Purely Sexual. Delta Dupree

      KENSINGTON BOOKS

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      1

      “Marriage?” Donnie shouted. What the devil would he do with a damn wife? In his current state of sexual affairs, a wife would be nothing but a frigging hindrance.

      “Fontana, listen, goddamn it.” Paul Tedesco settled his elbow on the desk, propped his cheek against his fist. “Spouses can’t be forced to testify against significant others. You need to think about the issues. Think about the future. Survival. A number of people saw you with Susannah, and Challie saw you upstairs together.”

      Fists clenched at his sides, Donnie said, “I don’t give a damn what the maid saw. I didn’t beat the hell out of Suze.” No way could anybody claim he’d hurt Pearson. Any woman. And why had every time he’d heard the maid’s name or he’d caught sight of her, his dick jerked? “Suze was fine when I left her. Angry, but fine.”

      He marched over to the window and stared through the sheer curtains, then snatched a length of fabric back. Across the expansive courtyard, Paul’s Silver Cloud was parked along the circular driveway. The driver/bodyguard, a humongous Samoan dude named Tupa, polished smudges off the Rolls-Royce. Bright sun rays enhanced July’s blue skies, but thunderheads rolled in from the southwest. Dark. Ominous. Threatening as this damn situation.

      Donnie spun around as the curtains fell back into place. “This is bullshit.”

      “Look,” Paul said, holding his hands up. “Calm down. We’ll get to the bottom of it. Soon, I hope. The police want to interview everyone who attended the party last night. I’ve got a list to turn over soon. Meanwhile, you have to keep Challie from testifying if things escalate to a trial.”

      Earlier this morning, the new maid had found Susannah. What idiot would attack a woman? The only thing Donnie attacked on the female species was the hot snatch between her legs.

      “I don’t have anything to hide.” Damn it, why wasn’t Paul listening or understanding? Abuse was not Donnie’s game. He’d never laid a hand on a woman. Well, not maliciously. Maybe a good swat or two when she misbehaved. Or to get her undivided attention. All in fun and foreplay.

      “Okay, okay,” Paul said flatly. “The problem is Challie can point the finger at you, make your life miserable. Unlivable. If she tells the cops about the argument, you’re in for some real problems. Mayhem I don’t need.”

      “Exactly, an argument. Suze was pissed because she caught me with Ellie Brewsters. But I didn’t fuck Brewsters, Paul,” he said before his boss spit out his next belittling words. “Too many buddies are talking about her. She just has a mouth that—” Obviously he’d said the wrong shit again.

      Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Is sex all you ever think about? Jesus Christ.” He was married, had two kids and an imaginary white picket fence surrounding this huge mansion, living ideally in loving matrimony.

      Donnie’s two-bedroom condo was pretty damn sharp, but it was no comparison to Paul’s modern-day castle. Pool, spa, pricey artwork, a library that gave the Phoenix metro area’s bookstores a run for their money. Donnie would give anything to live high and mighty on unlimited resources.

      “Your dick’s gonna get you into a lot of trouble one day…correction…it already has. Where did you go after leaving here?”

      “I didn’t take off right away. Um.” Paul was sure to jump pissed.

      “I don’t think I want to hear this.” Perceptive, Paul gazed back, his dark eyes filled with annoyance. “As long as you keep your damn hands off my wife.”

      “I’d never touch Tina.” He’d thought about it a few times. She flaunted dangerous swaying hips. Silky blond hair, one tiny dimple piercing her left cheek, vivid blue eyes, she was hot, boasting honkin’ knockers. Sure as shit, her sexpot was…

      Hostility gathered in Paul’s dark eyes. He snapped the chair forward with a loud bang, as if he’d seen the burning lust in Donnie’s gaze. “Picture this. Your balls stuffed, lacquered and rolling across my pool table before you get the chance to apologize.”

      Smarter than the average guy, Donnie’s growing erection deflated. Clearly, Paul Tedesco had ways to control people. “I’m cool. No way would I mess with your old lady.”

      “Good damn thing. Saves your gonads for now.” He leaned back again, rocking. “Did any guests see you to the door, wave good-bye as you left?”

      He shook his head. “I took the back stairs, went out the gate. Vanessa’s old man was coming up the main staircase.”

      “Vanessa? She’s only been married to Bradley for three damn months.”

      “Guess he’s not giving her what she wants or needs.”

      Sighing noisily, Paul adjusted his black horn-rimmed glasses. He lifted the half-smoked Cuban cigar from the ashtray, relit it in three big drags. The pungent aroma wafted toward air cleaners that his wife insisted they install. Outspoken Tina had iron nerves; she’d front him off, boldly defy her husband and come away unscathed.

      “When I left here,” Donnie continued. Why dwell on history? Think about the present, the future, his current problem becoming his biggest nightmare. “I went straight home for once, straight to bed. Alone.” He never invited any hot snatch to his condo.

      “Lousy alibi in my opinion. Anybody see you leave the premises or call your home phone later?”

      Every bone in Donnie’s body softened to rubber. Slumping, his brown-striped tie tightened around his neck like a noose. He pulled the choking polyester free, draped it over his shoulder then unfastened the top two buttons of his tan shirt as he moved across the room.

      With the situation growing grimmer by the second, Donnie collapsed onto the visitor’s wingchair and buried his face in both hands. “No. When I got there, I turned off the ringer as always. I needed sleep. Been out in the streets too much.”

      “Undoubtedly,” Paul said. “The way I see it, you have two options.”

      Tensing, Donnie looked up. “Options? Why do I need any options? I haven’t done anything wrong.” He screwed up his face when Paul gave him a blank stare. “What are they, for God’s sake? This nightmare has to end.”

      “Marry—”

      “I don’t want to hear that one, Paul.” Donnie tunneled all ten fingers through his hair. Why the hell was he living in Scottsdale, Arizona? Of all the cities in the United States,