Title: Something Old
Series: Lone Star Match #1
Author: Megan Ryder
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 30, 2017
Three Bridesmaids. Three lost loves. One matchmaking bride. With just a week before the wedding, can a bride-to-be reunite her bridesmaids with the ones who got away?
Delaney Winters never expected to see Ethan VanOwen again. He was part of a life she had left far behind… But now, with her best friend’s wedding coming up, it seems like her past has caught up to her. Forced to spend time with her former flame, Delaney’s feelings for him resurface, rekindling the white-hot passion that had always drawn them together.
For five years, Ethan has wondered what went wrong with their relationship. After Delaney broke up with him, Ethan moved to Texas Wine Country to start a new life. But now, he is being pressured to take up the mantle of his family investment business and return to Houston to confront his past.
Can Delaney and Ethan bury their past to rekindle the love and passion they once shared?
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Tule Publishing: http://tulepublishing.com/books/something-old/
A spurt of attraction shot through him, or maybe lust. He'd been too long without a woman, stayed sequestered on the vineyard too long, so it was only natural. At least that was what he kept telling himself. What kind of masochist lusted after a woman who ripped out his heart and stomped all over it? He'd thought he'd been prepared to see Delaney but his body's reaction, the clenching deep inside and the shot of attraction was back as if the past five years had never happened. But it had and he could control his body.
"Delaney. Been a while."
His head whipped around to face her, jaw clenched. She itched to take off his sunglasses, to see his eyes, but she instinctively knew they'd blaze as hot as the sunlight they were flying into. She folded her hands in her lap and studied them, not looking up. His scent curled around her in the small cockpit, musk and sweat, a smell she never thought she'd experience again.
She had kept an old sweatshirt of his, one she'd packed after their last trip to the island and had forgotten to give to him. It hadn't been washed and his scent was all over the shirt. At night, when the battling over the media and her father’s court case had gotten too bad, the reality too much to bear, the pain of losing him like a knife in her heart, she had taken it out of her closet and curled up in her bed with it, wrapping it around her, imagining it was his arms that held her, not an inanimate shirt. She still had it, the scent long gone now. But it was still her comfort, a teddy bear she clung to like a toddler with a security blanket. It had been a rag back then, a comfy sweatshirt, but time had only made it more raggedy, more worn and frayed. It was her one last connection to her old life, her one anchor in her new reality.
Maybe someday she would be able to get rid of it. Not need the comfort it provided.
Ethan walked down the stairs, trying to adjust his shorts surreptitiously. Thank God he changed into cargo shorts and not jeans. That could have been very painful. Delaney's hips swayed gently in front of him as she walked down the hall and the stairs toward the faint voices in the distance.
What the fuck was he thinking, getting sucked back up in her mess? Was he so weak that his resolve could be tested and overcome so quickly that he almost kissed her? When she had barged out of her room and into him, he had to steady her. It was only gentlemanly. What followed was anything but considerate and good manners. He had practically kissed her, but then she had plastered herself against him, her soft curves fitting into his body as he remembered.
It felt good. Right.
"Running away again, Delaney? Isn't that what got you into trouble in the first place?"
Ethan's voice pulled her back to the moment, from her wishes and dreams of what could have been. She turned slowly. He stood a few yards away, hands buried in his cargo pants pockets, white shirt unbuttoned, hair ruffling in the sea breeze, a solemn look on his face.
"Not running away. Taking a break. There's a difference." She crossed her arms, hugging herself against the slight chill in the air.
He nodded slowly but didn't budge from his spot. "What are you thinking about?"
"You really want to know? Fine. No one wants me here, except maybe Caroline, and I'm sure she's regretting that now. I should have gone with my gut."
"And kept hiding?" His quiet voice was neutral, no inflection or judgment.
"It was safer," she admitted in a small voice.
"Maybe. But you've taken the first step. Takes a lot of courage."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were still pissed at me. Why are you being so nice?"
He grinned and walked toward the water. He bent down and picked up a rock, tossing it into the water. "I'm still pissed. But we have too much of a past for me to completely ignore you when you're in pain."
His words snapped her out of her funk, and she stared at his back for a long moment. Then she stepped up and looked out over the Gulf. She wanted to reach for his hand, reach for him, but fear and self-preservation overrode her desire. "Why did you follow me?"
"I'll always follow you." His words were solid and true, a statement of fact.
She was shaking her head before he even finished. "That's not wise, Ethan. We can't be anything more than what we are now."
"What are we now?" he asked, genuine puzzlement in his tone.
"I don't know." She looked down and dug her toes in the sand.
"Come back to the house, Delaney."
This time, she heeded his words and her heart. Maybe she had blown her chance with Ethan, when life and circumstances intervened. But she could have this one week, their lives isolated like this island, before reality invaded.
She took his hand then bent to pick up her sandals.
"Ready?" He cocked his eyebrow at her.
She nodded. He tucked her hand against his chest, and they walked back to the house.
She raised up on tiptoes, lips inches from his. "I can't wait any longer. I want my prize."
He groaned and wrapped a hand around her waist, hauling her up against him. She pressed her lips against his, and she ran her tongue along the seam of his until he opened and let her inside. Drugged with power, feeling more in control than ever before, she pressed her advantage, plastering herself against his long frame, feeling the evidence of his arousal against her throbbing core. Her panties dampened and she moaned against his mouth, her control slipping away rapidly, along with all her inhibitions and reservations about the evening, Ethan, and herself.
He slid his hands down to lightly skim her ass then cup both globes and pull her closer. In a sudden move, he shifted positions, never breaking their lips, and pinned her against the wall. She gasped and broke the kiss, the world tilting dangerously around her. She rested her head against the cool brick, and he trailed kisses down her exposed throat. He pushed aside the shoulder of the tank top and placed a kiss at the top of her shoulder. His hand stroked down her arm and under her shirt to tease her breasts through the lace of her bra.
She moaned at the sensations coursing through her, burning up from the inside, feelings and emotions buffeting her from all angles, like the waves in the ocean. She throbbed deep inside and she pressed her legs together to find some relief. He chuckled against her shoulder and wedged a thigh between hers, forcing them apart. She wrapped her leg around his, hiking it as high as she could. He dropped a hand to her thigh and pulled her up and closer to him, until only a few layers of fabric were between his cock and her slit, begging for him. She arched closer to him, pleading for his touch, for relief, for anything. His hand slipped under her thigh and higher, close to her aching core. His other hand kneaded her breast, his thumb rubbing against her nipple through the lace, the rough lace creating deeper friction and heat than she had ever expected. It was all she could to hold on. He was her anchor in a roiling sea of emotions and she needed relief.
He pressed against her, his cock rubbing her through the lightweight material of their shorts. Then he hit a spot and she exploded with a soft cry.
Ever since Megan Ryder discovered Jude Deveraux and Judith McNaught while sneaking around the “forbidden” romance section of the library one day after school, she has been voraciously devouring romance novels of all types. Now a romance author in her own right, Megan pens sexy contemporary novels all about family and hot lovin’ with the boy next door.
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