Only one more day until Willow hits the cyber shelves! Although this is the ninth novella in the continuity, it can be read alone :-)
Meet the Housewives of Sydney. They are wealthy, elegant, poised, and constantly in the public eye. But what goes on behind closed doors, in the private homes and parties where the cameras and paparazzi aren’t welcome? Delve into the most personal details of their relationships, their friendships and their lives. The only question is: can you handle the heat?
Willow has loved Seb for as long as she can remember, but he has a past that she can’t handle, so she’s never done anything about it. But to not have him in her life is unthinkable, so she holds on to him the only way she can – through friendship. Now his writing career is taking off, and Willow finds herself increasingly jealous of his groupies and increasingly unable to keep her feelings to herself.
An unexpected visit leads to an unanticipated kiss – and Seb and Willow end up in her bed. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Willow, but can she trust that Seb wants more than a bit of afternoon delight – and can she trust herself to let go of the past in order to gain a future?
“… although Willow is just as hot, as the story between Seb and Willow unfolded, I also found their romance to be incredibly poignant, sweet and at times humorous.” 5 Stars, A Reader’s Review
She wriggled back into the plump cushions and crossed her ankles. The brandy caused a warm glow to slide through her blood and pool between her thighs. She sighed and shifted, but if anything that just made things worse.
She stretched her arms over her head and linked her fingers together before she was tempted to do anything else with them. She’d save that for later, when she was alone in her own bed and she could fantasise about Seb without fear of him catching her.
The hum of cicadas drifted on the warm breeze and Willow closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of lemon from the nearby eucalypts. She didn’t know how long she lay there before a warning prickle of awareness skated over her bare arms. She looked up and Seb stood at the foot of the daybed, watching her.
Her fingers froze in the process of stroking her erect nipple through her dress. How long had he been watching her? When had her hands moved? How long had she been playing with herself? She waited for a wave of mortification to crash through her, but instead scorching lust quivered through her wet pussy.
Shit. She was in trouble. “You perv,” she accused but her voice sounded smoky, as though she was inviting him to join in. Double shit. Brandy had never affected her good sense like this before.
He crawled onto the daybed, his thighs cradling her hips, and planted his fists either side of her shoulders. He was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her. Her lips parted and breath stalled. It was a bad idea, the worst in the world, but she didn’t care.
His dark eyes hypnotised her. His subtle cologne intoxicated her. Her tummy fluttered and nipples ached and then he spoke.
“I need you upstairs.”
They didn’t need to go upstairs. No one would see them out here in the dark. And then she remembered. He wanted her help with something.
“Sure.” She shoved at his shoulder before he could guess how tempted she was to spear her fingers through his hair and wrap her legs around his waist. What the hell was the matter with her tonight? She had to pull herself together before they went inside. Otherwise Seb would have to be dead not to notice how horribly turned on she was.
She smothered a groan and then gasped as Seb gripped her hand and pulled her off the daybed and onto the lawn. And into his arms. But before she could enjoy the illicit encounter he stepped back, still holding her hand, and she caught the wicked grin he aimed her way.
She ignored it. “What do you need help with tonight?” She sauntered up to the house, Seb by her side, so he couldn’t guess the dirty thoughts currently inhabiting her sexually deprived mind. She was throwing out that cognac first thing in the morning. And maybe she’d invest in a vibrator. According to Sienna, although they were nothing like the real thing, they were definitely better than no orgasm at all.
“Getting in the zone.”
She waited for a few moments, but after he locked up behind them and appeared no closer to elaborating, she prodded his chest. “What zone?”
He tugged her towards the stairs and then followed her, his hands on her shoulders. It was a light touch and completely non-sexual. Except the warmth from his palms branded her flesh and caused myriad whirlpools between her thighs. First thing in the morning she was calling Sienna for a shopping trip.
“For my book launch.”
She tripped on a step and his hands instantly tightened around her. His book launch? What did he want to do, read passages to her?
Then she remembered some of the chapter headings when she’d flicked through his book earlier that day. It looked like half of them were dedicated to embracing Tantra and the connection and intimacy of tantric sex.
Tantra she could deal with. Tantric sex, on the other hand, was something she’d never quite got around to with any of the guys she’d dated.
Seb was a different matter. She wasn’t dating Seb. Her hormones didn’t care. It had been a bad move to let him stay the night. And she had another two nights after this one. She wasn’t sure her self-control was up for the task.
“What do you want to do, act out some of the scenes?” She tossed him what she hoped was a mocking smile and he didn’t answer until they were outside his bedroom door.
“Not exactly,” he said, and before she could respond to that he pushed the door open.
The room was illuminated by dozens of candles. Rose petals were scattered across the carpet and an elusive scent of jasmine perfumed the air. Willow stared, seeing but not quite believing. Seb’s room looked like a decadent den of seduction.
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