When I found out Logan was cheating I was absolutely devastated. I couldn't understand where I'd gone wrong, the house was clean every night, and dinner was waiting on the table when he arrived home from work. I'd done all the grocery shopping, paid all the bills, took care of our baby boy, Julian and worked part time at Dye Pretty as a cosmetologist. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why he'd stopped touching me anymore, or why he was constantly rejecting me when I'd asked for sex. I couldn't understand why he'd never slap my ass, or played with my títs anymore. 

He'd made it pretty clear when I'd caught him cheating with the town hussy. Walking in on him balls-deep inside her 120 pounds nearly broke me. She was everything I wasn't, at least not since High School. 

I'd opened the front door after a long night at work, Julian had come running to me, arms held up. The living room was a pigsty and Logan was nowhere to be found. I'd picked Julian up and walked up the stairs, the way up I could hear her moaning and him grunting. I remember my hearts quick pulsing; I'd caught them in action, on our bed with our year-old child baby gated downstairs by himself.

For months I'd had that gut feeling, and when I'd asked if he was cheating on me he'd said I was crazy. He'd made me feel like it was all in my head, the desperately sad thing was that I actually believed him. Or at least wanted too so bad that I'd made myself believe him. 

They were so engrossed in their disgusting sexual act, that neither of them had even noticed I'd opened the bedroom door. I had shut it silently, packed two full trash bags of Julian's clothes, toys and bathroom necessities and left. I'd left everything behind. In all honesty, I wasn't angry, or even all that hurt. I'd felt numb. Numb from all the years of neglect. It felt as though I'd walked in on my brother having gruesome sex with some tramp and not someone I had once been deeply in love with.

I'd known I wasn't in love with him anymore, I hadn't for quite some time. I thought I'd found a good man when we married, I'd thought he was the one, and that there was no way he'd ever betray me. 

He'd stayed with Tracy the-town-hussy when I'd left him. Said they were in love. The only thing that had hurt me during all that mess was the actual reason he'd cheated one me. 

Thinking back on it now, is actually quite comical, I mean, she was so into it, moaning loudly, and praising him. Like his needle sized six inch còck was the best thing since cereal. 

Judge Burke nearly laughed in his face when he'd tried to fight for custody of Julian. 

But now, a year after our divorce is finalized, I'm not wallowing in self pity anymore. I'm not insanely insecure with my postpartum body. 

And it's all thanks to one sexy Italian man. 

Dante Moretti.

****

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This new book is going to get steamy! 

Follow Mia Rose through her journey of self recovery with a little help from a sexy, occasional porn star named Dante Moretti. 

Chapter one will be posted soon. This book is NOT for the faint hearted. This book will be foul-mouthed and extremely steamy.

It took me hours to find a decent babysitter, I was seriously too paranoid for my own good. The thought of leaving my baby boy with just anyone nowadays was absolutely terrifying. 

Samantha Letty, my best friend of eleven years had practically forced me to go to this, 'Hot new club'

"You need to get out of the house, Mia. You're becoming a hermit." She'd said. I wasn't into clubs or going out at all really. I had a job, and a son. Samantha was convinced I'd grown up to soon, and now that I was divorced I should, quote-unquote 'take my life back' Whatever the hell that meant. I still had responsibilities. 

Plus, drinking wasn't really my thing. I'm a lightweight when it comes to drinking, and I don't like most alcoholic beverages anyway. 

A sudden knock at my apartment door startled me, I knew it was Samantha, and I knew she'd be pissed that I still hadn't gotten ready. I opened the door with a sheepish look, "Really, Mia? You haven't even done your hair yet!" 

"Maybe we should just go have dinner... Something relaxing, you know?" I suggested. 

She walked inside, rolling her eyes. "Or not. You need to get out, Mia. Have a little fun once in awhile." 

I groan, she was even more hardheaded than I was. It'd be useless to continue arguing, I already knew she'd win anyways. 

She grabbed my arm and practically drug me down the hall to my bedroom. "Come on, let's get you looking more like a MILF and less like a potato."

I gave a small huff and pulled my arm out of her hand. "I do not look like a damn potato, Samantha!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, I've got work to do. We are supposed to meet Shay and Emma at eight-thirty. 

Shay and Emma were friends of Samantha's. In high school I was very loud and out going, I'd had many friends. But, when I'd married Logan that all changed after a few years. He'd been perfectly charming the first year, and then it all headed down hill. He was possessive. Honestly, I hadn't minded much then, but it got too extreme. I wasn't allowed to have male friends, or have female friends that Logan didn't like. Slowly but surly, I did become a hermit. Now, it's damn near torture talking to another female, let alone a male. Panic attacks had become the norm while out in public. 

Samantha had stuck around through out it all though, she never judged me, or made me feel like I was some detached-from-society freak, and she never commented on my red as a tomato face when someone had actually spoken to me. She was hands down my person. 

I stood stock still, looking in the full length mirror hanging from my bedroom door. "Samantha, I seriously look like a fûcking hooker." She had me in a short, short off the shoulder red dress. "When I bend over can you see my àss?" I asked as I bent down to touch my feet. 

"Well yes, but you aren't supposed to bend down like that. You have to bend your knees, Mia. Everyone knows that." I rolled my eyes, I'm pretty sure she's more worried about me getting lucky rather than herself tonight. 

"I didn't even know I had this dress!" The dress was so short it could probably pass for night wear. My breast were nearly popping out of the bust. I pulled my long dark hair around to cover most of my cleavage. It'd been a long time since I'd even put on something this low cut. After Julian I didn't show much of my body, I was a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. 

She had curled my hair in soft waves, it honestly didn't look half bad. The reflection in the mirror looked kind of hot. She'd put a little gold on my eye lids and mascara. I didn't like wearing much make-up. Not that I looked better without it, I just couldn't ever remember to take it off a night. Make-up was too much work. 

She threw me a pair of black stiletto pumps, "Here, put these on too." Jesus Christ, I really am going to look like a hooker. 

"Samantha, I really don't want to go, especially looking like this." It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"You've already paid Hattie to watch Julian, just put them on, Mia." She gave a no-nonsense nod, I could never win with this chick. 

I gave a small groan as I sat on the bed to put the wretched heels on. The only important thing roaming through my mind right now is how fûcking bad my feet are going to hurt come tomorrow morning.

"My cell phone number is on the fridge, call me if you need anything! All the important numbers are there!" Hattie was looking at me like I was deranged. But, In my defense this is the first time I've left him alone with a stranger. I'd found her on AngiesList, her reviews were damn near spectacular. 

But he was my baby. 

And I didn't want to leave him. 

I felt a tiny bit pathetic, my stay home game was definitely too strong. I just wanted to curl up on my big comfy sofa and watch Disney movies on Netflix with my baby boy. But of course, I had a stubborn best friend who wanted nothing more than to get her best friend laid.

Sky Bar was only blocks from my house, if we weren't wearing such atrocious heels I'd have actually suggested walking. That way I could get her drunk and she'd forget about me being center of attention. 

The closer we got the more my heart rate accelerated, my palms were becoming sticky with sweat, and my stomach was churning. 

"Hey, Mia, you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." I replied, putting off my nerves as best I could. It'd been years since I've been out, at least out to a night club. I was eighteen my first and only time, Logan had always been a jealous man, and I was always caught in the crossfire when another man so much as said "Hi" to me. Especially if Logan was drunk. 

He'd always had a temper, and it was only heightened when he was drunk. I never quite understood how I stayed so long. Yeah you do, for Julian. 

"Babe, we're here." Samantha said, pulling me out of the hectic memories I had a hard time pulling myself out of at times. 

"Quit it, Mia." She demanded. 

I scrunched my brows together, "Quit what?" 

"Quit thinking about that douchebag." It was amazing how easily she read me, but then again we'd been friends for eleven years, she knew me like the back of her hand, and I her. 

I gave a small smile, she was right, I should quit thinking about him, at least for the night. Tonight, I should let go, have a little fun. You're not really capable of fun anymore, Mia. I commanded my conscious to shut the hell up and got out of her tiny PT Cruiser. 

The club was loud, I could barely hear anything Samantha had said, I had to read her lips as best I could, which wasn't really working out. My confused look and the many "what's?" I'd said annoyed her enough to grab my arm and drag me to the bar. She pulled a pen out of her purse and wrote on a napkin, 'What do you want to drink?" She knew I wasn't a drinker, I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. With a I-don't-fucking-know look. 

She hunched over the bar sticking her arm up to get the bartenders attention, it shouldn't take much for the tall dirty blonde headed man to notice her. She was a striking blonde herself, short with curves in all the right places. Her backside was definitely a plus with the men. 

She reminded me of a white Nicki Manaj only prettier. Just as I expected, he noticed her immediately, a mischievous grin plastered on his lips as he mouthed the words "What can I get ya?" Or something to that nature, I rolled my eyes at the wink he gave her and looked around at all the sweaty dancing bodies crowding the dance floor. 

Red leather booths and tables lined the walls. It was dark, with strobe lights flashing everywhere, the sensual bump bump of the loud music beat in my ears. 

Samantha tapped me on the shoulder, offering me a small shot glass of clear liquid. I looked up at her, a what-the-hell-is-this sort of look. She motioned with her hand to toss the shot back. I rolled my eyes and did as she instructed. I knew how to take a shot, I just didn't really know liquor, let alone like it, when I did drink all I could handle was beer. 

I stifled a cough as the liquid slipped down my throat leaving a burning sensation in its path. Fûck, I mouthed as she laughed at my horrified expression

Just the one shot had my body heating up. She ordered two beers and paid the dirty blonde headed man. We walked to a booth in a less congested corner, Emma and Shay already seated with drinks in hand. 

Emma was tall and slender with luscious fiery red hair and bright green almond shaped eyes. While Shay was the opposite, short, a little on the larger side with a brown pixie hair cut and big doe brown eyes. They were both extraordinarily gorgeous. 

Our conversations were short lived, considering it was too loud to hear anyways. I was getting drunk quick, and wanted to dance, I dragged Samantha, practically by the hair to the dance floor. 

Dancing had always been a no brainer for me, I let the music take over has I swayed my body in sync. I'd always felt sexy when I danced, a dud-step version of R Kelly's 'Bump N' Grind' was playing, I swayed my hips from side to side, my hands traveling down my body, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the music. 

A pair of hands slid around my waist, slowly coming up behind me. At first I'd thought it was Samantha, we'd always danced pretty provocatively together, so it was nothing new. But, after only a few minutes the bulge on my ass proved otherwise, I hadn't smelt the outdoorsy fresh cologne until I'd turned around, coming face to muscular chest with a tall, dark haired God. 

I hadn't stopped dancing, when his hands roamed my hips, pulling me closer to him. His plush, red lips curved into a bright smile, "Hi" he mouthed. I smiled back, heat creeping up my body, he was a good foot taller than me, with dark hair and dark eyes. He lifted a brow at me, I knew I'd been caught red handed ogling him. I turned back around, my back facing him as I ground my àss a little closer to the bulge in his pants. 

God, he's sexy. My conscious squeaked, nearly jumping and clapping her hands in glee.

****

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I knew I was inexperienced when it came to sèx, I'd only been with one man for pete's sake, but I never really understood how inexperienced I actually was, that is until the dark hair God ground his pelvis in my behind before whipping me around to press those plush lips to mine. His kiss was hard and demanding, and it surprised me that I hadn't tasted alcohol on his formidable tongue. 

Heat rose in my belly, taking a beeline to the center of my legs. I hadn't had time to even challenge his kiss, not that I was really trying to begin with. His tongue sparred with mine, leaving me hot all over, not a one person in this packed club could take my mind away from the situation at hand. 

I swayed side to side from dizziness and lack of oxygen, I didn't want it to end, but I needed to breath. As if he could read my mind he pulled back, untangling his hands from my hair and sliding them down until he reached the middle of my back. 

His strong arms steadied me, as he leaned to huskily whisper in my ear, "Dante." 

Dante? His accent was strong although I couldn't exactly place it. Sounded as though it had a Spanish draw to it? But, I was definitely no expert. 

"My names Dante, yours?" He rasped, his husky voice spilling into my ear as heat pooled between my legs. 

I scrunched my brows together, "Where are you from?" I asked, slurring my R's. 

He seemed to be chuckling, with the way his shoulders slightly lifted and the way his chest vibrated beneath my palms. His so very hard chest. God, I bet he's faithful to a gym. 

He leaned back into my ear, his warm breath was doing nothing to calm the heat. "Italy. You're quite drunk, yes?" 

I shook my head and put my index finger to my lips, "Shh, nobody knows." 

He threw his head back in what seemed to be laughter then brought his mouth back to my ear, "Would you like to go somewhere more... quiet?" He asked, 

My body begged for me to say yes, so I simply nodded my head before pulling him by the hand to my table where my purse and the girls were. 

Dante quickly stepped up to Samantha and said something into her ear, I couldn't hear what he was saying but when he was done she had a smile on her face and what seemed to be a you-so-better-tap-this look on her face. I smiled, it felt a lot bigger than a normal smile, and my lips felt numb. She rolled her eyes and spoke back to Dante. 

We'd successfully made our way past all the sweaty, dancing bodies and made it out the door, he had his large hand wrapped around my smaller one, his hand felt strong, yet smooth. I found myself silently liking the warmth of his hand in mine. 

"You never told me your name, bellissima." 

I didn't? "It's Mia. Where exactly are we going?" I asked. 

He let go of my hand, turning around to face me as he walked backwards down the sidewalk. Little shops and fast food joints lining a busy Main Street. 

"I was thinking we could get something to eat, yes?" It could have been my drunkenness, but I found his accent extremely seductive. His left brow raised in question, but what had most of my attention was the way his broad chest muscles bunched beneath his white button up. How could he walk backwards like that? So easily? Probably because he isn't shît faced, Mia.

Goody-two-shoes Mia' was starting to make feel guilty for being drunk, I had a child to go home to for heaven sakes. Maybe food and coffee wouldn't be such a bad idea. Right, because you wouldn't have went with him if it weren't a good idea, my conscious sneered. She was right though. But, it was a hundred times easier to push that thought to the back of my mind. Way in the back where all the little alien dudes had millions of useless file cabinets. 

I nodded my head, "Sounds good, lead the way, Dante." I let out a snort of laughter, "That actually kind of rhymes." 

He shook his head, a small smile creeping up his lips. "You're very entertaining when drunk, bellissima." 

"What's that mean?" I asked, The way the Italian rolled off his tongue was music to any woman's ears. 

"You see, if I tell you, then I'd have to kill you." 

I stopped, dead in my tracks. His expression was blank, giving nothing away. My heart beating a frantic tattoo against my chest. His lips twitched, trying to hold back his upcoming hysterics. 

"Chop me up in little pieces?" I asked. His smile disappeared quickly. Now, it was my turn to keep from doubling over in laughter. Unfortunately I couldn't hold off as long as he could. 

"You should see your face right now!" I rasped out between giggles. 

Dante, took me to a small Italian restaurant just a couple blocks from the club. I was already beginning to sober up just from the walk alone, but if I didn't want to wake up with a raging hangover I'd need some food in my stomach and at least a whole pot of coffee.

Dante had a playfulness about him that I found compelling. For too long had I needed to be serious, his lightness took my mind away from all the bullshît in my past and present. Conversations flowed easy with him. But what completely blew my mind was how laid back I actually felt talking to him. I wasn't embarrassed, or tripping over my words every five seconds from nervousness. 

My new found confidence could have come from the liquid shots of courage, but it didn't actually matter. 

"I recommend the Tortellini Alfredo here, they make the best." 

"You come here often?" It sounded so cliché, but I truly wanted to know. 

"Everyday actually." He replied nonchalantly, looking over the menu. 

I couldn't hardly read most of what was on the menu to begin with, almost everything was in Italian. The phrase -speaking in another language- came to mind. Come to think of it, I'd never actually spoken to a true came-from-Italy person before, and I found myself wanting to know more. 

I sat down my menu, and put my elbows on the table, resting my chin atop. "So, what part of Italy are you from?" 

He peaked up from his menu, "A small town called Ravello, just off Costiera Amalfitana ." His eyes became distant, dreamy almost. 

"What it like, Ravello?" I tried the word out, but it hadn't sounded nearly as beautiful as when he'd said it. 

He absentmindedly played with the corner of his menu. "Magnificoa, smells fresh, like the sea. And very green." He smiled "My parents still live there. Have you ever been to Italy, bella?" 

"No, I've never been outside of the country. Sounds beautiful though." 

The waitress came, a beautiful dark haired woman with massive breast, she spoke fluent Italian to Dante, and I got the sense that they knew each other. He turned to me, a bright smile on his face, "Ladies first." 

"I'd like the Tortillini Alfredo and coffee, lots of creamer, please" I wasn't drunk anymore, just slightly buzzed but I needed the coffee and food for a full recovery tomorrow. 

"What about you, were you born here?" He asked after the waitress had left us to put in our order. 

"I was born in Oklahoma, but I've lived here in Albuquerque for about three years now." 

He lifted a perfect brow, "Oklahoma, sounds so boring. Tell me more about yourself."

I thought about Julian and I never really understood why women never mentioned they had kids on the first date, Julian was my pride and joy. It did however make me nervous that he may not want anything to do with me after finding out about me being a twenty-three year old divorcée with a child. But, if he didn't, then it wasn't meant to be, right? Plus, no one ever said this was a date, anyway. 

I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. "I have a handsome little boy, he's almost two. He's my world." I thought about mentioning Logan and our divorce. But, for some reason I didn't want to completely scare him away.

He looked baffled, and I suddenly became nervous, "How old are you, bella?" 

Is this going to be another, 'Wow you were so young' comment? I really hoped not. "I'll be twenty-three in October. You?"

"I turned twenty-six in February." 

"February what? My son was born February 12th." 

"The 17th is mine. You have such love in your eyes when you speak of him. And... The father, if you don't mind me asking?" 

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "We divorced a year ago." 

He scrunched his eye brows together, creating a perfect V between the two. "What did he do?" 

How had he known it was Logan that had screwed up? Can he read my mind? "Your face is an open book, bellissima." Yes, he can read your mind, I thought. 

"He cheated." I stated trying to hide the hatred from my expression. 

"Ahh, what an idiota! Sei la ragazza più bella che abbia mai visto" 

I'd lost him after only three words. The only word I had  even remotely heard was 'idiot'. I knew enough Spanish to take a guess that it was the same in Italian. At least I'd hoped. I guess my confused face gave me away, once again.  

"He's an idiot, I'm lost as to why someone would want to cheat on such a beautiful woman." He said. 

My gaze quickly dropped to my hands, trying to hide the blush that crept up my face. It'd been awhile since I'd been complemented, and I'm pretty sure the last time was from Samantha, or my mother... 

His finger touched lightly just under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen"

****

How freaking cute is that?!

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