Rhonda Nelson - The Sex Diet

Oh, God, how Sam wanted to. She pushed her aching nipple farther into his palm and whimpered when he thumbed it through her shirt.

“I’ll take you to the edge, as many times as you want, I promise.” He licked her neck, creating a blaze of sensation. “Starting right now. All you have to do is tell me…”

Hank found her mouth and kissed her deeply. His hand left her breast and slowly moved lower, slipping beneath her waistband, then beneath her panties. At the first brush of those talented fingers, a startled cry broke from her lips.

His hot breath fanned against her ear. “All you have to do is say yes…” he whispered.

A shiver shook her. Ahhh, this felt good, Sam thought. But the warm tingling feeling had only just started when Hank moved his hand, making her inhale sharply, bringing her instantly to the peak.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Sam cried, reveling in the waves of exquisite sensation as her first ever orgasm ripped through her.

Dear Reader,

When the idea behind this book first came to me, it really struck a chord. I think at some point in our lives we all go through an ugly-duckling stage—and some of us stay in it longer than others! Let’s face it, the things we go through during those awkward years are enough to make any woman question her self-worth. After all, we live in a world where the words thin and perfect are synonymous with beauty.

But it isn’t right. And so, in The Sex Diet, I’m taking authorial license to write about things the way they should be. My heroine, Samantha McCafferty, is the ultimate ugly duckling. Only, she’s not going to take it lying down…at least, not yet. First, she has a plan. She’s going to do whatever it takes to have Hank Masterson, her first and only love, right where she wants him—in her bed! And if she’s lucky, she might even be able to keep him there.

I hope you enjoy Hank and Samantha’s story. And for those of you thinking about trying the sex diet themselves, watch out for allergies!

Happy reading!

Rhonda Nelson

P.S. Be sure to visit me at my Web site, www.BooksByRhondaNelson.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to a wonderful woman whom I love and respect, a loyal friend, confidante and kindred spirit, a cousin by relation, but a sister of the heart—

Sheila Pierce Sherrod. My life is so much richer with you in it.

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

Epilogue

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING.”

The perky receptionist behind the counter of Clearwater Bed and Breakfast smiled uncomfortably. “Er…no. I don’t have a reservation in your name, Ms. McCafferty.”

Samantha McCafferty absently scratched her arm and squelched a vicious stab of irritation. The damned antihistamine was wearing off and if she didn’t get another dose soon, she’d undoubtedly break out in ugly red hives from head to toe. That would certainly negate any appeal she might hope to garner through this sex diet, Samantha thought as she pictured her swollen, hive-covered face wearing a seductive smile. Ugh. Not pretty. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She didn’t have time for this inconvenience. She needed that medicine now.

“Look, I don’t care whether you’ve got my name in your system or not,” Samantha told her, making a valiant effort to keep a note of annoyance from her tone. “I have a standing reservation. I’ve been vacationing here since I was a child, and have continued the tradition into my adulthood.” She smiled sweetly. “The first week of September, in the Oleander Suite. Put me there.” Before I turn into one giant red blob, Sam thought, covertly scratching her side. Oh, the pains one endured to be attractive.

The receptionist—Tina, according to her name tag—winced regretfully. “I’m afraid that room is already booked.”

“What?” Samantha felt the first stirrings of genuine alarm and leaned forward anxiously. That couldn’t possibly be right. This had to be a mistake. Her entire plan—Operation Orgasm—centered around this vacation. She was three days into the sex diet—the one guaranteed to make her attractive to the opposite sex—for pity’s sake and, if the way the guy in seat B2 on the flight down had been acting had been any indication, it was definitely beginning to work. She couldn’t afford for things to get screwed up now. Annoyed, she scratched her thigh.

“It’s booked,” Tina said apologetically and lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “Everything is booked. Has been since they announced the Belle of the Beach contest.”

Oh, no! Samantha mentally wailed. This could not be happening. Everything could not be booked. Surely Hank wouldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t have. Not this time, dammit. She’d kill him.

Samantha had been so busy pondering the everything-is-booked statement that it took a moment for the rest of what the clerk had said to filter through her turbulent thoughts, but when it did her brow furrowed. “The Belle of the Beach contest?” It sounded vaguely familiar, she thought. Had Hank mentioned it?

Tina gestured a manicured hand at a flyer on the wall. “Yep. It’s this weekend. The winner gets an all-expense-paid trip to the Bahamas, as well as a new SUV and ten grand in prize money.”

Samantha whistled low, gazed at the glitzy flyer. She could certainly use ten grand. She’d been steadily setting aside a nest egg since she’d graduated from college for a down payment on a future house, but living expenses combined with her student-loan debt had hindered her progress.

She made a good living as a dietician at one of Aspen’s posh spas—Cedar Crest—but the cost of living was staggering and, for reasons she didn’t fully understand, she’d recently decided it was time to return to her southern roots, move back to Orange Beach, Alabama, where she’d grown up.

Samantha had lost her parents at sixteen—victims of a drunk driver—and had moved in with her grandmother, her only living relative. Then, sadly, two years later, Gran had passed away, leaving her completely orphaned. Were it not for Hank Masterson—her longtime friend and, lamentably, the unrequited love of her life—and his parents, Samantha didn’t know what she would have done. The Mastersons were her godparents and had done everything they could to help make her way easier. She’d appreciated their help, but staying in Orange Beach and attending community college just hadn’t seemed right, particularly after Hank had moved away to Tuscaloosa.

Four years older than her, Hank had graduated from the University of Alabama the year she’d graduated from high school. Samantha had fully expected him to return to Orange Beach—had been particularly hurt that he hadn’t—and, when he’d decided not to come home, Samantha had decided it was time for her to leave as well.