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Private Desire - Hot Night at the Beach

Contents

  1. Cover
  2. About the Series
  3. About the Book
  4. About the Author
  5. Private Desire — Hot Night at the Beach
  6. Copyright
  7. Hot Night at the Beach
  8. Next episode

About the Series

Sizzling love stories packed with erotic suspense — this e-book series features self-contained erotic love stories in picturesque settings.

About the Book

24-year old Lucrezia loves the nightlife. Always looking for adventure, she lives by the motto: no love, no pain. Her strategy seems to work, even though none of her lovers have ever managed to fully please her. That is, until she meets Fabrizio. Sexy and arrogant, he is totally her kind of guy. But following a hot night of passion, she realizes she can’t just dispose of him. After all, he seems willing to do anything to make her admit that their night together was something truly special.

About the Author

Chiara Cilli was born in 1991 and lives in Pescara, Italy. Books have always been her passion with genres ranging from fantasy and paranormal romances to erotic.

 

“Dude, watch out!”

Lucrezia slammed on the brakes a split second before nearly running into three men who were crossing the street on Riviera Boulevard in Pescara. It was ten p.m. on a Saturday, but it seemed like noon. She was trying to get her motorbike out of that infernal traffic, and she had almost killed them.

“Watch the road, moron!” shouted someone else.

The girl raised an eyebrow under her full-face helmet. This wouldn’t be the first time someone mistook her for a man, and for a moment she imagined how much fun it might be to lift her visor and stun them with one of her seductive glances, something she had learned from her friend Elisa. She sat up, with a foot on the ground, and kindly motioned to those three idiots to get out of the way. They stared at her perplexedly and made it to the sidewalk, merging with the crowd.

“Only a complete jerk could mistake a body like that for a guy’s,” commented a sexy and arrogant voice.

Lucrezia turned around to see who was driving the Alfa Romeo Brera next to her, and quickly inhaled. A young man with thick black hair and a square jaw veiled with stubble was giving her a captivating smile that would have made any woman fall to his feet. Too bad he was wearing Ray Bans and she couldn’t see his eyes.

She stood still, staring at the strong arm holding the steering wheel, then she glanced at the triangle of skin that his black V-neck T-shirt left uncovered.

A choir of horns brought her back to reality, and the stranger’s smile widened.

“Fancy a race?” he proposed. “Last one to the roundabout pays for drinks.”

Lucrezia revved the motor and he did the same, apparently amused.

A second later the motorbike darted forward, leaving the car behind.

Lucrezia knew that the young man was tailgating her, but she didn’t care much. Anyway, she was almost there … but not at the finish line. Suddenly she swerved and turned onto a side street.

“Hey, where are you going?” shouted the hot guy.

She waved with her hand as she left him behind. She parked at Elisa’s, one of her two best friends, and rang the buzzer.

“Who is it?” answered Viola.

“It’s me,” shouted Lucrezia, taking off the helmet and shaking her head to revive her thick brown curls.

“Lulo’s here!”

She always smiled when her friend called her that: a lovely combination of her name, Lucrezia, and surname, Longhi.

The gate opened and she walked into the building. As soon as she knocked, Viola opened the door. “Hello, babe! Come, we’re ready.”

“You’re stunning,” winked Lucrezia.

The little yellow and black dress matched Viola’s ebony eyes and short blond hair.

“I know, right?” said her friend, dragging her to the bedroom. “And wait till you see my new lipstick!”

“Here’s Lu,” exclaimed Elisa, putting on her hoop earrings before hugging Lucrezia.

“Ready for the Night Hunt?”

About a year earlier, Lucrezia had caught her boyfriend in bed with another girl, which had devastated her. She’d known Riccardo since they were both eight years old, and she really thought one day they would marry and have a family together.

Instead he decided to bang a girl right in their own bedroom. And then he begged for forgiveness, crawling at her feet like the worm he was.

Lucrezia, who was usually very understanding and didn’t like fighting, had slapped him so hard that she made his head turn, and left a mark on his face.

Elisa and Viola had been baffled by that gesture: they had always thought that she was a softy, always careful not to cross the line — but that day, they saw what she was capable of. So they had encouraged her to bring out that side in herself, and become a man-eater.

Lucrezia followed their advice, being careful not to go too far. She didn’t want to be one of those women who sleep with a different guy every night, or who spread their legs as soon as a charming man showed his face.

“Of course not,” said Elisa with a wise look. “What matters is that you have fun. How is up to you. Now you’re free from that son of a … and you can have whatever you want, do whatever you want. There’s no one to answer to.”

Which is what Lucrezia had done.

Half in jest, half as an act of vengeance, they had come up with the Night Hunts: nights in which she and her best friends would go dancing and flirting with guys until they found the perfect candidate for a night of wild sex. Over the past year Lucrezia had slept with enough people to consider her wounds healed.

Now she was over the breakup with Riccardo, and every time she went out with Elisa and Viola, she felt freer and less clumsy.

“More than ready,” said Lucrezia eyeing Elisa from head to toe. She had always admired her friend's athletic body. Now, wearing those shorts and a stylish emerald green satin shirt, which looked great against her tanned skin, Elisa looked like a real model. Her brown hair was gathered up in a ponytail, enhancing her sculpted cheekbones, and her blue eyes shone like lapis lazuli.

Elisa and Viola were almost six years older than her, but that had never mattered: she felt much more at ease with them than with girls her own age, who seemed like silly cows to her.

“Eli, you’re beautiful,” said Lucrezia.

“Thanks, Lu,” she said, giving her a pat on the chin.

“Come on, get dressed. We’re late.”

“I've prepared everything for you,” said Viola, pointing at the little black dress lying on the bed and the heels on the floor.

Lucrezia undressed and threw the motorcycle suit in a corner. Then she put the dress on. “Sorry I’m late, I almost ran over three twats who thought I was a guy.”

“Men,” muttered Viola.

Elisa helped Lucrezia zip her dress.

“And another guy challenged me to a race,” she added, as she went to the toilet to redo her makeup to emphasize her hypnotic green eyes.

“You’re joking!” shouted Elisa. “People are insane.”

“Was he cute at least?” squeaked Viola.

Lucrezia popped in the room with a smile. “Smoking hot.”

“Lulo! And you let him get away?”

“You can be as hot as you want,” interjected Elisa, “but if you’re lacking what matters between your legs, beauty is of little use.”

Lucrezia giggled and blinked her eyelids, heavy with mascara.

“Don’t worry, Eli. You always say that I should look at a man’s hands … and this guys’ hands were really promising, believe me.”

“You’ve done well, Lu. Don’t be like those people who waste their time looking for Prince Charming …”

“I also look at a man’s eyes,” protested Viola.

“Yes, but if he’s unable to make you orgasm, as has been the case with some of us,” said Elisa, raising her voice so that Lucrezia would hear her, “then what’s the point?”

Lucrezia shook her head and put on her lipstick. By now she knew Elisa’s Handbook by heart.

“Better a real man that knows what he’s doing,” went on her friend, “than a pretty face with no clue.”

“Gee, Eli, you’re so pragmatic!” Viola winced, as if she had never heard that speech before.

“Maybe because I'm romantic …”

Lucrezia returned to them, sitting on the bed to put on her shoes. “Eli is right.”

“Then why is it that you always flirt with the cutest guys?” she reproached her. “And then you complain that none of them makes you come.”

Lucrezia rolled her eyes, and Viola arranged a curl behind her ear. “Sweet Lulo, it’s not her fault.”

“How about this?” Elisa waved two lip-glosses in front of them, and both chose the transparent one. “From tonight, when you locate your prey, you must first wait for my permission, then you can charge.”

Lucrezia sat up with a satisfied look in her eyes. “I’m in.”

“Awesome!” Viola jumped up and stood in front of the mirror to put on her bright red lipstick. “I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna have fun tonight.”

She stood in the doorway with her hands on the doorposts. Her smile hid a mischievous plan.

“Ready for the hunt?”

The Thai Beach Resort was their favorite club, and usefully only five minutes away from Elisa’s. They walked there, enjoying the salty breeze coming from the sea, which lightened the humidity in the air. The roar of the waves against the rocks managed to block out the noisy nightlife of the city. After they had arrived, the lady at the door took them to the table Viola had reserved.

The club was an oasis of green under the stars, on the beach. It was split into two different zones, with two deejays, and a VIP zone. It was all in Thai style, with an intense and inhebriating atmosphere.

Lucrezia loved losing herself in the house music — but that night she felt more like staying with her friends, drinking fruit cocktails, and chit-chatting.

“Oh my, dear ladies,” exalted Viola all of a sudden. “Check that out.”

Her friends looked in the direction she was pointing at, and Elisa gave her a condescending look. “Only you could like someone like that.”

“Everyone has their own taste.” Viola jumped up and smoothed her skirt. “Well, I have found my boy toy for tonight. So, adios!”

Lucrezia sipped her drink. Elisa shook her head. “You know,” she said, “sometimes I wonder why Viola even agrees to come with us on these nights. She's so sentimental.”

Elisa took a big sip of her Cosmopolitan and gave her friend a serious look.

“So are you. But unlike you, she pretends she can just flirt around, because she’s still not over Lorenzo.”

“He left her at the altar!” protested Lucrezia.

Elisa nodded. “She’ll be fine, she just needs more time.” She shrugged her pensiveness off and raised her glass for a toast. “To my Lu, who managed to get back on track, ready to hurt those bastards if they deserve it!”

“Oh yeah!” laughed Lucrezia, as they joined their glasses.

“Look,” said Elisa after commenting on the perfect bum of a guy who was talking to two girls at the bar, “can I leave you alone? I think I’ve found my torero.”

“Who’s that?” She pointed at him. “Hmm, not bad at all! Go for it, I’ll dance for a bit. You know music makes me crazy.”

Elisa looked at her straight in the eyes. “You remember the rules, right?”

Lucrezia raised her eyebrows. “Hey, it's not my first Night Hunt!”

“I know, but I’m asking you anyway, so I can feel better when I leave you.”

Lucrezia snorted and began to count with her fingers. “Rule number one: run away before he wakes up. Rule number two: always have a supply of condoms in your purse, because not all men are that smart. Rule number three: never scream his name when you come.”

“You’re safe on the last one,” mocked Elisa.

She pinched her. “Very funny. Weren’t you supposed to go to your torero?”

Her friend winked and stood up.

“Go get him, Eli,” Lucrezia encouraged her, watching her join a man in his mid-thirties, who possessed an almost exotic charm.

She looked around for a while, searching for someone who might grab her attention, but she kept noticing twenty-four year olds like herself. If she spent the night with an unexperienced kid again, Elisa and Viola would chop her head off.

So she downed her cocktail and walked to the bar, aiming for the man with a stellar bum.

“Hi,” the bartender greeted her. “What can I get you?”

“One Calipso Sun, please.”

“And an Aztec,” interjected a male voice. “She’s paying.”

Lucrezia turned around and her heart skipped a beat or two. She tried really hard to stay in control and play her part, but it was hard.

A few wrinkles at the corners of his onyx eyes, a mouth bent into a defiant smile, and a piercing gaze like that of a bird of prey: the man next to her was a rare beauty, and also incredibly familiar.

Lucrezia took a deep breath. “You’re the Brera guy,” she said, trying to sound indifferent.

“And you’re the girl who was too scared to lose, and who ran away instead,” he replied, leaning against the counter.

She pursed her lips. “I had no time to play with you.”

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