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He had me. “Look. Our date was fun. Really fun. Possibly the best I’ve ever had.” Okay, wait. I knew I had a point to make here. “But it’s not like we could start actually dating, you know? I can’t see us just being bosom buddies either. It’s nothing personal, it just is what it is.”

“I hate that saying. Everything is what it is. It makes no sense.”

“Well, however you want to say it. I really have to get going, Enzo.”

“Fine. One more thing though. If you really have no interest in me, explain this.”

“What?”

“This.”

Right there amongst the bibb and romaine lettuce, slow as could be, he hauled me up against him. My breath hitched and my hands involuntarily slid up his chest. All on their own my lips parted, and I tilted my head up.

“This, Chloe. What about this?” His lips were hovering scant inches above mine. His touch was electrifying at every point of contact, but maybe it wasn’t his touch specifically. Maybe any man’s touch would make me feel that throb deep down inside. I owed it to myself to find out. “Well? What do you have to say about this?” He rubbed his hands up and down my back, almost making me moan.

“Chemistry. Pure and simple. I don’t deny it. Now, I have to go.” Before I could let my body change my mind, I pushed away from him and took off toward the deli counter, hoping like hell he’d let me go, and he did. So why was I disappointed?

Well, not really. Looks like Chloe's getting her own story next. Her guy's not be a Perfect Ten though. He's a Stallion. ;)

"Holy shit." I grabbed Faith's arm and spun her around to look in the direction I was. "It's him!"

"It's who?"

“That guy from the other escort service. He was there the first time we watched Joe play basketball against them. The one with the scar? I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“You would not. You should, but you wouldn’t.”

She was half right. This time last year I wasn’t ready. I’d only been divorced for a year and was still hurting, but you know what was hurting me now? My clit. It felt totally abandoned and I needed to rectify that A.S.A.P. “I sure as hell would. I’m horny, Faith. Actually, that’s not true. I’m WELL past that stage. I need it. I want him.”

Before I lost my nerve, I jogged right up to him in the produce aisle. “Hey. You work at Studs, don’t you?”

“You mean Stallions? Yes.” He stood there and looked me over, his eyes widening in recognition after a few seconds. “You came to watch us play ball a while ago. Damn, you’ve changed.”

Well, hell. Let’s just put it right out there. “Yeah. I’ve gained two or three or twenty-five pounds. What of it?” I wasn’t really uncomfortable with my weight, but his comment still pushed my button—and dammit!—that wasn’t the button I wanted him to push.

He made a twirling motion with his hand and I figured, what the hell? I spun around for him. “Hell yeah you did, and may I say they landed in all the right places?”

It's live ! Woot, woot!! Since GRs won't allow me to post the links, hop on over to my FB page for easy access to them (in my NOTES section and on my wall).

And don't forget to enter the Raffle for a Perfect Ten locket!

www.facebook(dot)com/michellecraigauthor

Happy Wednesday!

Go check it out! :)
michellecraigauthor(dot)com

I wish I could post pictures on here. Joe is really looking forward to meeting you all.

Good God, he's hot!

His story is with my beta readers and then off to the editor's. Hopefully we can get this out by the end of the month!

If you'd like to see the picture teasers I've posted, check out my FB page.
facebook(dotcom)/michellecraigauthor

It's taking me so long to get to this book, due to other projects, that I wanted to give you all my short prologue and let you know that I am back at work on this steamy novel! :)

***SUBJECT TO EDITING***

“That’s it. Fuck, yeah. Just like that.” Christ! Will I ever get sick of getting blown? “Softly now, sweetheart. Oh yeah, that’s it. That’s perfect.” I watched her lips slide slowly over my dick. I could feel her tongue lick at my balls when she took me in all the way to the hilt. Was there a man alive who didn’t love this?

“I’m gonna come right down your throat. Is that what you want?” She moaned and curled her fingers into my ass confirming what I already knew. She was yet another wild wife who didn’t get the attention she needed from her husband. “Ahh, God!” I grabbed a fistful of her hair and moved her head faster, watching her suck me in over and over. “I’m gonna fill your mouth.” I came, thrusting deep into the back of her throat. She gagged on it, and I came some more. When she spit me out, I took my dick in my hand and continued to pump myself until I had nothing left. I was mostly done at that point, but I still had enough left to shoot a couple of hot drops on her face. Lucky girl.

***

My life wasn’t always like this, but it is now. I can pretty much fuck who I want, when I want. Yeah, I’m that good. And no, I’m not humble. If you’re good at something be proud of it. Own it. Now before any of you women get up in arms thinking I’m a selfish piece of shit who only cares about getting himself off, get the whole story. Talk to one of my dates. They’ll tell you what’s what.

I admit that I might hold their head down on my dick a couple of seconds past pleasant. I might ram into them from behind a bit too hard in the heat of the moment now and then, but ask them how their night was. Besides, there’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. I haven’t had a complaint yet, and this is why—I don’t come until she does. If I can’t make her come, and come hard, before I do, then I’m not doing it right. So, yeah, I’m that good.