Love and Relativity

 Love and Relativity

 Rachael Wade      

Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance

  

Book Description:

Love, life, and happily ever after? It’s all relative.

Marine biology student Emma Pierce lives in paradise—geographically speaking, anyway. Stranded on Sanibel Island, Florida, she works at a nursing home by day and spends her nights dodging the island's infamous bad boy, Jackson Taylor, at her favorite karaoke bar. Trying to heal from the loss of her sister and a failed relationship she rerouted her life for, she's ready to graduate and finally leave Florida behind.

When a run-in with Jackson and his rowdy crew goes sour at the bar one night, sparks fly and irreversible damage is done. It’s no secret that Jackson loves to get underneath her skin, but this time he's gone too far. Now all he wants is to earn her forgiveness before she's gone for good, but their ideas of closure—and the future—are enough to keep them worlds apart.

This is a stand-alone title but coordinates with The Preservation Series:

Preservation (Book One, Available Now)

Reservation (Book Two, Available Now)

Declaration (Book Three, Coming 2013)

Author Bio:

 Rachael Wade is the Amazon bestselling author of The Preservation Series, The Resistance Trilogy, and the upcoming sci-fi series, The Keepers Trilogy. When she's not writing, she's busy learning French, watching too many movies, and learning how to protect animals and the environment. Visit her at www.RachaelWade.com and www.LightsOnOutreach.com, or come chat with her on Twitter via @RachaelWade.

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Excerpt:

“Emma.” Jackson’s breath stirred my hair. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hhhmmm?”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

I sat up and stifled a yawn, moving to slide to the other end of the seat. I reached for the door handle and glanced down at my feet, struggling to see where I’d dropped my purse.

“Looking for this?” Jackson stretched to the middle console and pulled out my small black clutch.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

He handed it to me and gently caught my wrist, his eyes finding mine in the dim parking lot light. “I had a good time with you tonight.” I remained still, the air in the truck thick as the need in his voice. It was a statement, but something in his tone made it sound like a request. His other hand came up and cupped my thigh. He grasped hard and swung my leg around to pivot my waist, then wrenched me back over the seat toward him, the bare skin of my calves slipping around his hips until our bodies collided. He moved so fast, I didn’t know where his breaths began or mine ended, didn’t know when the space between our mouths disappeared.

All I knew was I intended to keep it that way.

His fingers threaded through my hair and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I opened wide for him and moaned into the kiss, allowing all of the night’s tension to melt there, gasping against him when he hooked one of my legs tighter around his side, digging my high heel into his back. The pressure coaxed a low growl from deep in his throat and he nipped my lip before drawing it back to his tongue, inching his fingers beneath the back of my shirt to smooth them over my spine. I was planted firmly on his lap now, my fingers clawing at the back of his neck.

There were countless reasons to push him away. Too many reasons to stop this—whatever this was—and go straight into my apartment before we did anymore damage. But my insides were on fire, my skin singing from his touch, and a vague ache deepened in the pit of my stomach, one that had wanted to know what it would be like to kiss Jackson again. This time without any reservations.

I squeezed my thighs tighter around him and sucked his tongue. He was every inch as delicious as I’d remembered, and even more so. No matter how desperately I tasted him, I couldn’t get enough. Unable to control my hands, I slipped them under his shirt to trace the contour of his chest and down the slope of his abdomen. Goose bumps shot up my arms when he leaned back to let me feel him, dropping his hands to find my ankles, rubbing his fingers against them in soothing, circular motions.

Sense dug its claws into me. I dragged my lips from his and pushed off his chest, landing on the heels of my hands.  “Jack—”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice was low, rough, fingers still playing with the skin of my ankles. “Tell me what you want.”

“Will you walk me up? You can stay...we can put more ice on that eye.”

He paused a beat and grazed his nose over mine and laughed, the husky sound making my fiery insides flare, his hot breath tickling my cheek. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” He drew his head back and cleared his throat. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, Em. I’ve been dying to taste you for so long. I can’t get that night out of my head, you don’t even know, baby. I know you made yourself clear with where we stand and all, but I can’t—”

I pressed my fingers to his lips and pinched down to silence them. “Just come up. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight.” I dropped my hand from his mouth and gave him a peck on the cheek. My mind flashed forward to what would happen if I brought him upstairs, and my stomach fluttered as I focused in on his heady, tropical scent and his firm, strong body. Part of me wanted to play nurse, tend to his injuries, and keep a distance between us. But another part of me, a part that was suddenly filled with urgency, started to forget our friend/enemy status and steadily focus on our attraction. This wouldn’t be a casual hook-up or a friends with benefits deal, would it? What was Jackson to me, anyway? A single memory sparked and reminded me of the one thing I knew: he was the man with the blanket that night. The man with the strong arms, empathetic face, and soothing voice.

He was Jackson.

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