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Viva las Regalos: Kat and Mouse
by Lexxie Couper
Changeling Press
Publication Date: 2007
ISBN: 978-1-59596-693-3
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action/Adventure, BDSM
Theme(s): Ménage, Viva Los Regalos
Series: Viva Los Regalos Multi-Author
Length: NovellaBuy the ebook now from Changeling Press.
Book Summary
Australian Federal cop Katrina O’Brien’s on the tail of an international jewel thief, a mysterious criminal known only as The Mouse.
She’s not going to let him get away, even when his trail leads her to the sinfully decadent US resort Los Regalos, a place where your every desire is catered to. Katrina’s desires run deep and dark, and The Mouse is more than willing to accommodate them. But so is someone else. Someone who’s been watching them both. Someone who knows everything about them…Someone dangerous.
Someone powerful.
Someone not human…
Reviews
5 Stars! “Kat and Mouse is an erotic, suspenseful and romantic paranormal tale about two people’s obsession of playing cat and mouse has become more than just a game. A definite keeper!”
“The characters are real and engaging, the plot is remarkable, and the sex scenes left me breathless. Kat and Mouse is a book that will keep you up way past your bedtime!”
Read an Excerpt
Viva Los Regalos: Kat and Mouse
Lexxie Couper
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Lexxie Couper
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Hands, strong and firm, closed over her breasts and a gasp burst from her as raw pleasure shot through her body. Look at me! Tell me you want me to fuck you.
She turned back to him, gazed up into his burning stare, and her cunt clenched at the naked desire she saw there. I want you to fuck me.
A bitter smile pulled at his lips. Because I’m dangerous.
It was a statement, but a question as well. Dangerous. Yes. He was dangerous. Everything in her world had been about safety. Everything in her upper-class life had been about keeping safe. But not him. Yet that wasn’t the reason she was with him. Here. Now. She was here with him because…
His mouth closed over one nipple and he nipped on its puckered nub. Exquisite pain shot through her and she’d cried out. Oh, God!
She grabbed at the sheets, fisted them into crumpled balls, her cunt flooding with a need she’d never dreamed possible until this moment. She’d bucked her hips, pushing her sex harder to his cock, wordlessly demanding he do what he’d threatened to do the second they’d first met.
But he didn’t. He’d dragged his mouth from her breast, scored a wet, hot line down her stomach to flick his tongue into her navel. She’d bitten her bottom lip to stop her moan — a bottom lip he’d described as full and sinful — but when his strong fingers released the button-fly of her jeans, when his hands yanked them down her hips, when his lips took possession of her pussy, the moan burst free. Filling the room with its raw sound.
You taste so good. I knew you would. The words were muffled, his breath like hot mist on the sodden folds of her sex, his hands like warm velvet sliding up her stomach to capture her breasts.
And now, here she lay. In the throes of sexual eruption, the man between her thighs driving her wild with his tongue, his teeth, his knuckles and his fingers… and two words floated through her pleasure-clouded mind. Two words. Dangerous. Love. The two fit too well together. She squeezed her eyes shut. God, she was in too deep.
She rolled her head to the side, the friction of his tongue on her clit making her tremble, making her want to forget who he was, what he was.
Bright light glared against her closed eyelids, stark and confronting, and she opened them, looking at the overweight, sweaty bald man sitting beside her. “We’re touching down soon,” he said, showering her in half-chewed peanut crumbs. “Isn’t it exciting!”
Australian Federal Police Officer Katrina O’Brien blinked, squinting at the man and the light beaming through the small window behind him. Hot mortification poured through her and she bit back a groan. She was in a luxurious private jet somewhere over the United States, for chrissakes, not a dark and seedy hotel room in the Outer Sydney suburbs! Bloody hell, O’Brien! You were dreaming!
Another wave of shame rolled through Katrina and she scrubbed at her face with her palms. No. Not a dream. A memory. A memory of a time and a person she thought she’d erased from her system.
Not just one person, O’Brien. Two. Who you are now is nothing like who you were back then… right? Katrina ground her teeth and clenched her fists. She wanted to scream. Or shoot something.
Turning away from the fat bald man with dubious personal hygiene beside her — one of Australia’s most powerful media tycoons, of all things — she stared blankly up the aisle. Shit. A memory. Thought you were over him?
Katrina suppressed a growl. She was over him, damn it! She’d spent the better part of the last seven years obliterating paper man-shaped targets at the firing range getting over him. She’d spent the three years before beating the crap out of unsuspecting sparring partners at her tae kwon do class getting over him! What the bloody hell was she doing reliving that moment again?
“Are you ready to party?”
Katrina swung her head around and frowned at her newfound multi-billionaire chum. “Excuse me?”
The balding man gave her a wide grin. “Los Regalos.” He leant toward her a little and she got a whiff of expensive cologne, expensive B.O. and even more expensive Scotch. “Party.”
Katrina scowled. “I think you’ve done enough partying for us both.”
The man chuckled, his sizeable gut wobbling under a designer suit she knew cost more than her annual salary. “Babe, you have no idea what’s waiting for you.”
Katrina rolled her eyes and turned away again, wishing to God she had her gun.
Being a cop usually meant she was never without it, but this trip — going undercover to capture the country’s most notorious jewel thief — required leaving her Glock at home. She felt naked. Well, not entirely naked. She did have her cuffs. For some reason, her stainless steel government-issue handcuffs didn’t seem to cause a problem for the Los Regalos airport security team back in Sydney, a fact Katrina found both intriguing and disquieting. She’d been ready to deliver her elaborate excuse for carrying them aboard, but all the gentleman — the very sexy gentleman, she had to admit — checking her luggage had done when he’d seen them was give her a knowing grin.
Knowing what still bugged her. It wasn’t like she had “cop” tattooed to her forehead.
Her aisle buddy leant toward her, expensive false teeth flashing. “Los Regalos is like no other city you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“I can’t wait,” she muttered, trying to inch away surreptitiously and longing for her gun even more. She wasn’t going to party. She was going to catch a thief. All work. No play. As always.
“Los Regalos will change your life.”
“It’ll change someone’s life,” she answered, thinking of her target, the man waiting — albeit, unknowingly — to be arrested somewhere in the exclusive destination. “But it sure as hell won’t change mine.”
