He lifted his head and cupped her face. “I’m so happy right now.”
“I have one question.” She couldn’t contain the happiness bubbling inside her and let it spread across her face. “Can we buy the Naughty Nights game off Faith?”
He smiled. “Absolutely.” With a quick glance at Charlie, he moved closer to her and hovered his lips above hers. “When we’re married, I think we should make every night a naughty night.”
A shiver ran through her at the thought of being able to role-play with him for the rest of their lives. “I like that idea.”
And she let him kiss her again as Charlie rocked slowly in front of The Simpsons, oblivious to the sparkling future that lay ahead.
About the Author
Serenity Woods lives in the sub-tropical Northland of New Zealand with her wonderful husband and gorgeous teenage son. She writes fun, flirty and sexy romances in a variety of romance sub-genres.
She’s won several romance writing competitions and is a member of the Romance Writers of New Zealand. She would much rather immerse herself in reading or writing romance than do the dusting and ironing, which is why it’s not a great idea to pop round if you have any allergies. You can check out all her books at www.serenitywoodsromance.com.
Look for these titles by Serenity Woods
Now Available:
Something Blue
White-Hot Christmas
Seven Sexy Sins
Sensual Healing
An Uncommon Sense
Making Sense
Coming Soon:
Talking Sense
Five Exotic Fantasies
What if love can’t heal all wounds?
Fix You
© 2012 Mari Carr
Second Chances, Book 1
After too many years of secretly loving her best friend, Zoey realizes she’s been shortchanging herself. It’s time to take action. This New Year’s Eve heralds the year she’s going to tell Rob the truth. Even if he is on the road, reaching for musical stardom with his band.
Her plan is derailed when she discovers a lump in her breast—and it’s not “nothing to worry about”. How can she ask Rob to take a chance on love when her future is so uncertain?
Rob has spent his entire life chasing his dream, but the moment he hears Zoey’s voice on the phone, he realizes he’s been running the wrong race. Zoey never sounds like she’s been crying. Ever. Without a second thought, he books a flight for home, determined to give her everything she needs. A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold…and nights of intensely emotional, passionate sex.
His biggest challenge, though, is convincing his best friend that he’s in it for the long haul. Because he finally knows what he wants, and it’s not fame and fortune. It’s her—and her love.
Warning: This book runs the emotional gamut between scorching-hot passion and the pain and fear associated with cancer. Keep a box of tissues next to your glass of ice water.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Fix You:
Rob stared down at Zoey’s face as she slept. Her eyes were still puffy from last night’s tears. Neither of them had moved from the couch. Instead, he’d lain down next to her and held her as she silently wept. Pinpricks attacked the arm he’d wrapped around her, his hand numb from lying in the same position for so long. He didn’t bother to move. It felt too good holding her like this.
Some truths were crashing down on him. He’d been an ass, living his life like he had all the time in the world. Their time on this planet was far from infinite, and yet he’d squandered years of it, working on his career, focusing solely on making it big.
For what? Fame? Money? Why the hell did he need that shit?
He’d always taken it for granted that Zoey would be here for him. How the fuck was he supposed to go on without her? The moment she’d told him about the cancer, the light had gone on.
I’m in love with her. Christ. I’ve been in love with her since the first day I laid eyes on her.
Zoey stirred. Rob’s heart began to race as her eyes opened slowly. He wasn’t wasting a second more. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
She was disoriented for a moment before she lifted her gaze and smiled.
With his free hand, he stroked her face softly. “Zoey.” Her name fell from his lips on a hushed whisper, his chest constricting under the weight of every emotion under the sun—love, fear, happiness, panic, a raging case of nervousness.
What if she didn’t feel the same way?
“Yeah?”
He took a deep breath. Fear wasn’t going to hold him back another second longer. “I’m going to break my promise.”
“What promise?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he bent his head and kissed her. Time froze as their lips met. Rob was transported back to that day in the park, to the truth that should have been obvious all those years ago. He’d been a blind, inexperienced boy back then, but now…his eyes were wide open.
It was her. Zoey. For him, it had always been her.
The kiss was a gentle touch at first, but when Zoey’s lips softened and accepted his, he deepened it. Her small hand cupped his cheek, exploring his face hesitantly before growing bolder, stroking it.
The smell of cinnamon enveloped them, her candle still burning from the night before. He knew in his heart that from now on, that scent would always make him think of her. Of this moment.
His heart lodged in his throat when he realized the magnitude of what was happening, of what he wanted to happen next. He was kissing his best friend. And she was kissing him back.
Encouraged, he opened his mouth, stroking his tongue against hers. The kiss grew harder, hungrier. For several minutes—hell, it could have been hours for all Rob knew—they simply kissed, learning each other’s taste, texture. Her skin was soft beneath his fingers as he caressed her delicate cheek. Her breathing grew heavier, the heat of it warm against his skin.
When he finally moved away, she was there, looking at him, studying his face. Hers was the picture of confusion, wariness…and desire. He latched onto the last like a dying man clinging to life. She wanted him.
“Still weird?” He needed the joke, needed to get his bearings. His emotions were too raw, too new, too close to the surface.
She shook her head slowly. “No. Not even close.”
“Good. I’ve been practicing.”
She laughed uneasily. “You’re insane. What the hell prompted that?”
He knew her. Knew she’d try to twist this into something innocent, funny. He wouldn’t let her. He ran his hand through her dark hair, overwhelmed by the need to touch her. “Just figured it was past time. You mind if we talk about this after?”
“After what?”
He let his body answer the question. Turning so they lay face to face on the couch, he placed his lips back on hers. He didn’t want to push her. After all, she’d just received life-altering, horrible news. He’d keep things easy, let her set the pace.
She didn’t resist his kisses. Her hand traveled along his shoulders and down his arm before landing on his chest. Her lips pressed against his harder. Then she moved away, an infinitesimal distance.
“Touch me,” she whispered, her hand fisting in the cotton of his shirt.
He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands roamed along her sides, drifted beneath her T-shirt.
She shivered when he caressed the bare skin of her waist. He stoked her arousal, kissing her harder as he explored every bit of bare flesh he could reach beneath her shirt. He forced air into his lungs, fought to keep his hands steady as he touched her.
The slight tremor in his hands seemed to distract her. She was the first to pull back. “Robbie, are you sure—?”
“After,” he repeated. He gripped her hip, dragging her closer. There was no way she could misconstrue how far he’d go if she was willing. His cock was hard, ready.
She bit her lip and he could sense she was struggling to make a decision. He wouldn’t force her into anything she wa
sn’t ready for. Hell, he’d be perfectly content to spend the next dozen years or so simply kissing her. Making up for so many wasted years. “Zoey—”
She shook her head and closed her eyes, but not before he read the hungry need there. Then she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh. She thrust closer. It was an outright invitation. “After,” she whispered, her voice steadier than he expected.
One night can loosen the grip of the past. Only love can break it completely.
Making Sense
© 2012 Serenity Woods
Sensual Healing, Book 2
Freya Fletcher longs to travel and use her nursing skills abroad. But while her father keeps gambling away her meager savings, she’s anchored to her hospital job and family responsibilities.
When friends ask her to a bar one evening to support a local band, Freya goes along reluctantly. But she’s glad she took the night off when gorgeous Nate Taylor turns out to be the lead guitarist and singer. Too bad there’s no room in her complicated life for anything resembling love.
Following a car accident at age fourteen, Nate awoke with an ability to heal. Now, hounded by the family that used him, haunted by the memory of a boy he couldn’t save, he is a man on the run. Although the promise of peace glows brightly in Freya’s beautiful eyes, his past, weighing heavily on his soul, won’t let him reach for it.
Luckily, the delectable Freya doesn’t want a relationship either. They come together for one night, just casual, no strings. But one night quickly turns into several. Before long they’ve fallen in love, but until they can find a way to break free of their pasts, a happy future will remain only a distant dream.
Warning: An unashamedly romantic and sexy story guaranteed to make you laugh and cry. Please do not read unless you like brooding heroes, fun and feisty heroines, and a touch of the Twilight Zone.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Making Sense:
Her phone jangled in her pocket, and she took it out, giving him an apologetic look. “Excuse me.” She flipped it open and pressed a button, reading a text. Her pace slowed, and he watched her read, pausing next to her as she stopped.
“Shit,” she said vehemently.
“Bad news?”
She glanced up at him, agitation and frustration written all over her face. Flipping the phone shut, she looked away, biting the soft bottom lip he’d been unable to drag his eyes from since he met her. “Oh, it’s just…stupid family stuff.” She started walking again, and he joined her, saying nothing until she stopped outside a large, whitewashed house, tucking the phone in her pocket.
“Thanks for walking me home,” she said, but the starlight had gone from her eyes, leaving them dull and flat.
He could feel the waves of despair rolling from her. “Anything I can do?”
“No…” She looked down, obviously trying to control herself, taking a shaky breath in, and letting it out slowly. “Why is life about control? Why does everybody want to control everyone else?”
“I don’t know.”
She spoke fiercely. “Why do I feel like I have a permanent leash around my neck? I just want to be free. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have no responsibilities, no duties to fulfil.”
“It’s pretty good,” said Nate.
Her eyes met his, and she gave a brief, wry smile, but looked away again, shaking her head. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“I really do.” He didn’t elaborate, didn’t need to. He could see she understood, that she could read some of the past pain that still lingered in his eyes like smoke from a stamped-out campfire.
She looked away, her body tight, defensive. “I’m only twenty-five, and I’m tired of life. I don’t want to be, but I have absolutely no say in the matter, and it makes me mad. Everything’s always so fucking complicated.”
He felt for her so much it hurt. He knew exactly what she felt, how her throat would be tight with frustration, how her helplessness would be an oppressive weight on her chest. Just the memory of being so powerless made rage boil in his stomach. He hardly knew her, and yet he wanted to grab whatever it was that had hurt her and wring its neck until it lay gasping on the ground, then let her fly free like a bird. But there wasn’t anything he could do to help her.
Even as that thought entered his head, he remembered some of Ash’s first words to him, the day Ash had invited him backstage after the Auckland show. “Sharing a problem halves the burden,” he’d said, when Nate had sat silently, so weighed down with unhappiness he’d hardly been able to lift his head. “Knowing we’re not in it alone can be the first step toward healing.”
Nate still had a long way to go. But he recognised pain when he saw it, and in spite of everything that had happened to him, relieving others’ pain would always be important to him.
“Not everything has to be complicated.” He reached out to cup her cheek. His hand immediately grew warm, and he stroked her skin with his thumb.
She looked up at him, but she was too far gone, and a tear tipped over the edge of her lashes and spilled down her cheek.
It nearly broke his heart. “Oh, come here.”
He cupped her face with both hands, moved closer to her and kissed her.
Cherry, was his first thought as their lips touched and he tasted the lipbalm he’d seen her apply earlier. Concentrate, was his second, and for a moment he focussed on the heat in his palms, feeling her soak it up like a sponge.
He’d only meant to make it a quick kiss, a reason for him to touch her, a playful method of cheering her up when she was so obviously down. But she shivered and inhaled, her lips opening slightly beneath his, and all rational thoughts fled his mind as her body relaxed and melted against him, the tension flowing out of her.
He slid his hands into her hair, and it was as soft as he’d imagined, curling between his fingers like pale silk ribbons. It smelled of orange blossom, sweet and light, making him think of warm spring evenings in the sub-tropical Northland as a child, times when he was happy, before all the problems started.
Her lips were soft too, unbelievably so, parting automatically to receive his tongue as he brushed it into her mouth, wanting to savour her. She tasted of the sweet wine she’d been drinking, intoxicating and delicious, stirring his blood and making him deepen the kiss, even though a small part of his brain tried to remind him that this was only supposed to be a fleeting attempt at consolation. Shut up, he told himself. This was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time, and he was going to make the most of it while it lasted.
She stroked his tongue with her own, shy at first, growing bolder. When his teeth grazed her beautiful, plump bottom lip, she gave a little murmur of appreciation, low and sultry, erotic enough to flood him with heat.
He groaned, and in response she moved the hands she’d placed on his chest around his waist beneath the guitar hanging across his back, pulling him closer. He cupped her head with one hand, his fingers sliding into the cool hair at the nape of her neck, the other hand moving down between her shoulders to the small of her back.
Desire flowed through him, making him grow hard where he pressed himself against the flat of her stomach, and he wondered if she’d pull away, shocked. Instead, however, she reached up on tiptoe, moulding herself to him, making him sigh. She was soft against him, from her breasts pushing against his muscled chest to her butt yielding beneath the pressure of his fingertips as he slid his hand lower to hold it. She moved her hips slightly, rubbing against his erection, and an image jumped into his head of stripping off the thin cotton cut-offs, spreading her legs and sliding into her wet, swollen centre.
A white-hot heat kindled between them, perhaps born out of the sultry weather that made their skin damp with perspiration and the smell of roses rise from her to ensnare his senses. It made her rake her nails lightly down his back, and in response he plunged his tongue into her mouth, tightened his grip on her ass, and pushed her back against the wall. She met it with a bump sharp enough to make her gasp, jol
ting him to his senses.
He lifted his head, blinking. “Shit.” He took a step backward, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what made me do that. Sorry.”
Her pupils were so dilated her eyes looked an eclipsed sun, the unmatched irises showing as slender, shining coronas around the black centres. She pressed her lips together, tucking her hands underneath her butt against the wall. Looking up at him, her chest heaving, her lips curved. “Don’t apologise. Jeez. That’s the best kiss I’ve had in, like, ever.”
He met her gaze and started to smile. “Uncomplicated, though.”
“Oh God, yes, totally.” She raised an eyebrow at his jeans, eyes twinkling. “Didn’t affect either of us at all.”
He glanced at his obvious erection and tipped his head at her. “I said uncomplicated, not unaffected.”
She laughed then. He was pleased to see the starlight had reappeared in her eyes. “That cheered me up,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
She winked at him. “Now you can go back to the bar and make one of your fans a very happy lady indeed.”
“Yeah,” he said, although he wasn’t going to be interested in any other woman that evening. He wanted to retain the memory of Freya’s soft body pressed against his for a while longer and enjoy the taste of cherry and Sauvignon on his tongue.
She met his gaze and smiled. “Goodnight, Nate.”
“Night, Aroha.”
She laughed and ran up the steps, inserted her key in the lock and let herself in, disappearing into the dark house.
Nate started walking away and, grabbing the neck of the guitar, lifted it over his shoulder so he could hold it in front of him. He strummed as he walked, filling the warm evening with an old Elvis love song. He’d meant to cheer Freya up, to fill her with the energy of the stars, and it had worked. But she’d done a damn good job of lifting his spirits, too.
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