: Deadly Addiction
Series: Deadly Vices, Book Two
Author: Kristine Cayne
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Rating: 5.0 stars on 22 reviews (Amazon.com)
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A violent clash of cultures and nations tests the forbidden love between a Native American man and a white female cop.
When beautiful police sergeant Alyssa Morgan enters his life, Rémi Whitedeer never expects her to upend it. Not only does she have his hormones in an uproar, she’s also threatening to take the position he wants—Chief of Police for the Iroquois Blackriver Reservation. But Alyssa is more than a Barbie cop. Her ends-justifies-the-means philosophy, so different from his own, challenges Rémi on every level. With her sharp investigative skills and her fearlessness, she leads Rémi to confront bitter truths about his family and his standing as a man of mixed race within his tribe.
Tall hunky Rémi Whitedeer, of the panty-melting grin and the smoldering green eyes, flips Alyssa’s world ass over teakettle. She’s always had a laser-like focus on the job, but Rémi proves a constant distraction. His inner strength and sense of purpose strip away the winner-take-all attitude Alyssa wears like armor. Soon she’s longing for more—a more that terrifies and intrigues her. If he finds out the fine line she’d walked while undercover, will he still want her? And will she ever find the courage to let him—or anyone—that far in?
When Alyssa and Rémi uncover a drug-fueled scheme involving a biker gang from Alyssa’s past and a militant sovereigntist group led by Rémi’s cousin, they are forced to choose between their growing love for each other and the lives they’ve worked so hard to build. Will Rémi and Alyssa have to leave everything behind—even their identities—for the chance of a future together?
Excerpt from Deadly Addiction
Closing her eyes, Alyssa pressed the glass of water to her neck. “I can do the talking if that makes you feel any better.”
Although Rémi heard the words, it would have taken an act of Parliament to get him to respond.
The heat of her skin caused the condensation on the glass to liquefy. Like a tractor-beam, his gaze followed a drop of water as it slid down the long pale column of her neck, followed the curve of her right breast and slipped under the collar of her blue cotton T-shirt into the V of her cleavage. Oh fuck. He wanted to be that drop of water. He wanted to be snuggled between her warm ripe breasts. His cock swelled and lengthened, letting him know that it wanted to be there too.
He squeezed his lids shut and willed his hard-on away. This wasn’t the time and certainly not the place for Mr. Happy to make an appearance. But the more he tried not to think about where the drop had gone, the more he did. He’d thought he was a leg man, but he knew the truth now. It had slapped him in the face. He was a breast man. An “Alyssa’s breasts” man, and he fucking wanted to see them, to feel them, to taste them. Right now.