Today I’m picking up for men, and I hope you’ll join me. No male-bashing, just showing them pure love. Check out my list, and I’m sure you’ll be able to relate to some of these reasons.
- He kills bugs. I hate roaches, especially the gigantic ones they have here in Georgia that everyone calls water bugs. I heard they can survive a nuclear holocaust. Yes, the world will be a desolate, charred fraction of itself, but they’ll still be running around. Gross. *shivers*
- He’s strong enough to lift heavy objects by himself. If he isn’t, he’s got a few friends he can call to help him.
- The way he smells. Not just cologne, but his body’s natural scent, which makes you want to bury your nose in his neck and take a deep breath. There’s nothing like the scent of a man.
- His level of confidence and self-esteem about his appearance. While we’re obsessing about making sure every hair is in place and our clothes match perfectly, he slaps a cap on his head and drags on a pair of wrinkled jeans and is out the door in five minutes, when it takes us ten times as long.
- The chivalrous acts, like opening doors; or one of my all-time favorites, running out in the rain to bring around the car. Gotta love a man who’s willing to get soaking wet so you can stay dry.
- The way he loves a home-cooked anything: a meal, cookies, even a sandwich can get you a grateful look that makes you think you just offered him a life-saving kidney.
- He takes care of you. He’ll wash the car, change the oil, pump the gas, and take out the trash. All the things I hate to do.
- The way he laughs. That sexy, throaty laugh men have.
- The nonchalant but possessive way he puts his arm around you or rests his hand at the small of your back when you go out, as if to announce to the world that you’re his woman and all others need to back off.
- The way he reaches for you and acts as if you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and tells you he loves you…in that voice…that lets you know he really does, even if he doesn’t say it all the time.
Delaney Diamond is the bestselling author of sweet and sensual romance with heroes who exhibit solid reasons for the heroine to fall in love with them. She’s currently working on Book 3 in her Hot Latin Men series. Below is an excerpt from Book 2, Fight for Love.
Science teacher Rebekah Jamison lives a quiet life in the suburbs of Atlanta. Devastated by a tabloid scandal nine years ago, she ended her marriage to the man her parents never approved of. Rafael Lopez, former professional wrestler and “Sexiest Athlete Alive,” regrets the lapse in judgment that caused him to lose his wife. He shows up unannounced one day with some startling news, but he gets a surprise of his own. He finds out he’s a father. To get to know his son, he whisks him and Rebekah off to his home in the Hollywood Hills for the summer.
After Rafael finds out he's a father, he surprises Rebekah when he tells her the reason for his visit is to inform her they're still married. The following takes place in a scene right after that where Rebekah throws the tabloid scandal in his face.
He stepped angrily toward her, but this time, she didn't retreat. She stood her ground, almost eye to eye with him on the bottom stair. The only indication she was even the least bit disturbed was in the almost unnoticeable tightening of her hand on the balustrade.
"You always could make my blood boil," he ground out. In more ways than one.
He lowered his gaze to take in the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the pink top. The provocative protrusion of her nipples against the material tortured him mercilessly. The shallow inhalation of her soft breaths teased his senses and stoked the flame of arousal in his loins.
He could clearly see in her face that she was not any more immune to him than he was to her. Without thinking, he reached up to stroke her face, and was rewarded when her hand swatted his away.
"Don't you dare touch me," she whispered fiercely, her eyes darkening in anger. Had he imagined the desire he saw smoldering there? "Don’t think for one minute that because of an unfortunate twist of fate that kept us married you have any right to touch me. You gave up that right years ago."
"I suppose you've had plenty of opportunity for exploration since then." He shouldn't have mentioned it, but he couldn't help himself. His stomach muscles tensed as if in preparation for a punch.
"I suppose it's none of your business," Rebekah replied with a defiant tilt to her chin.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Over the years, he'd used other women to help him get over losing her, yet here he was, torn apart by jealousy at the thought that any other man had touched what was his.
Rebekah took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with." She marched up the stairs.
Rafael followed more slowly. He took in the view from a few feet behind her, the curve of her bottom and the shapely brown thighs in a pair of cut-off denim shorts. Thighs he wished he could now slide between and ease this voracious craving for her.
Emblazoned in his mind was the image of her beneath him in their bed, his fingers entwined in the tangled disarray of her long hair as she moaned her encouragement. He could still hear the sweet words. Mmm...yes, I like that...please...don’t stop...ahh...Rafe...Yes! Yes!
He had been her first. Every chauvinistic bone in his body rebelled against the thought that others had been in her bed and now knew the truth beneath her reserved exterior—that she was a passionate, giving lover. That even though he had prided himself on being her teacher, the exuberance of her responses and sweetness of her touch had wielded substantial power over him.
More than she even realized.
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