wiseass answer she asked, “How’s your new baby look this
morning?”

He grinned. “Just as beautiful as she did last night.”

Other grooms wanted one last night of debauchery on the eve
of tying themselves to one person for the rest of their lives. Her hopelessly
romantic brother wanted a tattoo—a pink daylily that was significant to him and
Leni, right over his heart.

He’d come to Eva months ago and asked her to do the piece at
the last minute so he could surprise Leni with it on their wedding night. Eva
and Jamie had been up until the wee hours of the morning, talking about
whatever came to mind over the buzz of her tattoo machine. Lust for Life, the
shop Jamie co-owned with his friends Leo and Oz, had been dark and quiet except
for the two of them. It was a night she would never forget.

“Thanks.” She smiled back at him. “I hope she likes it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s going to love it.” He kissed her
cheek and her stupid eyes welled up with tears again. “It’s perfect.”

Jamie wasn’t just a good tattoo artist, he was well-known in
the tattoo community worldwide. His work could be seen on everyone from actors
to rock stars to local tattoo connoisseurs from all walks of life. Eva, on the
other hand, had only been out from under the hell that was her apprenticeship
with Oz a couple of years. Jamie asking her to do such a significant piece
meant he respected her work. To have him validate it out loud—and to use the
word perfect, no less—meant the world to her.

She dabbed at the damp corner of her eye as casually as she
could. Her oldest brother Diego was helping Jamie’s best man Leo tie his tie
across the room. If either of them caught wind of the fact she was crying like
a damn girl, she would never hear the end of it from either of them.

She cleared her throat. “I had money on you being the first
to cry.”

“What do I have to cry about? My girl makes me the happiest
man on earth. Our family and friends are all here to celebrate our marriage.
Life is good.”

Life was good for Jamie. The second of her six older
siblings had always led somewhat of a charmed life, and his bride was a huge
part of it. Leni was big-hearted, whip-smart and tough in her own way. They
were perfect for each other.

And while Eva was comfortably single and nowhere near ready
for anything as balls-out crazy as marriage, she envied him a little that he’d
found the one.

But just a little.

There was a knock on the door and they all turned to see who
was there.

Joy, Leo’s new love, who also happened to be the wedding
photographer, stuck her head in. “Are women allowed in here, or is it strictly
men only?”

“Women are welcome, but only if they’re smokin’ hot,” Diego
said, then turned to give her a playfully salacious once-over as she came all
the way into the room, camera in hand. “You are more than qualified, darling.”

Eva looked at Leo. “You gonna let him talk to your woman
like that?”

Leo was grinning like an idiot at Joy. “He’s only speaking
the truth, my friend.”

Eva turned back to Jamie and rolled her eyes, making him
chuckle.

He buttoned his tux jacket and held his arms out. “How do I
look?”

She reached up and pretended to straighten the knot of his
black tie, tied in something her fancy-suit- and tie-wearing oldest brother
called an Eldridge knot. “You look like you’re about to make someone the
happiest woman in the world.”

With her back still to the room, she heard the door open
again and Oz said, “Someone told me this is where the party’s at.”

Joy murmured a pleasantly surprised, “Oh
wow
.”

Diego said, “Holy shit.”

Leo said, “I’m sorry, sir, strangers aren’t allowed.”

Jamie’s face registered the happiest kind of surprise, then
he let loose with a wolf-whistle that made Eva’s ears ring. She turned to see
what they were all getting so excited about—it was only friggin’ Oz after
all—and the bottom dropped right the fuck out of her stomach.

If she hadn’t already heard his voice she wouldn’t have
known it was him at first glance. When he’d left the rehearsal dinner the night
before, Oscar Gaudin had looked like a cross between a gypsy and a mountain man
with his long, coal-black hair and full beard. The man who’d just come into her
brother’s makeshift dressing room looked as if he’d just stepped off the page
of a men’s fashion magazine. In a goddamn suit, no less.

His hair had been cut short on the sides and back, but left
kind of long on top, and styled into a glossy hipster pompadour. There wasn’t a
single trace of the beard he’d had for years. His naked face was both foreign
and familiar at the same time. Those were definitely Oscar’s wide, black eyes
and long, aristocratic nose—gifts from his French father—but his mouth… Fucking
hell.

He acknowledged her with a curt nod and she had to force
herself out of wondering what talents a mouth like that might possess. And then
those wicked-dark eyes of his did something she’d never seen them do
before—they scanned her. Slowly and from head to toe, lingering a long moment
on the ivory pumps she was wearing before they snapped back up to meet her
gaze.

She realized that look, well, it made her feel a lot less
like someone’s pesky kid sister and a whole lot like a woman. A woman who was
desirable.

The only woman in the room.

Maybe the only woman on the planet.

Jamie touched his finger under her jaw and Eva closed her
mouth with a snap. She slid him a dirty look and he chuckled as he moved past
her.

“God
damn
, you are an ugly man,” he declared, right
before he took Oscar’s face in his hands and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

“
Aaand
there’s a little something for the bride,” Joy
said quietly, getting the shot. She nudged Eva with her elbow. “Maybe we should
get one for the photographer as well. Hey, Blondie,” she called to Leo. “Why
don’t you pile on the back and we’ll get a shot of the shop partners while I have
you all in the same room.”

Leo obliged by sandwiching Oz between himself and Jamie.

“Yeah, that one’s going up on the studio wall,” Joy said
with a grin.

Eva had to admit they were a gorgeous trio—Jamie and Oscar
with their dark looks, Leo with his long, pale-blond hair and bright blue-green
eyes—but she didn’t look at them the same way Joy was looking at them. They
were her brothers.

Well, she didn’t look at two of them that way, anyway.

“The single ladies better watch out tonight,” Diego said,
moving to stand next to Eva to watch the other guys goof for the camera.
Clearly he meant Oscar.

She really didn’t care much for the way his words felt like
a kick to the gut.

“Or maybe it’s Oscar who better watch out,” he added when
she didn’t say anything. “They’re going to be throwing themselves at him in
groups.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Worried you have a little
competition?”

Her extremely handsome, chronically single, borderline
manwhore of a brother gave her a look that said surely she was joking.

And then she became aware Oscar was heading toward them.

Eva rolled her eyes at Diego. “I’m going to go check on the
bride.”

“She looks almost as good as you do,” Oscar told her, his
voice deep and low as he gave her another
Me, Tarzan
look. He smiled
ever so slightly and a dimple she’d long forgotten existed appeared in his
right cheek close to the corner of his mouth.

Eva’s mind went blank. She stared at him for a moment and
found it was difficult to look directly at him for too long. Yes, she could
grudgingly admit he’d been hot with the beard—even though he could seriously be
the biggest asshole ever sometimes—but he was goddamn sexy as all fuck without
it.

And now he was messing with her. At her brother’s wedding.
Real nice.

She turned and left the room.

It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that Oscar felt as
if he could breathe again. And even then his lungs didn’t seem to be working at
full capacity.

When Eva Rodriguez dressed, even somewhat conservatively for
a wedding, she dressed to kill. The V-neck of the emerald-green dress she was
wearing wasn’t especially low, and the hem of the skirt stopped modestly at her
knees, but it was the way it draped her lithe little body that had stolen the
breath right out of his chest.

The thin, cream-colored sweater—if you could call two long
sleeves connected by material that just covered her shoulders a sweater—she was
wearing was sexy simply because he knew she was discreetly covering the
shoulder-to-wrist Japanese garden scene tattooed on her left arm. And God bless
America, he wanted to lie down in front of everyone and let her walk all over
his ass in those sexy pinup-girl shoes she was wearing.

Her long strawberry-blonde hair had been pulled back into a
low ponytail and styled into a thick, spiraling curl. A dark-pink lily that
matched the arrangements throughout the church was pinned behind one pretty
ear. Her makeup was subtle, natural in a way that played up her big green eyes
and long lashes beautifully, and she’d painted her mouth a soft berry color
that made him hungry to taste her.

The entire look was such a far cry from the boyish jeans,
t-shirts and Vans she usually wore that he’d been slightly stunned when he’d
first walked into the room. Not that her day-to-day style wasn’t hot as hell in
its own way, but she was so tough, and she had such a filthy mouth on her, he
often forgot she wasn’t really one of the guys.

She was a woman. A gorgeous, sexy, melt-on-your-tongue kind
of woman.

And his best friend Diego’s baby sister. Thirteen very long
years younger.

He’d been at their house the day Brenda and Diego Sr.
brought her home from the hospital, but reminding himself of that didn’t help.
In fact, he’d been having a hard time remembering Eva was off limits a lot the
past couple of years.

She’d been underfoot every day during her apprenticeship
with him—something he’d agreed to only because Jamie had asked—and he’d become
painfully aware that she’d grown up fine. During that time he’d frequently
caught himself wishing she would change her mind and go do something else, but
she had the same phenomenal talent as Jamie, and she’d shown up every single
morning ready to learn.

When she’d been ready to go off on her own, it had been a
relief to have her move to her own space, where he couldn’t smell her pretty,
tea-tree-scented hair or accidentally bump into her soft, warm body at every
turn. After she’d first moved out of his room he’d tried to put those things
out of his mind, but she’d only moved into the room across the hall from his.

And there were other things. She sang softly to herself when
she was in her room by herself, cleaning or drawing a piece for a client. And
she laughed, which he realized, with no small twinge of guilt, that she hadn’t
done once while he’d been teaching her. The sound was low and throaty and so
damn erotic that he often caught himself smiling along—or having to adjust his
stirring cock—when it happened.

Then there was the quick series of stretches she would move
through to unwind between clients. The first time he’d caught her doing it, her
door wide open for anyone walking by to see, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue.
He’d tried to avoid looking when he was aware she was doing it, but the
temptation of a peek of smooth skin when her shirt rode up was too much. He was
only so strong.

And apparently growing weaker by the moment.

He turned back to Diego, who was watching him,
expressionless.

“Have you seen Leni yet today?” Oscar asked quickly. Maybe
too quickly.

“Yes,” Diego answered after a pause. “Did you bring a date?”

It was clear that Diego was choosing not to make an issue
out of what Oscar had just said to Eva, or the way he’d likely been watching
her as she’d walked out the door. For that he was grateful, but he had an idea
of where the next conversation was going.

“No.” He opened his suit jacket and put his hands in his
pants pockets. “There are going to be too many old friends here that I haven’t
seen in a long time. I didn’t think it would be fair to anyone I might bring if
I spent all my time catching up with them.”

Diego shrugged. “I’m sure there are going to be plenty of
opportunities to make new friends by the end of the night.” He threw an arm
around Oscar’s shoulders. “My friend, you may have arrived alone, but you will
not have to leave alone.”

Oscar had the terrible, sinking feeling that no matter who
Diego tried to set him up with later that night, no matter how smart, funny or
beautiful she happened to be—because Diego never settled for anyone who didn’t
have some degree of all three qualities—she wasn’t going to compare to Eva.