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Sheila Roy

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Just Deserts 3: Trouble Finds Me
by Sheila Roy   

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Books by Sheila Roy
· Just Deserts 2: Miranda's Laws
· Just Deserts: An Assassin's Tale
· Igniting the Spark To Trigger It All: One Memory Away
· Dancing With My Imagination
                >> View all



Publisher:  E-BookTime Type: 


Copyright:  August 2010 ISBN-13:  9781608622023

Barnes &
Down in My Bones

Miranda, a female assassin, is torn between the men in her life. Eventually she'll have to choose.





The petite and curly-haired assassin, Miranda, is more accustomed to killing men than sleeping with them. In fact, she can count the number of men she’s been with on one hand. The dark-haired Nash Shapiro, who’s as jealous as he is smoking-hot, has a passionate relationship with Miranda. They’ve survived several bumps in the road, but the green-eyed Lincoln Shapiro is ever-waiting in the shadows for his chance to steal Miranda away. His only time with his older brother’s girl was stolen and interrupted. Now he’s hoping for much more.

            Weary and emotional from the sibling rivalry, Miranda seeks solitude in Grand Cayman. She is either crazy or overwhelmed with loneliness when she heedlessly invites Colin, Nash’s hunky best friend, to her hotel for some down time. Except, Colin wasn’t the only man in Miranda’s life who thought to follow her to Grand Cayman!

Miranda’s heart is being tugged in different directions, but the guys think they have a solution. And so the games begin. Eventually Miranda will have to choose, but how can she choose between the men in her life amidst all the trouble:  coordinating hits, brutal fights, a treasure hunt, a kidnapping, and bruised egos? Just Deserts 3: Trouble Finds Me is a witty adventure with steamy romance. (And just maybe, it’s every girl’s dream!)





As promised, Nash was waiting at the bus stop. He was leaning against the door of a Chevy pick-up, looking hot in a pair of tight, blue jeans. His long, dark waves were pulled back with his favorite leather tie. His black, silk top was unbuttoned to show off half of his impressive chest. He smiled when he spotted me, and I hurried over to meet him.
If he’d had suspicions about my white lie over the line, he wasn’t bothering with them now. He crushed me up in his arms and then turned to press me against the side of the truck. Then he gazed into my eyes with his blues, almost like he could find all the information he wanted there.
Whatever my eyes told him must have been good, because he slid his lips over mine and pulled me closer to him with a hand behind my head. His tongue slipped past my lips and explored farther, making parts of my body stir to life with a sudden throbbing. I wanted to unbutton his jeans and show him just how happy I was to be with him again.
I broke the kiss and glanced around to remind myself that we were in public. It had only been a few days, after all. Surely I could control myself until we got back to my log cabin. My place is only about five miles away from the bus stop, and there would be plenty of privacy there.
Nash wasn’t finished saying hello, though. He captured my lips again with a bruising kiss that said he was also having naughty thoughts. “Let’s go,” he murmured close to my ear, “before I take you right here against this door.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I slid down his body, with a well-placed hand along the way, and squeezed out between him and the door. He hugged me from behind and released a low growl from his throat. He pulled the passenger’s door open and used his reach as an excuse to push even closer to me. Then he picked me up and tossed me onto the seat with a laugh. Finally, he slammed the door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side.
Once he had the truck running, he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me next to him. Then he maneuvered out of the parking lot and sped down the road with a smile of anticipation on his face.
I pushed away from him and slid onto my belly on the bench seat, sliding a hand over the bulge in his jeans. I heard him groan, but he didn’t try to stop me, so I used both hands to undo his jeans. I slid a hand into his tight fitting boxers and ran it down the length of him.
I felt the truck swerve a little. Then we took a turn, and the truck sped up again.
I wrapped my lips around the tip of his arousal and flicked my tongue over it.
The truck veered again.
Nash’s next few groans coincided with the motion of my tongue. I slid him farther into my mouth and ran my tongue along his length as I went.
Nash swerved the truck and told me, “Stop, Shorty, I can’t…”
I drew him out of my mouth slowly and made a slurping sound when I released him. The sexy sound made me want to yank off my jeans, jump atop Nash’s rock hard aggression, and not stop till it was spent.
The truck swerved again and more of Nash accidentally slid back into my mouth, but only about an inch more. It was enough to drive me crazy. I slid down the length of him with my lips and felt the truck veer off the road.
All of a sudden, the ride got bumpy. Nash let out a quick roar of surprise before we slammed into something and came to a stop. The momentum had forced him farther into my mouth. I ran my tongue along the base of him, not caring what had just happened.
“Shorty,” Nash got out between heavy breaths. “Stop. We hit a tree.”
I slid him out of my mouth long enough to ask, “Where?”
“At the end of your street,” he breathed out, stroking my hair as my lips eased downward.
“No one will see,” I told him, after sliding him back out of my mouth. “Now will you shut up?”
“Gladly,” he sighed, letting me have my way. He slouched down on the seat slightly and followed my head’s movement with his hand as my lips sank down lower over him.

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Reader Reviews for "Just Deserts 3: Trouble Finds Me"

Reviewed by Amor Sabor 4/14/2012
Oh my!!! I think I knew you...I mean Miranda...I knew this Miranda and was I in for I could never resist her...but never enough to crash of course. I love how you can draw the reader in. That is why your stories are so hard to resist as you can never get enough of them.
Reviewed by richard cederberg 9/2/2010
What an excerpt Sheilafriend, and, what an enchantress you are, leaving the reader hanging on a cliff like this.

I think I knew a Miranda 'type' in my twenties when I was in college up in Santa Barbara. She was tiny, long brownish curly hair, sonsie, devious, intelligent, had a black belt in Karate, and would just as soon kick it as pursue her hunger for it. Hahahhhh ...

Hey, in all seriousness, congrats, kudos, brava, yippee, and a big ole' well done bear hug on your newest achievement. I've been drifting into another reading season.
Peace and love

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