Guest Author--Wendy Ely

Let's talk about sex for a few. Okay, the condoms involved (or not!) with the sex.

The couple has been through all of their drama stuff: sexual tension between the two, outside issues, internal issues (its a romance, of course!) and finally decided to come together. It might be rip-my-clothes-off-and-take-me-now kind of sex that is filled with so much fire and passion it could burn the building down. Or might be the take-your-time-and-discover-every-part-of-me kind of sex. Both are great and work well in romances. So we get the characters to this scene. They are kissing, touching, yearning for each other. One character pulls out a condom or mentions the use of one. Do you think it ruins the scene? Takes away from the fantasy and sensuality that romance novels bring?

I don't remember adding condom use in any of my books, but I've read some of my favorite author's books that have included condoms. The scenes were done with class and only a few words were added to show that the sex was protected. I didn't mind a bit because it fit with the character's personality. I do think the action of pulling out a condom or denying the other sex would throw me off if the character had been some careless risk taker unless he/she were paranoid of having kids.

 

So what do you think? Condoms or no condoms? I think I might want to add one in a book somewhere to mix things up a bit. Hm, something to think about for sure.

Confessions excerpt:

Jordan sat down on the couch and patted the floor in front of him. “Sit down. Let me get those knots out.”

She took a few steps in his direction, stopping out of his reach, afraid to let him touch her. If he touched her, then she’d fall madly in love with him all over again. That couldn’t happen.

She watched as he leaned forward far enough to grab her by the hand. He pulled her to him.

“Are you sure you want to?”

“Yes,” he said. He guided her down to the floor between his legs. Before leaning back, she slipped her t-shirt off, revealing the navy tank top. His strong hands slid over her skin and she sunk back against him. She’d forgotten how strong he was, how needy she felt when he touched her. As if by magic, her body slowly began to relax underneath his touch. He kneaded her skin with the palms of his hands. The more he touched her, the more she felt at ease. She leaned forward a bit, making his legs embrace the rest of her body. His hands trailed down the length of her back toward the top of her jeans. A small moan escaped her lips. If only he would go lower.

“Feel good?” The words floated through the air like music from a past dream.

“Mm hm.”

He rubbed the small of her back, his hands working every muscle imaginable. “Remember when I would rub your feet each night after work?”

“The best part of the whole day.” His hands. His voice. He had cast a spell over her.

“I loved those times with you, Chels.”

Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, breaking up her intoxicated sensation. Chels? He used to call her that when they were teenagers. He was the only person who’d ever had a pet name for her.

“Me, too,” she mumbled.

“That’s what has gotten me through until now. Those memories of us from before you disappeared.” His hands stilled, but she could feel their heat against her.

Damn it! Tears welled in her eyes. He couldn’t see them, she wouldn’t allow him to. She scooted away him his touch, far enough away so she could stand up on her own without using his assistance.

“I’m sorry, Jordan. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“What are you talking about, Chelsea?” He tried to grab her by the hand again but this time she walked away from him. She went over to the windows, dried her eyes and then turned around.

“I told you everything, so now I should go.” She walked past him toward the stairs.

“No, you won’t.” The words were ice cold. It seemed like his massage had been some sort of dream.

She froze. “What do you mean, I won’t?”

“Let’s get something clear. Okay?”

She slowly turned around. She had never heard this tone from Jordan in the whole time she had known him. It scared her.

“What?”

He stood up from the couch and walked over to her. His hands jammed into his jean pockets. “There’s a choice to be made here,” he said. “You either stay here to help me locate my daughter or I contact the authorities.”

Get your copy of Confessions here: http://amzn.com/B00A3FVT84

Find Wendy here:

Email: authorwendyely@gmail.com

Facebook fan page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Wendy-Ely/159969607422152

Amazon author page: http://amzn.com/e/B008SA6TJK

Twitter: @wendyelyauthor

Blog: http://www.wendyely.blogspot.com/

 

Wendy Ely