He's So Good, page 1
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Desire
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A Dark Billionaire Family Romance Series - Spencer
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LOVE in the USA
Find Her, Keep Her: A Martha's Vineyard Love Story
There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story
Say You Love Her: An L.A. Love Story
Know Her, Love Her
Still In Love With Her: Maggie & Vince, #1
He's So Bad, A San Francisco Love Story
Made To Love Her: Maggie & Vince #2
He's So Good: Robert & Carter
Say You Love Me: Charlie & Angel
Adore Her, More of Her: Daisy & Jack, #2
LOVE in the USA, The Hesters
Once Friends
Taming The Shrewd
Waiting On You
Playing with Fire
Tempting Fate
The Deception
Soul Mates
Vampire Saviors
Parched
Warrior
Quenched
Slayer
Ignite
Light and Speed
Vanquish
Standalone
The Sterlings Billionaire Family Saga (Books 1-3)
Watch for more at Z.L. Arkadie’s site.
He’s So Good
ROBERT & CARTER (LOVE IN THE USA, BOOK 8)
Z.L. ARKADIE
Copyright © 2016 by Flaming Hearts Press LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 978-1-942857-98-3
Created with Vellum
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the following:
Edited by Red Adept Editing
Cover Design by Z.L. Arkadie Books
Chapter One
ROBERT TANGO
She moans, and it makes me harder. We’re in the bedroom. I’m at Jack’s house in Denver for Vince and Maggie’s wedding. It’s way past midnight. It sounds as if the reception party is finally winding down. I can hardly believe I’m doing this again. She’s on top of my bed, positioned on her hands and knees, cheek kissing the pillow and ass up. I shift in and out of her steamy wetness, infatuated by her sexy profile. I’m giving it to her slowly, and it feels too damn good.
By the way she’s moaning, it feels good to her too. But these deep, overwhelming sensations racing through me are not only confined to my groin—something’s happening in my heart. The music in the distance isn’t helping me contain my emotions. The chords are slower than they’ve been all day—sultrier—and my thrusts are in rhythm.
“Oh, Robert,” she sighs and bites the tip of her thumb.
“Shit,” I whisper, trying not to let loose inside her. It’s tough because I’m so fucking turned on. I’d been fighting the urge to make love to her since seeing her three days ago. We both traveled to Denver for the wedding. I was ecstatic when Vince asked me to be his best man. He said that I was his clear choice even though I’d betrayed him.
My excitement is about to explode. Not yet. I concentrate on not coming and pull out of her pulsating wetness. I push a deep breath past my clenched teeth as I grasp her by the hips and rotate her onto her back. I open her thighs and bask in the sight of her dripping slit. Our eyes connect. The seductive way she’s looking at me makes me lose my head. My tongue itches to get a taste of her juices. She’s been creaming since I plunged myself inside her. I close my eyes and suck in air sharply between my teeth. Suddenly a feeling washes over me, and my eyes pop open. My mind starts racing because I’m confused about everything that’s going on between this sexy woman and me.
NINE HOURS EARLIER…
My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I forgot to turn it off. No one can hear but Vince and Maggie, who just recited their vows, but they’re too caught up in each other’s eyes to care. However, I did remember to silence the ringtone. I quickly reach into my pocket and smash the button to send the call to voice mail. Crisis averted.
“Maggie Conroy. Vincent Adams. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss,” the minister says.
With the kiss, it finally sinks in that Vince has done it. I was the only one who knew that he had an aversion to tying the knot. I’m positive that distaste had everything to do with his sisters pushing him to find a wife—one they approved of. They’ve been trying to indoctrinate him ever since high school. I spent many dinners with the Adams family, watching Maddie and Lexie deliberate about which of Vince’s girlfriends he should marry. One criterion was that she fit in with them, and the more WASP, the better. Vince would never say anything as his sisters tried to run his life. His actions always spoke louder than his words. After we graduated from high school, his sisters tried to hound him into marrying Emily Callahan. He broke up with her two weeks before we left for college. True to form, I came in behind him and tried to fuck away her heartbreak. It didn’t work. She tried to play the “I might be pregnant” card with him, which forced me to confess I’d been fucking her. I don’t think she ever thought I’d tell Vince the truth.
As usual, Vince handled my slight against him with a halfhearted shrug and said, “I don’t care,” in a flat voice. I’m pretty sure he didn’t give a damn. He probably was happy to be off the hook. Of course, after I confessed, she admitted that her pregnancy was a false alarm. I’ve never been the kind of guy a woman wants to trap.
Despite narrowly escaping Emily, Vince found himself staring into the eyes of a number of desperate and crazy women just like her. Then Maggie came along.
Maggie Conroy…
I've never bought into the idea of a woman looking her best on her wedding day. There’s nothing sexy about a woman in a white gown with a headpiece shoved in her hair. I've always thought a woman was her sexiest in a bikini or, better yet, naked. But the sight of Maggie challenges my belief. She looks exquisite even through her tears. The both of them haven’t stopped crying since Maggie started walking down the gold-paved aisle.
The idea of installing a shimmering gold hard-surface runner came from Monroe, Maggie’s best friend. For the most part, she and Daisy, Jack Lord’s wife, replanned the entire wedding at the last minute. It took a lot of money and competence to pull it off. I think it went like this: Maggie and Vince wanted to get married in the Hamptons, but Anne, Vince’s mother, objected and talked them into letting her plan the event along with his sisters, Lexie, Maddie, and Allie. After much arm-twisting, Maggie and Vince agreed. Vince’s sisters have always been experts when it came to manipulating circumstances to get what they want. Maggie quickly found herself losing control of her wedding day. Then, to make shit worse, Vince disappeared with only a few clues about what could’ve possibly happened to him. Maggie called her cousin Jack Lord, who rode into town on his white horse. Not knowing whether Vince was dead or alive, Maggie took off with Jack to look for him. I agreed to stay behind to look after the beautiful Mrs. Daisy Lord, who was tasked with tying up the rest of the wedding details. The guests kept rolling into town. Soon Maggie’s best friend, Monroe, showed up and made it difficult for Vince’s clan to get their way. Then Carter showed up, which made it even harder for me to forget and resist her. Eventually Vince was found, and now here we are.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the minister says.
Vince and Maggie haven’t plugged the waterworks, not even while kissing. The air erupts with handclaps, whistles, and cheers. Everybody’s happy. And I didn’t see this coming—I rub the corners of my eyes. Damn it. I paste on a smile to keep from expressing the emotion that’s brewing deep inside me. I’m so happy I want to cry too.
The ceremony is finally over. I join the constant applause. Vince and his new bride hold hands and prance up the aisle, kissing and hugging as they go. The band strikes up a tune in the tent, which is about three hundred feet away. Now that the happy couple has reached the end of the aisle, it’s my turn to go. I can hardly feel my feet under me as I lead the rest of the party into the tent. For some reason, this very moment feels like the official end of an era. I can’t decide if that sucks or if it’s welcome.
Maggie and Vince are cutting a rug on the dance floor. I move out of the way so Monroe, who’s the matron of honor, can take over and lead the parade to the stage. Jacques Blanchard and his band are playing. I knew he was scheduled to be here, but I didn’t expect him to actually show up this early. He told Daisy that he’d bring some friends to perform with him. However, he chose to keep the talent a secret. All he said was that the show would be a blast. And so far, that’s how it’s starting. I squint to make sure what I’m seeing is real. Is that Grammy Award-winning songstress Lida Cole on the stage? She’s a pop chick that shakes her ass, humps the air, and twirls her hair. The only reason I know anything about her is because Zoe sometimes plays pop music on her computer. The song Lida Cole is singing now cycles through the playlist at least once per hour. It has a catchy and popular hook about a guy who finally “booked this babe before he booked it.” I’ve accidentally found myself patting my foot to the tune. Which reminds me—I have to talk to Zoe about wearing earphones. The guests are howling with excitement. Even Maddie and Lexie are bopping toward the stage.
I gaze at the entrance, waiting for Carter to show up. I’m sure she’ll have the same reaction to our finished product as I’m having right now. Since we’re both architects, our skills were utilized to erect this magnificent tent. We spent most of yesterday directing the guys who set up the tent. Since we had our work hats on, I couldn’t address the kiss we shared in my car on Thursday. Since then, I’ve been fantasizing about her. I’m having another thought of throwing her on top of the table in front of me, thrusting myself deep inside her while sucking on her tits. My pants get tight. Damn, she has the hardest but softest nipples.
Regardless how distracting she was, together we worked out the glitches to make this happen. We had to find the perfect spot to set up the three-thousand-square-foot tent, erecting it in perfect proximity to the ceremony area and pond as well as the stuffed sheep, deer, and rabbits, which sit in a fantasyland meadow Daisy and Monroe fashioned. Carter spent a lot of time helping the crew install extra framing to support the weight of the chandeliers. I managed the flooring and sidewalls. Instead of tarps, we used glass doors. Then Hannah, another one of Maggie’s friends, came with her crew to style the interior. We all agreed to work as fast as possible in order to make it to a sit-down dinner with the bride and groom later that night. So there was no time to take Carter by the hand and lead her to a secret place to fulfill my fantasies.
I'm impressed by how well Monroe, Daisy, and Anne directed all the parts. It looks as if they paid a professional wedding planner a lot of money to conceptualize a scheme and carry it out.
Finally, Carter walks in, and she does exactly what I expected—stops to admire the ambiance. She catches me grinning at her and returns the expression. I like her—damn I like her. Then fucking Thatcher Collins, one of Vince’s friends, steps beside her and touches her back. I open and close my mouth while watching Thatcher put his lips close to her ear and says something. My ego is crushed when she cuts her eyes away from my face to nod. I feel abandoned by the one thing I sought—her attention. I didn’t know they knew each other.
The music dies down. Carter and Thatcher walk to a table and sit beside each other.
“Thank you all for coming to celebrate this joyous union,” a woman says.
I set my glare on the stage, where Kathy, one of Vince’s cousins, is emceeing. She’s standing behind the microphone, smiling as though she’s the bride. I focus on listening to her and watching Carter.
“Please find your seats right away. There are one, two, three, four, five, six guides that will help you find them. Guides, raise your hands.” She giggles.
I already know what the guides look like. They are wearing white pantsuits and gloves. It seems Carter and Thatcher have already found their table.
“Once you’re seated, your waiter will take your order. Each of you has a menu. Dinner will be served in three courses. Also, please do not neglect the bar. There are plenty of them set up along the walls, so you won’t have to wait forever to be served a cocktail.” Kathy giggles. “I heard at a certain time the only liquor that will be served is bourbon and rum, so load up on your champagne and cocktails now!”
Everyone finds the humor in what she just said, and laughter fills the tent. I locate the nearest guide and ask her to help me find my seat. The smiley young woman takes my name, checks her list, and asks me to follow her. I end up four tables away from Carter and seated between Monroe and Hannah.
Hannah looks at me with a wide grin. “Lucky me,” she says with her lips close to my ear.
I back away. I’m not a happy camper although I see how I ended up at this table. All three of Maggie’s good friends are seated here—Monroe, Hannah, and Cleo and her husband Perry—along with Vince’s buddies Pete, Josh, and Daryl—who happen to be my friends too—and their dates. Right away, the waiter takes our table's dinner order.
Monroe points at me. “Want a drink? Need a drink?”
“Nah, I’m okay.”
“What? Are you sober?”
I shrug. “I’m not in AA or anything. I just want to watch my intake.”
She tilts her head and narrows one eye. “Is today the day you want to be watching your intake, Tango?”
I laugh. “Okay, get me a bourbon.”
She winks. “Now you’re talking. And you, Hannah?”
“Champagne.”
Monroe takes everyone else’s order while she’s at it. Once she’s done, she traipses off to the bar to get our drinks. I’ve noticed that Monroe and Hannah have a love-hate relationship. I haven’t decided if there’s more love than hate or vice versa. I’m looking Hannah in the eyes as she tells me she’s going to be in San Francisco on business.
“I don’t know how long I’m staying, but we should get together while I’m there,” she says while twirling a lock of her hair.
My eyes gravitate toward Carter, and we lock gazes but only briefly. I wonder how long she’s been watching me.
“I also dabble in interior design, and I heard you’re having a hard time getting that part of your business off the ground. I can help,” Hannah continues.
I clear my throat as I’m forced to look away from Carter. Hannah finally said something worth talking about.
“Maybe you can sit down with Grace.”
“Right, Grace Kennedy,” she says in a tone that indicates some familiarity.
“Do you know her?”
She measures with her thumb and index finger. “Some.”
“Have you ever worked as an interior designer?”
“For a lucky few. I’m good at everything.” Her tone is sexually suggestive.
I search Hannah’s expression. Yep—she’s making a serious play for me, and I’m flattered by it. I’ve never been pursued by a woman of her caliber. And she’s the type of woman who doesn’t hear “no” often, if ever. Hell, I could possibly be her first no, and I hate to say it because I like her but not in that way.
“Listen, Hannah, I’m not sure what you're looking for from me…” I have to look away from her bright eyes for a second to recover. “But I’m in no shape to have a relationship.”
Her cool smile grows an inch bigger. “I understand, Tango.” She tilts her head. “We can be friends, can’t we?”
I search her expression for deception. I uncover a kernel of it, which is not enough to cause alarm. “Sure,” I finally say.
Monroe returns with a waiter, who passes out our drinks. Before taking her seat, she thanks the young guy, who’s actually the bartender, for being so nice.
He pastes on a flirtatious grin. “Any time.”
Monroe rewards him with a wink and turns her attention back to those of us seated around the table. The conversation turns to how beautiful everything is, and I somehow find myself answering a barrage of questions from Cleo, Hannah, and Monroe about leaving A&Rt Media and starting my own company in San Francisco.
