In a Bad Way
Bad Boys of the Bay, Book 4
“Izzy and Flynn share a phenomenal connection, the sexual tension between them virtually vibrates off the pages. Ms. Tabke writes sex scenes that make you feel like a voyeur. In a good way! Whether flirty and slow to build, or fast and needy, they culminate in a knock-your-socks-off crescendo every time….If this were a paperback copy, mine would be dog-eared all over the place and the spine cracked to hell. Once again, Ms. Tabke has written a book I couldn’t put down.” —IslandDeb
What happens when Mr. Suit and Tie meets Ms. Wild Style? A chemical reaction that leaves them IN A BAD WAY!
A missing stripper sister, the Russian mob, a smoking hot FBI Agent and the enigmatic woman who lies at the center of it all, is as crazy sexy as it gets.
Isadora Fuentes will do anything to find her missing sister, even slip on a bikini and serve drinks at the strip club where her sister worked. But when Andre, the Russian giant who runs the joint, instructs Izzy, aka "Wild Style," to strip for a federal agent and make a compromising video, Izzy balks…until Andre hints he has information on Izzy's sister—for the price of the tape.
Special Agent Flynn Ryker is a loner by choice, but when his buddy gets engaged, he shows up at Surf’s Up Strip Club in San Francisco for the bachelor party of a lifetime. What he doesn’t expect is his immediate attraction to a saucy little stripper named Wild Style. When she attempts to slip him a roofie and videotape him in bed, Flynn has two options: Haul her pretty little ass in and arrest her or go along with the sting and see where it leads…
Working together to solve the disappearance of her half sister, Isadora Fuentes and Special Agent Flynn Ryker may disagree on tactics, but there's no denying the sizzling chemistry between them. Will the secrets they hide from each other ruin their chance for love?
"Whatever they had went beyond sex. He didn’t have to touch her to feel their connection. It thrummed like a live wire around them. When they came together, Jesus, the way she made him feel. Like Superman. He’d never felt anything like it." ~Flynn Ryker
Read an Excerpt
Call him a dog, but Flynn found himself riveted to his seat with a raging hard-on for this sexy little stripper. He couldn’t turn off his reaction any more than he could not draw a breath. She did something to him no other woman had ever done: captivated him. The cheers of the guys became white noise as he watched her slow, sexy moves, teasing him as she ran her fingertips along her thighs, up her slender waist, tugging at the thin golden waist chain attached to the tiny crystal belly button ring he wanted to tug with his teeth, to her voluptuous breasts. She had great tits. They moved with her body, the sway telling him they weren’t store-bought. Her nipples were hard beneath the thin fabric of her suit. It wasn’t cold in the room. Hell it was blazing hot.
She turned and thrust that sweet ass of hers at him, doing a slow air grind, her fingers sliding the edges of her bikini bottom down, giving him a glimpse of her lush cheeks. She turned slowly and as she did, she slipped her thumbs along the edges of the fabric and shimmied the bikini bottom down, teasing him with a peek at the smooth rise of her mound. He wanted to drop to his knees and bury his face there. Her soft bubble gum scent teased him. She turned with the panties drawn taut, her butt crack peeping at him. She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a look that speared him right in the dick. Her big sultry eyes closed, her full pink lips parted in invitation. Her hands trailed from her bottom to her top. Cupping her breasts, she slid her fingers beneath the sliver of a strap and slowly lowered it. Just when he thought he was going to view what he knew was a set of knockout tits, she raised the strap.
His muscles clenched tight, his breathing shallow, and damn it, he wanted to take this tiny dancer somewhere private and lay her down. Mentally, Flynn shook himself. Then he actually shook his head. He didn’t do women like this. She was the complete opposite of his “type” and he sure as hell didn’t do strippers!
He didn’t move. Hungrily, like every other guy in the room, Flynn imagined what she looked like beneath that skimpy piece of fabric.
Turning her back to him, but facing the majority of guys, Wild Style swayed to the seductive beat of the song and untied her top. He knew the moment her tits were revealed because there was a collective groan born of lust from every man in the room.
Flynn pushed out of the chair and swung it around for one of the other guys to take. Angrily, he strode from the suffocating heat of the room into the main club. The music slammed into his ears like a baseball bat. The scent of sweaty bodies and cloying perfume choked him. He hurried to the front door and finally made it out into the cool night air.
Swiping his hand across his clean-shaven chin, he shook his head. “What the hell?” What was wrong with him? He felt like an antsy, horny teenager.
He’d come reluctantly tonight and only because Jack was one of his closest friends. Frankly, he was surprised Jack went for this kind of gig. Jack wasn’t the guy who got off on this stuff, and his fiancée, Stevie, was not the calm, “sure, honey, go sow your wild oats,” type. She knew what was up tonight, no way would Jack have not told her, but the guys had insisted on a traditional send-off. They were big boys. Might as well, right?
None of that was bugging Flynn. What riled him was that bubble gum-lipped little stripper who called herself Wild Style. He wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman before and that bothered the shit out of him. He wasn’t like his father and his brother. The women Flynn associated with were class acts. Polished and educated. He bet Wild Style hadn’t made it past tenth grade. And that potty mouth of hers… “Jesus.”
“Can’t stand the heat, Slick?”
His blood warmed at the sound of her husky voice. Her bubble gum scent wafted across his nose, testing his resolve. Dragging his eyes from the busy street, he turned to look at her. She was wrapped in pink silk, but held out a glass of water to him.
“Here, looks like you need to cool off.”
He took the glass, but didn’t drink. Instead his eyes raked from her spiky blue wig across her full featured face, where he noticed the tiny diamond nose ring for the first time, down the pink wrap to her shapely legs and six-inch open-toed pink heels. His dick thickened. She was a beautiful exotic promise of nail-scratching, sheet-tearing, sex.
“Your friends are in there making fun of you for running out like a scared little boy. Drink up and go defend yourself.”
“I don’t need to defend myself.” He raised the glass to his lips. “Least of all to the guys in there.” As he tipped the glass to drink, the light from the flashing Surf’s Up neon sign shot like a laser beam through the bottom of the glass and in the blink of the flash, he caught sight of what looked like the remains of a roofie dissolving in the bottom. His cop antennae shot up. Why the conniving little—had she marked him from the get-go? Sucker fool, he’d fallen right into her trap. Anger slithered through him. He should arrest her right here. Damn if he was going to let this scam artist play him.
He lowered the glass and looked down at her, catching the desperate look in her big ocean colored eyes. Color had leeched from her previously rosy cheeks, and a thin sheen of perspiration gave her skin a sultry glow. She looked scared. No, scratch that; she looked terrified. What was she up to?
A war waged within. The cop part of him, the part that swore to protect and serve, was ready to haul her in, but the man part of him was intrigued. If he arrested her, he doubted he’d ever learn her motives. If he went along with her scam…
He sipped the water and as he did, he moved past her and pretended to chug the rest, but actually poured it into the trashcan in front of him. He turned with the empty glass and handed it to her. “Thanks.”
Her eyes widened and as she took the glass, she looked like she wanted to say something. A warning? Having second thoughts about drugging him? Anger swept through him again. He was nothing more than a mark. His ego stung and it pissed him off that she’d gotten under his skin in there. He thought he’d gotten under hers, too. He should arrest her.
Sweeping her with a long disapproving look, he would have thought knowing what he knew combined with her career choice would temper his physical reaction to her. That wasn’t the case. The ache in his groin hadn’t waned. The opposite occurred. His desire for her had become painful. “Why do you like flashing your tits for strangers?”
“Why are you such an ass?” She threw back.
He smirked. “You disappoint me.”
Her brows rose. “You don’t know me.”
“Maybe not. Even based on our brief acquaintance, I think you’re better than what you do inside the club.”
She shrugged, the edge of the wrap falling off a bare shoulder. His dick flared.
“I don’t have a problem with my chosen profession,” she said. “I’m not being forced to work here, I chose to. So take your snobby cop attitude and go home.”
Flynn didn’t let it go. “You’re not like them. There’s something different about you. Stay here long enough and you’ll end up like every other stripper in the Tenderloin.”