Cerise DeLand gets TOP PICK, 5 stars for her contemporary military romance WHENEVER WE TOUCH
starring an Army nurse who comes home to her hunky hubby and wonders if she should make the marriage work.
Here first is the blurb:
Lieutenant Amy Rawlins flies home from her year nursing wounded GIs intending to jettison the sexy rancher she married the weekend before she left the States. She and her husband Garrett have only two things in common, a last name…and lust. She’s too damaged to be a proper wife, so she’s got to end their sham of a marriage and set him free. But Garrett knows why he and Amy were so wild to claim each other. From the moment they touched, their chemistry went nuclear. But there’s more to their union than hot hookups all over his house. There’s passion, yes, but love too, the kind that can last a lifetime. He won’t let Amy walk away from that so easily. Instead, he demands a week with his luscious, loving wife. He’ll use his hands, his lips and all his other sizable attributes to prove to her that when two lovers touch, their hearts speak as loudly as their bodies.
AND HERE IS NIGHT OWL’S REVIEW! This novella is one that is both touching and arousing in a winning combination. The sensitivity with which the author presents the issues that confronts those who care for the brave souls who put their lives on the line provides an emotional hook, while the deep loyalty displayed by a man who has done the best he could to support and prepare for the return of the woman he loves makes this a richly romantic tale.
The way the story builds is a great journey and I was mesmerized from the very beginning. I look forward to more stunning stories from this talented author. “Whenever We Touch” by Cerise deLand is the wonderfully emotional contemporary erotic military romance story of Lieutenant Amy Rawlins and the husband, Garrett, she hasn’t seen in a year. A marriage that took place at the spur of the moment is in danger of being destroyed when Amy returns from the front lines and isn’t sure what she has to contribute to the relationship. Garrett is prepared to use the determination that allowed him to become a champion bronco rider to fight for his marriage and remind his wife of the sizzling connection they share, but he may have an impossible task to overcome. REVIEW
Nibble on Cerise’s cherry: Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.
Grabbing a breath, Garrett hitched his fingers in his belt loops and sidestepped her to walk down to the riverbed. The water rippled, a bubbling sound that sadly didn’t drown out the chaos in his mind. They should ride home, get out of the sun before they fried—and fought. He stiffened as her long arms circled his waist and she pressed her torso to his back, her cheek to his shoulder. He fought the urge to cover her arms and hands with his and keep her there, embracing him. But what good would that do? Tired, weary from lack of sleep and worrying over her most of the night, he hung his head.
“What are you doing, Amy?”
“’Hug me.’” He pushed out of her hold, heading for his horse. “We should go home.”
“Why do you walk away from me?” Checking the straps on his mount, he shook his head. Too much torture to stand so near, that’s why.
“Talk to me,” she insisted, right behind him. “We can’t resolve what’s between us if you won’t let me carry on a conversation with you. You put your list on the table, and you told me you’d like to have me complete them. But what good are any of them if you keep walking away from me?”
He spun and she was a warm breath away, peering up at him with piss and vinegar in her expression.
“Is that what you’re doing? Ticking off items on a list?”
“Not then, no, I wasn’t. I was…being spontaneous. Do you want me to hug you, or not?” He spread his arms wide, palms up in mock surrender. “Fine. Do it.”
“But you won’t touch me, is that it?” Sparks lit in her brown eyes. “You won’t hug me back?”
“I told you I wouldn’t pressure you.”
“Or touch me.”
“You made that rule, not me.” She set her jaw.
“I did what seemed right in my gut. So I can’t change my mind, but I can make a fool of myself, is that right? Does your ego demand so much coddling?” Now she was going too far.
“You don’t have to insult me.” She drilled a finger into his chest.
“No? What do I need to do then?” He fought the urge to laugh. A better one overtook him though. “Go ahead. Hug me.”
“Why?” She squinted at him, angry as a bobcat.
As if complicit in her ire, the wind whipped up, blowing the leaves from the trees.
“What would I get in return?”
“Won’t know ’til you try.”
She pulled back to stare at him, her gaze wary, but warming to possibilities. As if she were in a daze, she rose on her toes, curled a hand around his nape and brought his face toward her own.
Her mouth looked supple and yielding, the promise of tasting her a lure that wiped his mind of all good sense. Hell yeah he wanted her lips and whatever else she yearned to give him. He’d be a fool to refuse the chance. The wind whistled around them, the sun disappearing. But the warmth it took was replaced by the look on her face. Dire need and sweet surrender lived on her face as she moved so close to him. She kissed him. Her lips were soft as heaven, meeting his, pressing his, inviting and brushing his. \“Garrett,” she whispered, breaking away and coming back to claim his mouth with urgency and a passion he was a fool to crave. He crushed her tight little body close, bracing himself to hold her and never let her go.
“Garrett,” she whispered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “I missed you.”
It was a confession that blew his mind. But it was also a heady prelude to what needed to be a longer conversation. Nevertheless, her admission ran like liquid flame through his system. He went blind with the words, caught her up in his arms and headed back toward the log she’d sat on. With her in his lap, he ran one hand through her soft red curls and held her mouth to his for a deep, satisfying taste of her. She was so soft, everywhere, her hair, her cheek, her throat. He kissed every sweet naked spot of skin, and she writhed, her hands fisting in his hair.
She planted her lips on his again, their mating a wild invitation to take more, give more. He had to be dreaming, but couldn’t stop to figure it out. All the Army spouses in the support group knew rule one was to let the returning soldier lead when it came to intimacies.
He had restrained himself. Honest to God, he’d done his best, but if she was willing, he was not going to rely on his nobility. He was going to give the lady what she wanted. Cupping her jaw, he held her still while he seized her mouth and let his tongue dance with hers.
She moved against him, skimming his chest with one hand. If she wanted to make sure he had a hard interest in her, she could move lower for proof. She played with fire here. From somewhere in his reptile brain, he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t take this any further. Not out in the brush with fire ants, scorpions, dust and rocks. If he was going to be so fortunate as to have his wife two days after her return, he sure as hell was not going to fuck her out in the hills. He would take her in a bed where he could see all her naked beauty and pleasure her until she screamed. He let her kiss him and he returned the favors until the fervor ran down to a silent river of need. But he couldn’t be the one to lead, could he? She had to know precisely what she was doing. He needed her fully aware of whatever choice she made.
She ran a fingertip over the swell of his bottom lip. “I think that was number seven on your list.”
“I liked the way you did it too.” She laughed lightly.
“So I gathered.” He hugged her close and sighed, hating to part with her. “Ready to go home?”
She regarded him for a long second, wary, needy, her eyes searching his. “Feel like doing any of the others on your list?”
His fondest desire. In answer, he hugged her like a bear. “Anything strike your fancy?”
She let her eyebrows rise and fall like a femme fatale. “Play checkers with me?”
He snorted and pinched her ass. Checkers was number one on his list. He’d put it there to make her laugh and soften her up. “You are a terrible gamer.”
“Yeah. And you learned that when I was ten.”
“I confess. I knew you’d never win,” he taunted her.
She toyed with the edge of his collar, then pinned him with her gaze. “At checkers. Did you figure you’d win at all the others too?”
“I wasn’t sure,” he told her, his voice gravel, his heart in the dust. “I want you to choose your future, Amy. I don’t want you any other way except whole heartedly.”
“I’d better hurry up and finish the list then, huh?”
“You gave yourself a week. Take more if you want.” Though I might die of waiting.
“And you won’t rush me, will you?” she asked with confidence.
“Why would I? What I’m playing for is a lifetime.”