He’s So Bad: A San Francisco Love Story, the 8th book in the LOVE in the USA series will be released sooner than you know it. The manuscript has cleared editing and proofing, and now it’s ready for release.
Here’s the deal. I’m giving the stores in which I set-up pre-orders time to approve the final draft. Remember the fiasco on iBooks with Made To Like Her???? I don’t want any repeats.
I’m pretty happy with this story about Robert Tango. We all know Robert as a pretty conflicted kind of character. In all the previous books we have never known him as a man that’s ready for true love. And you know me as a writer who doesn’t force it.
So… I am inviting you to read the most significant transformation in this man’s life–and I think the best character transformation in the LOVE in the USA series.
Here’s a taste of what’s to come!
This excerpt contains strong language and adult situations.
He’s So Bad
A San Francisco Love Story
Five Months Ago…
She moans, and it makes me harder. We’re in the supply closet in my New York office, flanked by ballpoint pens, legal pads, staplers, and shit like that. Her stomach is pressed against my drafting table. The edge of a blueprint that I’ve been working on catches my eye. Drafting is a hobby of mine. When I have nothing to do, which is often, I walk into an old building, imagine how I would rebuild it, then return to this room and sketch my recreation.
“Shush,” I whisper to the girl. I don’t know her name, but this is the third time I’ve asked her to keep quiet.
I fuck her type often. She thinks making noises will make me come faster, and that’s what she wants. She isn’t enjoying the pounding I’m giving her. The way I’m fucking her isn’t meant for her enjoyment. It’s meant for mine.
She and I have been flirting for a while. She works on the twenty-second floor. Whenever I come to the New York office, we end up riding the elevator together at least three times a week. This morning I broke from the norm and asked if she wanted to see where I worked. She raised an eyebrow and let the door close on the twenty-second floor. The elevator opened on the twenty-third floor, and she followed me out of it. Only a few people were sitting at their desks but not for long. Like everyone else, they were on their way to the large conference room for today’s company-wide meeting.
Once in my office, she strutted around my desk, touching shit. “No pictures?”
I was dazed by how her long hair grazed the small of her back. Just beneath was one gorgeous ass just begging to be handled.
“I prefer real life,” I said.
She grinned impishly. I had impressed her with my bullshit. The truth is I have nobody to put in a picture frame. My father’s dead, and my mom abandoned me for her new husband and the children they have together.
She sat on the edge of my desk and crossed her legs, hiking up her hip. “But a picture’s worth a thousand words.”
The long muscle that ran up her thigh made my pants tight. I smirked. “How about I show you my favorite part?”
Her eyebrows crumpled. “Favorite part of what?”
“Is it this?” She spread her hand over the top of my desk as she batted her eyelashes at me.
I was the spider that had just captured the fly. I nodded toward the supply closet. “It’s in there.”
I observed the look in her eye as she calculated the risk, wondering if I was the type who would fuck her and forget her. I grinned to sway her thoughts in my favor.
“You have a Jacuzzi in there?” she asked.
I walked boldly to the closet and opened the door. “You want to come and see?”
She hesitated but chose to enter. She stopped in front of my drafting table and turned to face me.
I got close enough to feel her quick breaths against my chin. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you?” That line never failed me.
Her lips parted. “How long?”
“This long.” I pulled her soft body against me.
I kissed her gently at first. She stared into my eyes. I’d seen that look a million times. She was searching for the promise of dinner tonight and our first stroll as a couple in Central Park this weekend. My expression gave her no answers or false illusions. I wanted to fuck. Apparently she did too because she kissed me back. My dick got harder. She unzipped my pants. I lifted her skirt.
And now my heavy-lidded gaze is pinned to her round ass as I watch my dick shift in and out of her like a locomotive. The sight adds fuel to my fire, and I bang her harder.
“Shit,” I mutter. Not because my dick feels good but because she’s too inexperienced to know how to chase an orgasm and get the most out of my engorged cock.
I lift her hips about a half inch and aim for the right spots to help her out. She makes a new sound, nothing like the fake squealing noise porn actresses make. I’ll be damned if I let her leave this room not knowing that she just experienced the fuck of her life.
Since I’ve made this morning diversion worth it for her, I can let myself blow. I toss my head back. My balls tighten. Blood rushes to my dick. Then I hear…