- N. N. Light
Unanswered Prayers by @MMaloneAuthor is a Love and Romance Festival pick #freebie #romance #giveaway
Title: Unanswered Prayers
Author: Morgan Malone
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Naomi Stein is just praying for a little peace from her son, her ex-husband and her boss. Instead, she is following surly Country singer Sam Rhodes across the USA, covering his breakout tour for Rolling Stone. Sam has had bad luck with women and Naomi is trouble from the start. Sam tries to keep the feisty, sexy blonde at arm’s length…until Naomi pushes him over the edge. The hottest tour of the summer has just caught on fire. The music gets better and the romance steamier as they criss-cross the country.
Will their passion burn out as autumn approaches? Stubborn pride forces them apart until the tragedy of 9/11 compels them to face each other one more time.
Sam was just striding out of the elevator into the lobby when he saw Naomi. At least he thought it was Naomi, heading out of the hotel, just steps ahead of him. Calling her name, he ran to catch up with her. Naomi slowed her pace and turned. Sam skidded to a stop in front of her.
No words formed in his mouth because he was speechless at the sight of her. That is a whole lot of woman. Naomi had on a long black dress, clingy but not tight, hugging that gorgeous butt of hers and holding her beautiful breasts in its soft caress. The slit up to her knee showed her long legs, revealing her perfect calves. She wasn’t wearing her trademark cowboy boots or those ridiculous turquoise moccasins she wandered around in sometimes, but some strappy black heels. The warming breeze started blowing her hair around her shoulders, and that’s when Sam realized why he hadn’t been sure it was her. Her hair was straight, pulled back from her face with a black clip. She wasn’t wearing much makeup either. Not that she needs it, Sam thought. She looks like she’s had about ten hours of sleep, with nothing but sweet dreams.
“What did you do to your hair?” was the first thing out of his mouth. His eyes skimmed over her, looking for any other signs of his abuse. His cheeks reddened as he thought of the bruises on her hip.
“I blew it out this morning after my shower. Takes forever, but I like it to be a little less…um, flamboyant when I go to shul. I mean, services.”
“You’re going to church?” Sam was confused. “After last night?”
Naomi’s eyes flared, and Sam had the grace to look embarrassed. “I mean, I thought you’d sleep in this morning.”
“Oh. Good. I’m glad you weren’t trying to imply that a sinner such as myself had no business worshiping with decent people. I’d have to call you a hypocrite,” she snapped. He snuck off to church himself when he had some time and could find a Southern Baptist church to his liking—one with lots of singing.
“Hell, Naomi, you know that’s not what I meant. It’s Saturday….” Sam felt somewhat abashed, especially since he was getting uncomfortably hard just standing close to her. When she was angry, her chest heaved, by God it did, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Jews go to services on Saturday morning. It’s the Sabbath. I am a Jew so I’m going to services,” she explained, patiently. He hoped the woman would take pity on him, he was so uncomfortable around her, ashamed and aroused all at the same time. “Look, when I get the chance, and I can find a synagogue near where I’m staying, I like to visit them when I’m traveling. Makes me feel connected and, sometimes, I just need the peace. There’s a nice Reform temple just around the corner. I found it last time I was here, so I thought since we were staying over, I’d go to services. It’s no big deal.”
“Can I walk with you? We need to talk.” Sam took her arm and then stopped. The heat that flashed through him just by touching her stunned him. She felt it too, he could tell by the faint tremor that rippled through her. What the hell is this?
“Naomi, I’m sorry about last night.” She started to speak, so he rushed on. “I’m not sorry that we made love, but I’m so sorry that I hurt you. You have every right to be disgusted. I lost control, and I was too rough with you.” He was starting to choke on the words, the bile rising in his throat at his fierce treatment of her, but he had to get it out. “I left marks on you. I never would have believed I could do such a thing if I hadn’t seen the bruises on your hip. And I didn’t use any protection, either.” He cast her a sidelong glance and stuttered to a stop. She had that shit-eating grin again, like last night.
“Well, you’re in for a surprise. Look at this one!” she laughed, as she pulled the neckline of her dress down to reveal a hickey near her collarbone. “Sam,” she said gently, curling her hand around his neck and pulling him a little closer so he could hear her whispered words, “I have never been f**ked like that before in my life!” His mouth dropped open.
“Jesus, Naomi, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“Yup.” Naomi grinned. “And I pray with it too and sing in the shower and drink tequila, and I even kiss randy country singers with it!”
“Sam, Sam. Do you know what it does to a thirty-six year old woman with a twelve-year old son, some stretch marks, and a few well-concealed grey hairs to be wanted so badly by a man that his hands shake? Your desire for me was the best aphrodisiac in the world. You lost control? You made me lose control! Me! I am the biggest control freak in the world, and I would have done anything you wanted me to last night just to get closer to your fire, just to see if you could make me burn the way you were burning. And you did. I swear to you, I had only read about orgasms like that. I’m not sorry about anything we did. We’re grown-ups, we’re not responsible to anyone, and we’ve paid our dues. The kind of sex we had doesn’t happen to everyone, it’s pretty rare from what I’ve heard. And I will never forget it. As for protection, I’m on the pill. I need it to regulate my periods.” She reached up to kiss his chin chastely. “Now, can I go to services and repent, just in case...?”
Sam stood staring at her. This woman was something—he wasn’t sure what—but he knew he wanted to find out more about her. She was a bundle of contradictions. He had just scratched the surface of all that was Naomi. And he wanted her again, now and later.
“Come on,” he said, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, “I’ll walk you.”
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Morgan Malone has been reading romance since the age of twelve, when she first snuck her mother’s copy of The Saracen Blade under the covers to read by flashlight. An award-winning published author of fiction by the age of eight, Morgan waited fifty years, including thirty as an Administrative Law Judge, to pen her next work of fiction. Now retired, Morgan lives near Saratoga Springs, NY. with her diva rescue dog, Princess. When not writing later-in-life romance, Morgan is penning romantic memoirs or painting watercolors. She travels frequently with her daughter, and spends as much time as possible time with her son, daughter-in-law, and two delightful grandsons who live nearby.
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