Read Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 Online
Authors: Serenity Woods
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 wasn’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.