A thump on the bedroom door made them both whirl about to stare. He flicked off the water.
“Matt, are you in there?”
“It’s Mum,” Zoe muttered in an appalled tone. “Did you know she was coming over? Oh, boy. I can hear her panicked shrieks of horror now.”
“No.” He stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist. “I didn’t know she was coming. But she’ll just have to get used to us being together. I don’t intend to change my mind.”
“Me neither.” She slapped to her hand to her mouth in consternation. “My clothes are in the bedroom. I’d prefer to break this gently. I don’t want to shock her.”
“I doubt it will make much difference how we tell her.” He shrugged and headed for the door, ignoring the water dripping from his body. He opened it and stepped through before closing it again. “Mum. John. You should have called.”
“Sorry, Matt. We used our key. Do you have someone in there?” his mother asked, a tinge of pink highlighting her cheeks.
“The woman I’m going to marry,” he said.
“Oh, Matt!” His mother beamed. “John, did you hear that? Our son is finally getting married. We’ll have grandchildren.”
Matt glanced at Zoe’s father, his stepfather. He wondered if the small grin would disappear when he realized it was his daughter. The hard lump of apprehension in his belly dissolved as suddenly as it had appeared. The answer was so simple. He loved Zoe. He’d been running for a while, but no longer. Marriage would slow the gossip, and eventually everyone would find someone else to discuss. They had each other. What more did they need?
“Do we know her?” his mother asked.
The bathroom door opened, and Zoe came out dressed in his robe. Her light brown hair lay in damp curls around her face. Her cheeks were pale, but her firm chin indicated determination. “It’s me. Matt is going to marry me.”
“John?” Matt’s mother sounded faint.
Zoe stared at Matt. He crossed the room to stand at her side, smiling in a reassuring manner. His arm slipped around her waist. She swallowed and leaned against him. He hadn’t walked away. He’d said he loved her and more importantly, he cherished her enough to ask her to marry him.
“Hi, Mum. Dad.” Zoe tried to read them. Matt’s mother was easy. Her hands trembled and her face was pale. Shocked, because a relationship between them wasn’t what she’d expected. Her father remained impassive, but he wasn’t shouting. That had to be a good sign.
“But you’re brother and sister. You can’t get married,” their mother said.
“No, that’s not true. We’re not related. There’s no impediment to a marriage between the two of us,” Zoe said, concentrating entirely on Matt.
“That’s right.” Matt smiled, his blue eyes blazing with encouragement and a hundred other emotions. “Zoe has already said yes.”
Zoe swallowed again to disperse the knot in her throat. The need for verbal reassurance shimmered through her. “You really love me?”
“I’ve always loved you, wild child, and this time I’m done running. You’re right. We’re meant to be together.”
“John, do something,” Matt’s mother said, in clear panic. “They can’t get married.”
“They’re not related,” Zoe’s father said. “They’re quite right about that.”
“But…but…I suppose you’re right,” their mother said grudgingly, but it was clear she needed more time to become used to the idea. “I guess as long as you’re not rushing into things.”
“We’re sure. We don’t need to wait,” Matt said, glancing at Zoe with love in his eyes. “We intend to marry very soon. We don’t want a long engagement.”
“That’s right.” Relief soared through Zoe. Everything was going to be okay. Matt loved her and intended to let everyone know. “I love you so much!” And she jumped at him, trusting Matt to catch and keep her safe. Part of her heard her father reassuring Matt’s mother and telling her he’d suspected all along. Matt and Zoe would be fine. They knew what they were doing. Although their mother didn’t seem totally convinced, Zoe suspected it wouldn’t be long until she was muttering about grandchildren again.
Zoe looped her arms around Matt’s neck and rubbed their noses together. Then their lips met, and wild child Zoe Underwood claimed her man in no uncertain terms. They were going to have some wonderful adventures together.
Thank you for reading Wild Child. If you have time, I’d appreciate you writing a review—either good or bad—about your reading experience. Thanks!
About the Author
Shelley Munro is tall and curvaceous with blue eyes and a smile that turns masculine heads everywhere she goes. She's a university tutor and an explorer/treasure hunter during her vacations. Skilled with weapons and combat, she is currently in talks with a producer about a television series based on her world adventures.
Shelley is also a writer blessed with a VERY vivid imagination who lives in New Zealand with her husband and a rambunctious puppy. When Shelley's not writing, she loves to travel and frequently drags her husband off to far-flung parts of the world—not that he puts up much of an argument. Enduring memories include being almost sat on by a mountain gorilla in Rwanda, lazing on white, sandy beaches in India, whale watching in Alaska, helmet diving in Bora Bora and camel riding in Egypt.
Cooking is fun (since she enjoys eating), and she likes to take photographs of everyone and everything. No one is safe from her camera lens. To learn more about Shelley and her books visit her website at www.shelleymunro.com.
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Other Titles
Now Available:
Tea For Two
Playing to Win
Issy’s Infatuation
Fringe Benefits
Summer in the City of Sails
Soldier of Fortune
The Bottom Line
Fancy Free
Christmas is Coming
Feeling the Buzz
Wanderlust
Cat Burglar in Training
Lovers at Last
Sex, Spies & Sapphires
Coming Soon
One Night of Misbehavior
Past Regrets
Issy Deans has a secret—she’s always lusted after Tyler Jameson. Call it an unfortunate infatuation with her brothers’ best friend.
Issy’s Infatuation
Copyright 2007 Shelley Munro
“Oh man, have you seen the replacement coach?” Angela, the Jets’ star winger, bounded into the changing rooms, dressed in sweats with her rugby boots dangling over her shoulder by their laces. She shook her umbrella, scattering raindrops over everyone in the vicinity, and kissed her fingertips with loud moans of sexual appreciation. “An ass to die for and the rest of the package isn’t too shabby.”
The players who had already arrived for training started firing questions. Who was he? Was he single? Did he have a girlfriend?
Isabel “Issy” Deans grinned and moved her gear farther down the drafty changing room, out of range of the wet umbrellas and equally wet teammates arriving for training. Rain rattled the tin roof, drowning out anything but a shout while the winter wind whistled through the open door. She shivered, whipped her good work jumper over her head and traded it for a faded training jersey.
“His name is Tyler Jameson and he’s coaching us until the end of the season since Allen is sick. He’s just returned from playing rugby in Japan because he wants to coach now that his contract with the Japanese club has expired, he’s single and you’re right. The man’s a babe.” Patricia Coates, another new arrival, winked. “With a mighty fine ass.”
Everyone shrieked with laughter apart from Issy. She froze in the middle of peeling panty hose down her legs. Tyler Jameson. Why of all the coaches in the world did it have to be her neighbor and teenage crush Tyler Jameson? She hadn’t even known he’d returned home, but then maybe he wasn’t staying with his parents. Issy inhaled, a
ttempting to breathe through the herd of nerves that were galloping through her stomach. She’d thought the crush she’d had on Tyler had faded. After all, she hadn’t thought about him for months. Heck, she’d even dated a few times this year. She hadn’t thought about him during her engagement. Well, not much, she amended with a sliver of guilt. Her heart thudded erratically and she had to wipe her suddenly moist palms on her jersey. A simple fact. Tyler Jameson made her nervous. Clumsy. Her fingers turned to thumbs and her feet inexplicably grew when she was around him. She groaned silently while she wriggled out of her tight black skirt and exchanged it for black leggings. She had one goal this year—to make the Black Ferns, New Zealand’s female representative rugby team. If Tyler Jameson had his normal effect on her, she might as well kiss her chances of making the Ferns goodbye.
A sharp knock sounded on the changing room door. “Ladies, you decent in there? Can I come in?”
Yep, it was Tyler Jameson all right. She’d recognize that gravelly voice anywhere. Issy swallowed. Her hands trembled when she attempted to lace up her rugby boots. She stopped, clenched her fingers to a fist and straightened them before trying to lace her boots again.
“Just a sec, coach,” Patricia shouted. Although fully dressed and ready for training, she whipped her jersey over her head to display bountiful breasts. “All decent,” she called.
Issy rolled her eyes, not at Patricia’s shenanigans but at the spike of jealousy that struck her hard. This was worse than she’d thought. She was feeling possessive about Tyler. Coupled with nerves, this was a disaster waiting to happen.
Tyler Jameson waited for the all clear before entering the changing shed. “Everyone ready for training?” His gaze scanned over the women in the changing room. Hell. There was always one. He ignored the blatant show of curved assets and counted the number of women present. Great. Everyone was here.
“Warm up first. Stretches then two laps of the field.” The collective groan made him grin. But despite the rain, which had eased slightly, and the brisk wind outside, the women filed outside, eager to start training. Allen, his mentor, had said they were keen and he’d boasted that several of his players were good prospects for the Black Ferns. Tyler was looking forward to coaching them. He scanned the faces of the remaining team members and did a double take.
“Issy? Is that you?” Issy Deans halted in front of him, a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression on her face. His friend’s sister wasn’t all skin and bones with gangly legs anymore. He grabbed her in a quick hug, hormones zapping to stunned life and heading south. Well, hell, she didn’t feel gangly either. “Great to see you. Allen told me you’re one of his stars.”
“Tha-thanks,” she muttered.
Tyler hid a grin at the cute stutter. She’d always stuttered a little. “Better get out there before the rest of the team think I’m playing favorites.”
Issy cast him an uncertain look before inching past. Did she think he was going to bite? Once clear of the changing rooms, she broke into a trot, the smooth motion beautiful to watch and the flex of her ass a wonderful thing. The woman had grown into her gangly legs. He grinned openly. Hell yeeeah. He’d like a bite of that. Maybe he’d ask her out. There was only a month left of the season. Under normal circumstances, he’d keep well away from romantic entanglements, keep things professional, but since the season was almost done and he was moving on to take the Auckland assistant coach position, he thought he could justify personal involvement. As long as her brothers didn’t appear home on leave from the army to act the heavy chaperones. Damn, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Flatmates. Best friends. Casual lovers.
Fringe Benefits
Copyright 2008 Shelley Munro
Heat shimmered in the air, making patterns swirl above the sealed driveway. A New Zealand summer at full blast—hot, humid and sweltering with dazzling blue skies and a capricious breeze. Marie Wright stretched out on a towel under the shade of an old oak tree, droplets of water glistening on her partially naked body. The house she shared with Kelvin Green and Shane Coulter lay on the outskirts of small-town Tuakau. They had no close neighbors, a fact she appreciated on this sticky January day since there was no one to witness her swimming topless in the river.
A sigh escaped as she thought of her two flatmates. Falling for both men at the same time was a disaster waiting to happen. Plain weird and kinky even, but oh, she wished she were brave enough to act on the desire. Two men and one woman. No matter how hard she tried, the thought refused to go away. It was making her crazy, but she didn’t want to lose their friendship or upset her current housing situation so she remained silent.
“Hey, Marie. You gonna turn over and let me see those luscious breasts of yours?”
Marie let out a shriek and bolted upright, grasping her orange beach towel to her breasts and knocking her sunglasses askew. She only relaxed when she saw it was Kelvin and that he was alone. Her breath eased out but her heart continued to race. “Don’t frighten me like that.” She rearranged her towel and tried to relax again, or as much as she could in her semi-naked state. “Where’s Saffron?”
Kelvin dropped a towel beside her and stripped off his faded T-shirt and black shorts. “We broke up.”
His flat tone told Marie he didn’t want to discuss it. She watched him stride to the riverbank naked, his lean and athletic form tanned to golden brown from their frequent swimming during the past month. Her mouth dried as she sneaked a look at his butt, her eyes screened by the sunglasses. Beautiful. Muscles flexed with natural grace, reminding her of the statue David come to life. A jolt of desire shot straight to her pussy. Although she hadn’t liked Saffron, she didn’t like to see Kelvin hurting. But this did mean he was back on the market and until he found someone else to date, potential friends-with-benefits material again. Sexual hunger rolled through her like a rogue wave and her breathing hitched. Although she wanted both men at the same time, one would work. Of course, he probably wouldn’t be interested in some lazy afternoon loving…
Marie considered the thought and slowly turned over onto her back, baring her breasts. She’d shared a house with Kelvin and Shane for two years, and for the first time in her life felt happy and secure. When it was just the three of them, it was better. Common interests in rugby and cooking had cemented their friendship. Time and close proximity turned them in to best friends.
She closed her eyes, wincing at the rapid tattoo of her heart. Kelvin splashed in the river and a thrush perched in the oak tree sang its little heart out. In a nearby paddock, a sheep let out a plaintive baa that sounded faintly complaining. Marie couldn’t blame the creature. This heat wave was making everyone moody and miserable.
A whisper of sensation across one breast stirred her. Suspecting a fly, she swished a lazy hand. Then warm, wet suction closed around her nipple and her eyes flew open.
Kelvin pulled away to smile at her. “I couldn’t resist.” His dark brown eyes challenged her, dared her to tell him to stop.
As if. Marie wanted to grab him by the ears and direct his mouth back to her breast. She wanted to bossily order him to suck her nipple hard in easy, rhythmic pulls that would echo in her pussy and start the journey to pleasure. Instead, she cleared her throat. “You okay?”
A shadow crossed his face. “It’s Friday and a long weekend. Why shouldn’t I be okay?”
Neat avoidance of her question. If he didn’t want to talk about Saffron, fine. “Have you seen my bikini top? I couldn’t find it.”
“I like you better without.” Mischief lit his eyes as his fingers drifted across the lower curve of her breast. A prickle of heat shot from the spot he touched to settle in an ache between her legs. As they watched, her nipple pulled to a crest. “Much better,” he murmured with masculine appreciation.
Heat collected in her cheeks but she couldn’t look away from his fingers and the mesmerizing stroke of them across her breast, the contrast in color between her creamy skin and his tanned fingers. A sigh escaped a
s yearning and desire blossomed. She’d missed the closeness with Kelvin. Too much, if she was honest. The thought made her bite her lip in consternation. Friends with benefits was just that—sex with friends—but it meant no jealousy, no strings. No unruly emotions. It meant sticking to the rules they’d discussed before they’d decided on this course. No sex if they were in relationships with other people, no discussing the relationship with outsiders and most of all, respect.
A problem these days.
Warning: Condoms were tested and a few harmed during the writing of this story.
Fancy Free
Copyright 2008 Shelley Munro
They were in the wrong place.
Alice Beasley stared around the crowded town hall feeling a little like her namesake Alice in Wonderland—lost and confused in a strange, foreign world. This bedlam reminded her of a storybook rabbit hole, not a small New Zealand country town called Sloan. She gaped at a woman dressed in a bright orange turban and a long, voluminous, hunter green gown. Another woman in a smart black suit teetered her way to the front of the hall, a small grubby boy in tow. His red, tear-stained face confirmed coercion and he looked just as uncomfortable as Alice felt. The fish-out-of-water sensation persisted while she perused the many colorful characters assembled in the town hall. Oh no! This certainly couldn’t be the reading of her godmother Alicia’s will.
Alice leaned over to rifle through the black leather handbag at her feet and pulled out the sheet of paper on which she’d written the date, time and address the lawyer had rattled off at the termination of a hurried phone call the previous evening. She scanned the details. Frowning, she stuffed the paper back inside her bag and straightened, her hands tucked demurely in her lap.
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