From the Publisher that brought you popular short story romances Witching Call, Hostile Hearts, Earthbound Angels, January Morrison Psychic Files, Ralph's Gift, Eve Snow Psychic P.I., In the Blood, Sex Demons, The Halloween Awakening, The Whispering, Seasons of Love and Friend Zone. Now, here is Ms. Bookworm and Mr. Sex Symbol...
HE IS THE ONLY MAN IN HER DREAMS, AND HER SECRET FANTASY IS...
MORE AND MORE OF HIS... STUFF
Rachel rebounds from the assault at the garden while Sam does his own thing around campus. Although each person misses the other badly, neither one reaches out, afraid to find the other one has moved on too quickly.
But when they bump into each other at another party and things get steamy, there is no question about going on. Deciding to head back to Sam's place instead of risk getting walked in on, they head out, leaving their dates behind.
Things at Sam's place get hot and heavy. They like each other enough to admit wanting to remain doing what they're doing. Will Sam and Rachel continue to hit it off, though, intellectually, that is? They are both willing to find that out.
But what of Kurt Sully? Will the lurking menace rear his ugly head to inflict some kind of revenge?
Find out by reading on!
***Warning: This story contains adult themed graphical descriptions that a small number of readers might find offensive, including sexual acts and suggestive themes.
Sam had grabbed Rachel by the shoulders to keep her from falling and lifted her back on her feet before he noticed who she was. Now that he stood holding the person who'd been on his mind for weeks at a time, his mind went blank and he got the classic deer in the headlights look on his face.
Sam held her like this for a second before releasing his grasp and letting his hands fall slowly to his sides.
�How have you been?� Sam asked.
�Good,� Rachel said. �I've been good. How have you been? You're here with��
Sam took her gently by the hand, interrupting her, and quietly led her to a small adjacent room, closing the door gently behind him. It was dark for a few moments before Sam pulled a light cord hanging down from the ceiling, and light flooded through the room, revealing a washer and dryer to go along with the smell of detergent.
�How have you really been?� Sam asked. �I mean, are you doing okay? For real?�
�Yes, Sam,� Rachel said. �I'm really doing okay.�
Suddenly, the beat of rap stopped pulsating through the house and was replaced with slow dance music, a song neither of them had heard since high school prom.
They both looked at each other and dropped their pretenses.
Rachel took a step closer to Sam and put a hand on his chest. He circled her hips with his arms and they started to sway slowly with the music. Rachel leaned into Sam, snuggling her head into his chest.
�Oh, Sam� I've missed you,� Rachel said.
�I've missed you, too, Rachel,� Sam replied.
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|Publisher:||Publications Circulations LLC|
|Sold by:||Barnes & Noble|
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About the Author
C.J. McLane was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to a family that runs a business in the music industry.
He grew up listening to demos of aspiring musicians which molded him into a man with a great passion for art. It was a different kind of art, however, that C.J. wanted to pursue academically.
C.J. fell in love with photography because he was constantly amazed by the fact that one picture could tell a lifetime�s story. He did an excellent story-telling job behind the lens. But when he purposefully acquainted himself with photo descriptions, he found a new love � words. He always dreaded writing, mostly because his cursive was so incomprehensible that his essays in middle school received low grades. �But he�s got a keyboard now, and a pool of writing ideas backed by his journeys and experiences � which he likes to call the rocking party life of a college guy.
Young as he is, C.J. aspires to tell stories that involve his most favorite photography model � a half-naked woman � and the healthy night sweats that come with it.
Author and his Genre
I wasn�t born with lustful thoughts and desires. Just like every newborn baby, I came from pure innocence. But early on, I discovered the excitement of the female body.
My first crush was on my nanny. I was five, fifteen years younger than she was. Despite the age difference, I can honestly say I did a darned good job of trying to get close to her. I would sob over a horror movie, a small bruise on my knee, and even a lost penny! Sobbing is not a manly thing to do, but I was a man on a mission. And I did not mind being a crybaby because my darling nanny Isabel would hug me so tight that I could feel her breasts hard against me. That was heaven for a little boy. Decades later, I discovered heaven of a more intense sort. (Mind you, heaven does get better when you get older!)
I�m a man with needs. And my books feature most of my favorite forms of satisfaction. I could not find a better story to tell than that.
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