She had to kiss Knox? In front of all these people?
“Quit looking like the instructor just issued a death sentence,” he whispered through a brittle smile. “We’re supposed to be married, remember?”
“Right,” she said breathlessly.
“It’s just a kiss,” Knox said unsteadily. “We can handle it.”
With anticipation and anxiety, Savannah’s eyes fluttered shut as Knox’s warm lips descended to hers. How many times had she dreamed of this? With a groan of pure delight she pressed herself against him. Their tongues played a game of hide-and-seek, and with every movement, Savannah grew more agitated, more needy. Knox tightened his hold on her, and she felt his hand slide from the small of her back to cup her bottom. She groaned in delight.
From the dimmest recesses of her mind Savannah realized that the room had grown ominously quiet. She reluctantly dragged her lips away from Knox’s and saw the instructor grinning broadly at them.
“It looks like Knox and his wife have passed our little test with flying colors,” the woman announced, her eyes twinkling knowingly. “No further instruction on this subject seems to be necessary.”
Dear Reader,
While cruising the Internet looking at sex toys-—research for my first Blaze novel, Just Toying Around…I swear!—the same word kept popping up. Tantra, or Tantric. Intrigued, I decided to do a little investigating and discovered that Tantric sex, though I’d never heard of it, had been around since 3000 B.C. and despite its dusty spiritual heritage, was swiftly gaining new popularity. It didn’t take long to imagine a hero and heroine getting caught up in the mystical world of Tantra, and thus Knox and Savannah’s story was born.
Journalist Knox Webber needs a weekend lover with one special requirement—he can’t be attracted to her. Knox is on the scent of a great story, but in order to prove the touted Tantric way, which promises heightened awareness, spiritual gratification and hourlong full-body orgasms, is nothing but a farce, Knox needs to attend one of the popular Tantric Sex Clinics on the West Coast…and he needs a partner who won’t distract him from his main goal—getting the story.
Savannah Reeves-—his archenemy-—fits the bill perfectly. But as the weekend progresses, sexual tension between them explodes and the resulting heat soon burns up all preconceived notions about the ancient art of lovemaking. Chemistry or Tantra, they wonder…and will it last once the weekend is over?
I hope you enjoy Knox and Savannah’s sexy romantic romp.
Enjoy!
Rhonda Nelson
Show & Tell
Rhonda Nelson
MILLS & BOON
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Once upon a time there was a towheaded, chubby-cheeked, demonic little prankster who grew into one of the best-looking, most hardworking, kindhearted and admirable men I have ever known—my brother, Greg Moore.
Being smarter than 98 percent of the population
called for a great dedication, eh, Bubba?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
1
KNOX WEBBER ABSENTLY SWIRLED the liquor around his glass as he watched the naked couple displayed on his television screen gyrate in sexual ecstasy. They sat in a pool of fuzzy golden light, face to face, palm to palm, the woman’s hips anchored around the man’s waist. Her long blond hair shimmered over her bare shoulders. She threw her head back and her mouth formed a perfect O of orgasmic wonder. The video’s hypnotic narrator droned from the hi-fi speakers placed strategically around Knox’s plush glass-and-chrome apartment.
“Let the tantric energy flow. You’ll feel the power wash over you, through you and around you as your male and female energies merge. This wave of utter bliss will transport you and your partner to a new plane in sexual rapture, a new plane of enlightenment and awareness, where you’ll flow in harmony with your lover and the rest of the world. Synchronized, controlled breathing is essential…”
Sheesh.
Knox snorted and hit the stop button on his remote control. He’d seen enough. He’d watched the how-to video on one of the best home-theater systems money could buy—a fifty-five-inch digitally mastered screen with superior resolution, picture in picture, and quality sound—and he still thought the entire concept of tantric sex was a load of crap.
Regrettably, it was becoming an increasingly popular load of crap and it just might be the one story he’d been looking for, the one pivotal article that would give him an edge over his competitors. Knox currently enjoyed a top spot in the Chicago scene of investigative journalism, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted a Pulitzer. A wry smile twisted his lips. Granted, this story most likely wouldn’t win him the coveted award, but it could put him that much closer to his goal. The thought sent a shot of adrenaline coursing through his blood.
Call it journalistic intuition, all he knew was each time Knox caught the scent of a good story, he’d get a curious feeling in his gut, an insistent nudge behind his naval that, so far, had never steered him wrong. This sixth sense had propelled him into his current comfortable position with the Chicago Phoenix, had earned
