Read Illicit Temptations (Tempted Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Janine Infante Bosco
Tags: #Janine Infante Bosco
“Oh yeah?” She asked, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Why is that?”
“Because I want this to be home, but it can’t be unless you share it with me.” I say huskily my eyes darting down to her mouth briefly before lifting to meet her eyes again. “Move in with me Princess.” My words don’t come out like a question but more like a demand as my hands moved to her hips. In one swift move, I lift her onto the counter top and position myself between her legs. “What do you say? You and me forever?”
“Forever and ever.” She says, wrapping her legs around my waist. I don’t give her a chance to say anything else as my mouth slams onto hers sealing our promise to share forever with one another.
I don’t know why I’m writing this letter to you, it's probably because this shit with Rogers scares the living daylights out of me. It was different when we were first starting out, less responsibility I suppose. We were just two guys from Brooklyn who wanted to be successful, we wanted to rise above what people thought we were. People in the neighborhood didn't think we’d amount to much hell our own folks didn't either. Maybe we should've listened to our mothers when they said take all the city tests at least we would’ve been able to retire with a pension. There is no retirement plan for us. We’re in too deep the only way out is in a box or in cuffs and I'm really not sure which is worse.
We are in the middle of a war and it would be a goddamn miracle if we both came out of this shit alive. When honest soldiers that defend our country go to war, they get medals and all sorts of honors when they become a casualty. Not us, we get a headline in the newspaper calling us thugs. So why did we do it? Why did we choose this lifestyle over all the honorable ones we could’ve had?
We were greedy that's why and in some circumstances lazy too. It was always easy to turn a quick hundred bucks into a thousand without having to punch a clock. It was no sweat off our backs to throw on a ski mask and rob a truck full of electronics to sell on the streets. Those were the days. The days when we would blow up the whole neighborhood on the Fourth of July and the cops would help us instead of looking to arrest us. The days our kids looked up to us as if we were heroes and not the criminals we are.
Even though we took the illegal path, we tried our best to stay true to our families and ourselves. We didn’t want our shit to touch them so we tried our best to give them the finer things in life, telling ourselves all the while what we did was okay because we still were honorable when it mattered most. I think that’s why this situation with Rogers is keeping me up at night. I wouldn’t want the drugs he’s trying to push onto our streets to touch my son. I lay awake thinking if we fail at this and Rogers gets the upper hand who is to say ten years from now I don’t bury my son because he overdosed on Rogers’ product. I don’t want that and if I can do something to change that, I am going to do it. If our organization can accomplish one good thing by keeping the kids in this neighborhood safe then all the bad shit we have done may just be worth it.
I want you to know that even though I’m having mixed feelings about this situation I wouldn’t change a thing about our partnership. The loyalty we have for one another is unheard of, especially in our world. I would jump in front of a gun for you because I know you’d do the same and not because we’re abiding by some code of honor but because we’re brothers. Maybe not by blood but by everything else and that shit runs deeper than blood that doesn’t leave you when you die it stays with you and goes wherever the fuck you go when you check out.
I know that without any doubt in my mind that if only one of us comes out of this thing the one left standing will do right by the people we love. I know that if I don’t make it out of this you will give my boy a chance at a good life, you’ll be there for him and teach him how to be a man and not the kind of man you and I are but the kind that we had hoped we would’ve been. I know that you’ll teach my son the right way, that you’ll show him a different path. One that he can hold his head proudly and say he took. I also am sure that you would take care of my Maryann. I hope you know that I’d do the same. I think you do, I like to believe that you do anyway.
Let’s shut this motherfucker down Vic. Let’s do it for our kids so that they never know how ugly life can be. Let’s do it for the two kids we once were and if the temptation wasn’t there maybe those kids would’ve had a chance at something better.
I’ve got your back and I know you’ve got mine,
Val
Illicit Temptations
By
Janine Infante Bosco
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Published by Janine Infante Bosco
Edited/formatted by: Jennifer Bosco
Cover Design by: Hang Le
ISBN: 9781495168840
If I had to acknowledge all the people in my life that are constantly showing me support, this page would exceed the word count of the actual book. I am very fortunate for the people in my life who all play a significant role in the most amazing support system a woman could ever ask for.
From the bottom of my heart, I thank each and every one of you. It’s been a very trying year thus far but with the help of all of you, I pushed forward and wrote Illicit Temptations. I have found the courage to thrive because of the wonderful friends and family in my life. The people who maybe held my hand, brushed away my tears, or told me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The people who saw Janine Infante Bosco wrote a book and not knowing a damn thing about her took a gamble and read her book. People who didn’t shoot me down when I said I wanted to started writing, the people who believe in me on a regular basis.
I don’t have to write an extensive list of names or tell you what you’ve done to make me value you in my life. You know who you are, you are the people who unwaveringly stand beside me motivating me to be the best version of myself. I am so thankful for all of you.—
Janine
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Janine writes emotionally
charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
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Coming Soon
Prologue: February 2012
Anthony
I had eight months and six days left of sleeping on this piece of shit bunk bed in this piece of shit jail cell with an annoying little fuck for a cellmate to say my life had turned to shit was an understatement. I was doing a three-year bid for possession and distribution of narcotics if that’s not a fucking joke I didn’t know what is. I have done a lot of fucked up shit most of it illegal, but I never did drugs. Never sold them and never fucking snorted them so it was pretty fucking funny that I went away for both. But I didn’t have a say in the matter if I wanted to climb the ranks in the mob I had to do what the fuck I had to do and when the boss told you that you needed to do a bid you did it. The same goes for when the boss tells you the sole purpose of being incarcerated is so that you murder the man who ordered the hit on his Underboss. You don’t ask questions you just do it. Too bad that plan went astray when my mark was sent to a maximum-security prison before I could get the job done.
I stared up at the ceiling, trying to tune out the little shit that was in the cot below me running his mouth I swear to God he loves to hear himself talk.
“Overheard the C.O.’s talking about your next fight Bianci. They’re worried that you’re going to get your ass kicked like you did the last two fights.” Cheech said pointedly getting my attention with that.
He was right, I did get my ass kicked still sporting a black eye as proof, but not because I couldn’t fight. I was built like a machine my power was undeniable and when you put a pair of boxing gloves me I was goddamn bull fucking indestructible. I had purposely thrown my last two fights because I wanted to feel the pain each hit a reminder that I was a greedy bastard living in a self-created hell and had destroyed everything that mattered to me. I had destroyed
her
.
“I don’t give a fuck what people are saying. They’re only concerned about who they’re going to bet on and which inmates going to bring them the sweet payoff.” I said.
The correction officers here were a bunch of jerk offs thinking who the fuck they were because they had a badge made me want to look in their smug faces and tell them that they weren’t real cops that their mother’s probably made them take the city test because they knew their sorry asses wouldn’t amount to shit. They didn’t respect their badge or bleed blue they fucking bet on the inmates slipped us cigarettes and turned their fucking heads so we could beat the living fuck out of one another. My boss, Victor had half these guys in his pocket and if my mark hadn’t been shipped, to maximum they would’ve locked me in a room with him and walk away so I could murder him. Don’t get me wrong, they were cool to me, but that’s because they didn’t have much of a choice if they wanted that extra cash in their pocket they had to treat me like a fucking king or Vic would cut them off.
“You going soft Bianci?” Cheech asked, trying his best to rile me up. He probably had half his commissary down on my fight.
I cracked my bruised knuckles and debated if I should tape them now or wait since I still had time before the fight. The C.O.’s wouldn’t be bringing my match and me out to the yard until after visiting hours were over. Sunday’s were a big day for visitors and the hours stretched long everyone and their mother trooped it up here to see the guys. Me? I didn’t get many visitors not on Sundays not on any days not really even on holidays.
It wasn’t always like that when I was first incarcerated I had many visitors. Victor and the guys would come up to talk business with me and make sure I was keeping my head. Vic was really concerned that I’d go fucking crazy in the pen, but I kept my cool kept to myself threw myself into boxing and at night when I closed my eyes I’d dream of
her
.
She visited me a lot in the beginning weekly in fact until I told her I didn’t want her up here anymore. I just couldn’t stand sitting across from her looking into her sad eyes, knowing I was the reason she looked so broken. I broke her heart the day I stepped on that state bus, and then I completely crushed it the day I told her I didn’t love her anymore and that she needed to stop coming to visit me because she was only making a fool out of herself.