Salsa (Sultry Nights 1) & Tango (Sultry Nights 2)
by Melanie Munton
Release Date: August 6th 2018
Cover Designer: L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations
Genre: Romantic Suspense/ Erotic Romance 
SALSA
(Sultry Nights 1)
Salsa (n): a sultry, dynamic dance with smooth, fluid movements; usually an introduction to other Latin dances
All Sophie Fuentes wants to do is lead a normal life and take care of her family. That’s kind of hard to do, though, when she’s forced to work for a drug cartel and the boss is Satan himself.
Undercover DEA agent Max Romano doesn’t see Sophie coming. His assignment is to bring down Miami’s most dangerous drug lord…not to become obsessed with the feisty dancer at the cartel's underground nightclub.
She’s in danger. He vows to protect her.
The only problem is…he’s been lying to her from the beginning.
She doesn’t have a clue who he really is, and he can’t tell her because she’s the key to his investigation. But he’ll do anything to keep her safe.
Even hold her hostage.
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TANGO
(Sultry Nights 2)
Tango (n): dance characterized by drama, attitude, and passion with a provocative rhythm
Protecting her family is the most important thing in the world to Sophie Fuentes. Which is why she’s not going to let LA drug boss Max Ramirez run roughshod over her. He wants to hold her captive in his penthouse suite and use her for his own pleasure like some sort of play thing? Fine. She doesn’t have much of a choice.
But he should be careful what he wishes for.
Undercover DEA agent Max Romano is quickly losing control of the situation with Sophie. He needs the information she has on her cartel boss in order to lock him up for good. But his undeniable lust for her is getting in the way of his job. Not to mention the guilt he feels for lying to her about everything.
He told himself to stay away from her. Told himself to focus on the job.
But now it’s too late.
Because he’s already in too deep.
And the more he uncovers about Sophie's boss and her own past, the more Max realizes just how much danger he's already put her in.
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The song ends, and a spicy samba number immediately ensues.
The need to take advantage of the music claws within me, desperate to break free. I raise a challenging eyebrow at him. My gorgeous, mysterious savior.
His answering smile is devious.
“Let’s see what you got, Sophie.”
He asked for it.
Never breaking eye contact, I stand alone and provoke him with my favorite hip rolls. I know the slit in my dress rides up my thigh as I bend my knees, reveling in his heated gaze. His eyes find that slit and don’t stray until I start taking slow, measured steps toward him on my toes. Recognizing my challenge, that devious smile reappears as he grabs my wrist and hauls me into him.
He doesn’t wait for me to take his hand.
He doesn’t ease into the motions.
The slow rumba is gone.
Now, his aggression comes out. And I freaking love it. That’s what a samba is. It’s aggression, it’s passion, it’s lust and desire on the dance floor with some quick footwork thrown in.
He takes the dominant role as he leads us around the floor in the forward basic steps. I’m following with no problem, but if he wants me to spin, he grabs my hips and makes me spin. If he wants me to dip, he grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me down into a dip. And if he wants to lift me, he doesn’t hesitate to boldly grab my hips or just below my ass and lift me as he pleases.
God, this feels good.
Dancing with a man who knows how to take charge. Who knows exactly what he wants and just fucking takes it without asking for permission. I have a sense that he would ask if he felt even the slightest hesitation on my part, but he doesn’t have to wonder about that.
I’m so damn willing in his arms it’s almost embarrassing.
I’m so desperate to experience passion with another person that I’m pathetically throwing myself at this guy.
It doesn’t stop me, though.
A light sheen of sweat covers my skin as he presses our bodies close together. So close that I can’t tell where my body stops and his begins. Our feet are completely in sync. Our breaths come out in the same staccato rhythm. It’s like we were born to dance together.
“What do you think?” he murmurs. “Do I meet your standards?”
Our faces are only inches apart, our eyes locked together in a battle I didn’t realize was ever started. I feel his warm breath skate across my cheek. His features cloud with lust and without giving it a second thought, I know mine do, too. I can’t control my visceral reactions to this man.
“I’ve seen worse.”
When the song hits the slower beats of the bridge, he abruptly spins me around so my back is against his front. Shoving my mane of hair off my shoulder, he buries his face in my neck and thrusts his hips against my ass. My breath catches in my throat at the noticeable bulge he’s grinding against me.
“Funny, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything better than you,” he whispers into my ear.
I tip my head back until it’s resting on his shoulder. “I find that hard to believe.”
His hands drift down to my thighs and slowly inch my dress up, exploring my bare skin. He’s still controlling our movements, and I’m still letting him.
It’s fucking thrilling.
“Why?” he breathes. Then he forcefully drives his hips against me, placing his cock right at the crevice of my thighs, drawing a gasp from me. “Is this not proof enough?”
Dios. His dancing is like sex.
And I’m sure he’s equally phenomenal at both activities.
Just the feeling of having his demanding hands on me causes my pulse to spike. My heart is already beating out of control. Judging by his ragged breaths, his is also.
Like a flash, he spins me around once again to face him. His pupils are so dilated, his chocolate irises have disappeared.
“What about you, Sophie?” he asks. “Are you feeling this, too?”
Melanie grew up in a small town in rural Missouri. After marrying her husband, she decided she wanted to try coastal life because why not? A few months later, they moved to North Carolina where she discovered her passion for writing, and they never looked back. They are now enjoying life with their beautiful daughter in Savannah, GA and loving every minute with their little Georgia peach.
Melanie’s other passion is traveling and seeing the world. With anthropology degrees under their belts, she and her husband have made it their goal in life to see as many archaeological sites around the world as possible.
She has a horrible food addiction to pasta and candy (not together…ew). And she gets sad when her wine rack is empty.
At the end of the day, she is a true romantic at heart. She loves writing the cheesy and corny of romantic comedies, and the sassy and sexy of suspense. She aims to make her readers swoon, laugh out loud, maybe sweat a little, and above all, fall in love.
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