The weather’s hot, the sex even hotter. But when it’s time for Merle to go home, they both realize they’re in deeper than they thought. And there’s no solution that won’t break someone’s heart.
Warning: Please do not read if you are allergic to any of the following: love at first sight, one-night stands in a one-man tent, rugby hakas, firemen rescuing children, and rough caveman sex guaranteed to put hairs on your chest. May contain nuts.
Enjoy the following excerpt for White-Hot Christmas:
Neon lay on top of his sleeping bag, staring up at the roof of his tent, just a couple of feet above his nose. It had been about half an hour since he’d left the house, and Merle hadn’t appeared. He’d tried to read for a while but couldn’t concentrate, every little sound making him tense. She wasn’t going to come. Disappointment filtered through him. He’d really thought she wanted to. Clearly her nerves had won out. What a shame. He shifted irritably as a stone dug into his back. It was humid and stuffy in the tent, and he was so keyed up now, he’d have trouble getting to sleep. He wore only a T-shirt and boxers, but it was a warm night and he debated whether to take them both off.
Then, however, the tent rustled and he heard a zip opening. He pushed himself onto an elbow, looking at the entrance, and flicked on the small lamp by his sleeping bag, filling the tent with a warm glow. Her head appeared, her eyes wide in the semidarkness. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered. “Jake kept coming out for stuff.” She got her shoulders in then stopped and looked around. “Christ, this is minute! Are you sure we’ll both fit?”
“We’ll have to squeeze up.” He grinned, pleasure sweeping through him. He stifled a laugh at what she was wearing—if he’d needed any further confirmation that she didn’t usually do this sort of thing, her pyjamas were enough to convince him. They were cotton and covered in pink bunnies.
She’d got stuck in the doorway, so he leaned forward and lifted her in, and she gave a small squeal, laughing as he zipped up the tent. He lay back, bringing her with him. She was right—it was incredibly small inside, but then it was supposed to be a one-man tent. Not a one-man, one-woman.
He turned on his side, propping his head with a hand. She did the same, facing him, just a few inches away. Her cheeks were flushed and she’d brushed her hair, and from the mintiness of her breath, her teeth as well. He felt a surprising surge of affection for her, though he hardly knew her at all. “I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“Well, I haven’t yet.” She rolled her eyes, then giggled.
He chuckled, reaching out to run a finger down her pink rabbit top. “Sexy.” The smile broke out in spite of his attempts to hide it.
She looked at the pyjamas and back at him sheepishly. “I only brought two pairs with me and the other one is even worse. Neon—I didn’t come to New Zealand planning this. I don’t usually… I mean…”
“Hey.” He frowned. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me. You’re over eighteen, right?”
She stared at him blankly.
“Merle, please tell me you’re over eighteen.”
She laughed. “I’m twenty-five, but thank you for the compliment.”
“And you’re single?”
“Yes.”
“So am I—so we don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone. What two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own…tent is nobody else’s business.”
She smiled. “You have a great attitude to life.”
“It’s got me into trouble a few times.”
“I can imagine.” She looked at her hands. “It’s just…I don’t want you to think I do this all the time. I’m not a hussy.”
He grinned. “You think I’m insulted at your forwardness? Merle, you’re young, you’re beautiful, you’re feeling horny and you chose me to help you out? Hey, I’m stoked!”
Merle couldn’t help but laugh. Bree had been right—he was nice as well as hot.
She met his warm gaze and her heart thudded. What should she do now? Did he want her to take her clothes off? She was too nervous, plus she wasn’t sure she had enough room to remove them.
He reached up and leaned over her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. But he rummaged around in a bag at the end of the tent, and when she looked, she realised it was a small cooler. He extracted two plastic cups and a bottle of wine and held them up, raising his eyebrows. “Fancy a glass?”
She grinned. “I thought you were on duty tomorrow.”
“Oh, I’ll only have a splash. It’s more to set the mood than anything.”
He wanted to set the mood? She felt strangely touched. He wasn’t just going to jump on her then. She took the cup he offered and held it up as he opened the bottle. There was so little room they had to manoeuvre around each other, making them both laugh.
“Cheers,” he said once they’d tipped an inch into the two cups.
“Skål! That’s Swedish.”
“Skål!” They clunked cups and drank.
He looked at her, smiling. Her heart—which had been beating pretty rapidly all evening, increased in pace. His hair was ruffled and he had a scattering of sand on his arms. He was gorgeous. And he was looking at her as if she were covered in maple syrup and he wanted to lick it off. She couldn’t believe her luck.
“Are we really going to have sex?” she said before she could stop herself.
He laughed and fixed her with a hot gaze. “Absolutely.” He pointed to the tent zip. “I’m not letting you out of there until I’ve seen you naked.” His eyes twinkled. “As endearing as those pyjamas are.”
She poked her tongue out at him. “I may have to leave them on, anyway. I have no idea how I can possibly get undressed in here.”
“I’m getting you out of those if I have to cut them off.” He finished his wine and threw the cup in the cooler. “Okay that’s it, I’m getting too hot.” He grasped the back of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. With no room to move his arms, however, he got stuck halfway and she had to help him out with the final pull.
Laughing, he ran a hand through his hair and then pulled her tight against him. He lowered his lips to hers, and electricity zapped through her from the base of her spine to the top of her head as she inhaled. It was nothing like the kiss on the beach. That had been slow, tentative and exploratory. Now she felt the full heat of his passion, the kiss searing her lips, his tongue hot and insistent, sweeping hers firmly. Exhale, exhale, you can’t breathe in continually or you’ll hyperventilate. But it was hard to catch her breath. She’d never been kissed like this in her life. How could she compare this to the fumbling advances of Simon, or the wet, selfish kisses of Phil? That would be like trying to compare a four-course gourmet meal with school dinners.
Remembering something, she pulled back, placing a hand on his chest. “I forgot.” She slipped her fingers in the pyjama pocket on her breast and pulled out a condom. “I thought we might need this. I stole it from Bree’s purse.”
He stuck his hand in his shorts pocket and pulled out another. “Hey, snap! I stole this from Jake.” He winked at her. “Now we can do it twice!”
An Uncommon Sense
Serenity Woods
All six senses tell him she’s the one.
Sensual Healing, Book 1
High school science teacher Grace Fox doesn’t believe in any of that woo-woo stuff. So it’s easy to laugh off her friend’s prediction that she’ll have swear-out-loud sex with the next man who walks through her classroom door.
Who knew that local celebrity Ash Rutherford would have the time to attend his daughter’s parents’ night? Or that the Viking lookalike would trigger an attack of klutziness? He may or may not see dead people, but he certainly got a good look up her skirt.
A doctor turned medium, Ash spends his days communicating with unseen spirits. When it comes to his moody daughter, though, he hopes down-to-earth Grace will give him some insight. The racy lingerie she hides beneath her prim and proper clothing is an added bonus he
didn’t expect.
Their attraction is instant and blazing hot, but Ash has been burned before. His ex-wife didn’t believe in his abilities, and no way is he going down that road again. At least not until Grace accepts the possibility there might be life after death. And the ghosts of his past are laid to rest.
Warning: Contains a real live Viking, proof of life after death and sex on a 1970s sheepskin rug, but absolutely no Barry White.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
An Uncommon Sense
Copyright © 2012 by Serenity Woods
ISBN: 978-1-60928-862-4
Edited by Imogen Howson
Cover by Lyn Taylor
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
An Uncommon Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 1 Page 21