After a year of lonely widowhood, Thia Williams is finally ready to get back into action. She steps into a small gallery in San Francisco to meet her blind date, primed and ready for a sensual night when...he cancels. How lucky for Thia that she literally bumps into a seductive artist who shows with a paint brush that he understands passion in the very best way.
A PI working undercover for the DEA, Derek Hawkins is posing as an artist. The last thing he needs is a beautiful woman itching to be taught the art of the sensual. But what's a guy to do?
Knowing she shouldn't, Thia follows Derek into a sexual odyssey. At the same time, Derek teaches her the meaning of "undercover work." When they finish with drug smugglers, boats, guns, and sizzling San Francisco nights, who's the teacher and who's the student?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among the men.
A Siren Erotic Romance
4 ROSES: "She Shouldn't, But She Will appealed to me on several levels. It's always fun to accompany a tightly wound woman on her journey to sexual freedom. Add the intrigue of a sabotaged business, a mysterious mansion of pleasure, and the discovery that the heroine's lover is the head of the agency she's hired and works for the DEA besides, and you've got a salacious story of excitement and intrigue that will keep you guessing, right to the wicked twist at the end. Francis Drake has created characters that come alive through the action and dialog. She Shouldn't, But She Will will draw you in from the very beginning." -- L. E. Kelley, Sensual Reads
“You might get where you’re going faster if you walk,” the cabbie said, eyeing Cynthia Williams through the rearview mirror.
She twisted her hands and looked out the window at the same traffic jam that had stalled the cab’s progress for the past six minutes. Horns blared and exhaust fumes seeped through the window, stuck open an inch or two. In her cab, the driver tapped the steering wheel to a Latin beat blasting from the radio, calm as the meter flipped up to the next dollar.
The courage she’d built for the evening leached away with every minute she spent from her goal, meeting her blind date and hopefully embarking on a night on the wild side, a side Thia had always taken care to avoid. She would avoid it no longer, at least for tonight. If she didn’t talk herself out of the adventure while sitting in San Francisco traffic.
“I think you’re right. I’m already running late.”
Thia paid the driver and exited the taxi. She wished she’d had time to change after work. Her suit was designed to look professional, and she only hoped the fit and color—not to mention the heels—would soften the business look and make her seem sexier.
Tugging at the skirt of her tailored suit, she started off at a good clip. Several blocks and two alleys later, she entered the Unique Art Gallery, out of breath and anxious. The moment of truth had arrived. Here in the gallery, her date, Aaron Smith, waited. With a sense of humor and understanding nature, she hoped.
Immediately, she started preparing her reasons for being late—a blown circuit breaker in her condo, someone had left the outer door open on the elevator and she had to manage four flights of stairs in heels, no taxis for a block and a half, and then the traffic jam due to the bike race in the city.
Aaron knew Thia’s best friend’s husband. July had assured Thia that Aaron was handsome, charming and a man who knew his way around women. From the stories she’d heard, July confided to Thia over lunch the previous week, he wouldn’t mind a one-night escapade, and Thia would be more than satisfied. God knew, she’d settle for less at this point. Just being held and looked at with appreciation would be better than she’d had in the past year.
After more than a year’s hiatus of being with a man, Thia had every intention of ending the dry spell, and Aaron sounded like the man to help. Now in the gallery, her heart thumped like a jungle drum.
For months after her husband’s death the previous year, sex had been the furthest thing from Thia’s mind. But lately, it seemed sex was all she thought about. The heat, the whispered words, the friction of one body against another, the scent—her breasts ached with the images those words conjured.
Nervously, she smoothed her hands over her hips, aware her fitted, soft lavender suit left little to the imagination as to the shape of her athletic body. She hoped the suit and pumps screamed, Fuck me.
And now, to find the man who would accommodate that wish.
Standing on tiptoes, she perused the gallery patrons, looking for a man who looked “handsome, charming and knew his way around women.” Rounding one of the many dividing walls she froze, staring up into a pair of the greenest eyes she had ever seen. Fighting the urge to stare but losing, her gaze started down more than six feet of bronze god, passing over broad shoulders before drifting down to a narrow waist and then powerful legs. She raised her head to see a full head of blond hair, a sexy half-smile and eyes evaluating her body as blatantly as she’d been evaluating his.
Oh my God, please let this be Aaron!
Before either could say a word, Thia’s cell phone rang. Without breaking her stare, she retrieved her phone. “Hello.” Her voice sounded breathy.
“Thia, this is Aaron Smith. I’m so sorry to do this, but I’m in the middle of a family emergency and won’t be able to make it tonight.”
Part of her was disappointed—the part that didn’t remember lessons her mother taught her about sex with strangers and giving away her charms. But then, her mom was a long way off.
“Oh. Well, okay, these things happen. Maybe we can try again some other time.”
“Thanks for understanding. I’ll give you a call.” He hung up. She followed suit.
So much for facing her sexuality. Her cooling off period in the taxi hadn’t been wasted after all. Just as well. Decorum dictated she shouldn’t have been up for sex with a blind date anyway. Now she needed to decide if she should go home or simply enjoy the art exhibit.
A subtle clearing of his throat brought her thoughts back to the object of her gaze and the decision to stay was made. His smile sent goose bumps skittering down her spine. Aaron’s cancellation meant she wouldn’t be fucked later. Or maybe not…She looked at the man standing before her again.
She smiled back. To hell with decorum. She was looking at a god and he was smiling at her. Mere mortals shouldn’t take such things lightly.
The god spoke. “May I help you? I’m Derek, one of the artists in tonight’s show.”
Take me back to your mountain top and fuck me silly. Down girl. “That’s interesting. Which ones are yours?”
“Let me show you.” He turned and started toward the other side of the gallery. She trailed after, feeling like a puppy looking for a handout.
“These four are mine. Do you see anything you like?”
I see you, don’t I? “Give me some time to look. There might be something I’d like to take home.”
“Just let me know.” His voice had dropped and Thia sucked in a breath.
Derek stepped close and put one hand on her waist while he looked over her shoulder. “What do you think of that one,” he said, pointing to the picture of a dark haired woman touching herself.
“It’s, well, it’s erotic.” Thia studied it, then whispered. “I can almost feel her orgasm.”Damn! Why did I say that?
He slid his hand along her waist, ending over her stomach. He pulled her tighter against him. “I’m glad. That’s the goal of anyone who paints, you know, to make the viewer feel what the painting expresses.”
His erection pressed against her butt and Thia worried suddenly that she might get what she’d gone there for. Not that Derek might fuck her—God, she wanted him inside her in the worst way—but that she might not live up to his expectations. She didn’t have much experience.
With effort, she tamped down her insecurities. “Well, you did an excellent job, then, because um, what she’s feeling comes through very well.”
“Thanks.” Derek’s other hand smoothed over the chenille to meet his first hand at her waist. He dipped his head to nuzzle the small spot of skin above the collar of the robe.
The warmth of his breath sent shivers down her spine and heat straight to her pussy. With a shaky hand she set her cup beside the photo album and then leaned into him.
He untied the belt and slid his hands against the bare skin of her stomach. “You’re so soft.” His mouth against her ear, the low rumble of his voice rolled through her.
Taking a deep breath, which not only gave her courage but plumped her breasts, she shucked off the robe.
Message received, his hands skimmed up her torso to massage her breasts. She moaned her feelings out on a sigh. Her nipples pebbled against his palms and her skin absorbed the fire coming from his lips, his mouth, and then his teeth as he nipped the skin on her shoulder.
Her thoughts ran wild. Ohgod, ohgod! I shouldn’t be here, I should have used common sense.
Turning, she edged onto the table and let him look. His eyes homed in on her nipples, and then he gave her a long, slow smile.
“Perfect,” he said.
She tried to smile back. “Am I?”
“Oh, yes.” Without shifting his gaze, he pulled his shirt out from his waistband and unbuttoned it. He unzipped his trousers. The bulge hiding just beneath the material was unmistakable.
When he lowered his trousers and briefs, her heart leapt, her breath quickened. He was thick and long. Pre-cum glistened on a large reddened crown that topped several inches of red-veined shaft. A rich thatch of blond hair bristled around the base. He was beautiful, vibrant, strong, and she had to have him inside her.
Before she could say a word he stood naked before her.
Bracing her hands behind her on the table, she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull her panties down. For a brief moment, he stared at her bush. Already the scent of arousal filled the air.
“Leave on your stockings and shoes.”