Beautiful Scars Part 23

"Don't I?" He reached out and tucked her hair behind one ear. "When was the last time you watched Old Yeller?"

She scowled at him.

"Still reading the Valdemar books? How many copies you gone through now?"

She tucked her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. "Things like that aren't exactly knowing me."

"Hmm. How about this? You're p.i.s.sed off. You've been riding on nerves and caffeine for a while, but today, you're p.i.s.sed off and you just want to hit something."

Something flashed in her eyes, but she remained silent.

"What set you off?"

"Nothing." Her voice was low and flat.

"Nothing? You sure about that, princess?"

There it was again...a flash of fire, hot and angry.

"Come on, surely there's something. Your panties are in a twist over something." He slanted a look toward the bedroom she shared with Roger. Jealousy twisted his gut, but he kept his voice easy and light as he said, "It's got to be rough, where you're at right now. No way to burn off that anger, that stress, that..."

He saw it coming, but he didn't bother to move.

His head snapped back from the force of her blow and even as the pain bloomed, he grinned at her. She stared at him, shock written all over her face. "Feel better?"

Zoe gaped at him. "You...what..."

Edging past her, he went to the mirror and peered at his mouth. He tasted blood. "d.a.m.n, you've got a good right hook there, Zoe."

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, pa.s.sionate s.e.x.

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 pa.s.sion and the pain and fear a.s.sociated with cancer. Keep a box of tissues next to your gla.s.s 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. Pinp.r.i.c.ks 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 a.s.s, 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 h.e.l.l did he need that s.h.i.t?

He'd always taken it for granted that Zoey would be here for him. How the f.u.c.k 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-h.e.l.l, 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 h.e.l.l 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 c.o.c.k 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. h.e.l.l, 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.

They've got the s.e.x factor in spades. But can love survive the "ex" factor?.

Knowing the Ropes.

2013 Teresa Noelle Roberts.

Selene has harbored kinky, submissive fantasies most of her life, but her experience as a domestic abuse counselor leaves her leery of giving up that much control. Case in point: the ex-fiance she didn't love quite enough to test the limits of trust.

At a BDSM meet-and-greet, she sets out to learn how far is too far. Nick seems like the ideal dom to show her the ins and outs of ropes, floggers, and paddles-with no commitment clause.

After losing a sub he loved too much, Selene's country girl common sense and smoking sensuality is like a dream that Nick never dared to have-a perfect blend of kink and long-term domestic bliss.

Yet it's tough to figure out just how far they can push their limits when they've both agreed to a no-strings affair. Especially when an ex needs Nick's muscle and Selene's counseling skills to get out of a dangerous situation. By then it may be too late for love to survive all the things they're afraid to say.

Warning: s.e.xy, kinky, geeky dominant guy. Smart submissive woman. Crazy ex. A little experimentation between girlfriends. And lots and lots of kinky s.e.x.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Knowing the Ropes: Selene found herself with Nick, drifting toward an early dinner somewhere. He had a place in mind but hadn't actually told her where, and she found she liked the feeling that she'd put herself into his hands in this small way.

The more she talked with Nick, the more his cool blue gaze and warm smile distracted her, and the more she felt his body language sync up with hers. No, not exactly in sync but one step ahead, antic.i.p.ating her next movement and influencing it, as if starting to mold her already. She watched his big hands, imagining them alternately caressing and slapping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her thighs, her a.s.s.

She looked down at his feet when she imagined her fevered thoughts were too obvious in her eyes, then imagined herself kneeling there, naked, trembling, wet.

Actually, she didn't need to imagine the wet and trembling part. Her panties already felt suspiciously damp and her knees were shaky.

They walked more or less in silence. Between traffic noise, noise from the perennial construction along Atlantic Avenue and the melting heat, talking seemed far too much like work. Even the breeze off Boston Harbor was sticky.

By the time they crossed a bridge over Fort Point Channel, she was wishing she'd worn flats, even if they wouldn't have looked right with the outfit. She prayed that the restaurant would be an informal place where she could slip her shoes off under the table.

Once she saw the restaurant, her feet breathed a sigh of relief.

The Barking Crab was a tribute to the beachside clam shack. Rough picnic tables covered with butcher paper-they even provided crayons for doodling. A mix of fried and steamed seafood, with a few more sophisticated but still basic selections. And outdoor seating on the harbor, so she could kick off the d.a.m.n heels and relax. "It's a tourist trap," Nick said, "but it's fun."

Soon they were drinking cold beers-he'd recommended the fascinatingly named s.m.u.ttynose, from a brewery in New Hampshire-and awaiting plates of fried scallops, fried calamari and steamed mussels. Selene hadn't eaten a great deal that day and the frosty, hoppy beer was making her feel pleasantly euphoric.

Or maybe that was Nick.

She stretched out her bare foot, brushed it against his calf. Hard muscle under soft denim. Nice.

Yeah, Nick might just have something to do with the euphoria.

He took the hand that wasn't holding her beer.

No, he didn't exactly take her hand. He covered her hand with his and closed his fingers around her wrist. Then he looked into her eyes.

A slow, sensual smile opened on his face as he said, "That's better. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, but he was giving her an out if she wanted it.

She didn't. That firm grip on her wrist hinted at so many things she'd dreamed of. "Oh yes," she breathed. "Better." She dropped her voice a notch. "And wetter."

It may have been purely coincidence that the woman sitting behind her giggled at that second, but Selene was sure she'd overhead.

Heat flared in Selene's cheeks and, to her surprise, between her legs. She squirmed in her seat, less from actual embarra.s.sment than to enjoy the pressure the movement put on her swollen lips.

Under the cover of the first round of food arriving, Nick leaned forward. "So, you enjoy a little bit of public embarra.s.sment? I'll file that away for later."

"You're so confident that there'll be a later?"

"What do you think?" He ran one fingernail down the tender inside of her forearm.

His nails weren't sharp, but she still shivered.

"What about the common-sense test?" she asked. Her voice sounded a little desperate to her own ears, grasping at verbal straws. "Don't I fail it retroactively if I go home with you tonight?"

"If you come home with me and let me lock you in a cage, then yes. But to do that, I'd need a cage, and where will I find one in downtown Boston on a Sat.u.r.day night?" He laughed. "I'm regretting that test. It's making us both think we have to be sensible, and right now I'd rather be impulsive."

"Would it help if I said I wasn't thinking of much of anything except you?" Had that really come out of her mouth? "Okay, you and food. I'm starving." She grabbed a ring of fried calamari and popped it into her mouth, hoping the squid would keep her from saying anything too stupid. Calamari had the texture of bubble gum, in her experience, and it was rude to talk with your mouth full.

d.a.m.n it if this place didn't manage to make calamari tender. Delicious too, with a nice, crunchy coating and a bit of spice.

Much tastier than what she'd been expecting but not nearly as effective for keeping her safely quiet.

"Try it with a bit of the banana pepper," Nick suggested, picking up a calamari ring and a piece of yellow-green pepper. She thought for a second he was demonstrating the proper technique.

He wasn't.

He reached across the table and held the food before her lips. "Try it," he urged.

Her mouth opened of its own accord.

He brushed his finger across the pout of her lower lip, making her shiver.

She opened her mouth slowly, took a tentative nibble to test the pepper's heat, then parted her lips wider and engulfed the food and Nick's fingers.