Jules hesitated, not responding right away. He dragged his tongue over her lips and she opened them. He delved inside and lost himself. She tasted the same, but different. He slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss. She moaned against his mouth and he wanted to take her right there. At that moment, he wanted her in bed, beneath him, moaning his name. But in the next instant, he felt a hand grab him by the collar and pull him back. He turned around, his arm raised to elbow the attacker. The man fell down, his head hitting the pavement hard. Jules made a desperate sound behind him, but he said nothing and stepped in front of her to face the intruder. “Fuck,” the man said. The voice was vaguely familiar as was the dark hair, strong jaw and the mean blue eyes. “Jesse?” He glanced up at Vince then groaned. “Shit, a Santini.” Vince looked down at MJ’s oldest brother wondering just what sweet hell he had dropped into.
What do You think about The Santinis: Vicente, Book 4?
