When her climax finally began to wane, she went limp against the bedspread, blinking slowly as she stared at the ceiling. "Oh..."
Ben chuckled, climbing over her and positioning himself at her entrance. "I've really missed this, Aria."
Aria wrapped her arms around his neck, the exhaustion from seconds ago suddenly gone at the prospect of him inside her. "Now, Ben. I need you."
He growled, pushing his entire length inside of her.
She clenched tighter against him, pulling every inch of him into her and savoring the full sensation. Her legs wrapped around him, she pushed their bodies so far together, she was certain neither of them would know where they ended and the other began.
"I love you, Aria," Ben whispered to her again as he began slowly and methodically pumping in and out of her. "I love you so much."
"I love you," she replied, her lips pressed against his ear as she took him again and again.
Aria was suddenly hit with an emotional tidal wave, a desperation to hold on to the man she loved and never let go. Everything she'd pushed aside for months, weeks, days...swept away in a flood of truth as she realized that she wasn't just saying the words. She wasn't just in love with this man. She was meant to be with him.
Ben was the one, and for the first time ever, she could wholeheartedly admit that she believed in soul mates. She believed in them.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Ben glanced out the car window as they approached the red carpet entrance. "We're almost here. Two cars before us, then our turn."
"Ugh. I can't do this," Aria said from the seat next to him, leaning her head back against the headrest. "Ben, I can't go out there. Let’s just go home.”
“It’d take us another hour to drive all the way back to the beach, babe,” Ben said with a laugh. They’d purchased their dream home overlooking the Pacific Ocean that was both expansive and cozy. For the first time, Ben understood what it meant to have a home, and that it was about so much more than four walls. “Aria, you can do this. You look beautiful.”
"Don't lie to me, Ben. I know I look like a beached whale in rhinestones, okay?" Aria ran her hands over her swollen belly, which to him made her only that much more beautiful. How could he not find the mother of his future child breathtaking? "Do you know how many pins are holding me into this dress? I just got it fitted last week, and I'm already busting out of it."
Ben chuckled, pride filling him as the car moved closer to their destination. "Lawson men make big babies."
"Ben, I'm serious!” Aria huffed. “What if I can't get out of the damn car because I'm too big to fit through the door? What if my dress splits on stage? The press is going to rip me to pieces."
She was definitely beginning to spiral, and Ben didn't blame her one bit. This was her second time attending the Academy Awards and she was nominated for her first Oscar thanks to her most recent leading role in Murals. Last year, Travis had taken home the Oscar for Best Actor for Scarlet's Letters, and Aria had cheered him on the entire time.
She hadn't been nominated for that film last year, but had come back in a big way when Shepherd Films took over the production of Murals and cast Aria in the leading role solely based on her talent—something the press had finally stopped questioning after her stunning performance in Scarlet’s Letters.
Though there was some stiff competition for the award tonight, Ben had zero doubt that Aria was taking home the award for Best Actress.
Similarly, he was on a career high with his release of two Academy Award worthy films in a row. The moment Murals had fallen apart after the original producers lost support when word got out about their sexist leadership, Shepherd Films had swooped in and purchased it at an amazingly low cost. Ben completely believed in the movie—he had since the first time Aria had mentioned it to him—and had been thrilled to see it become a box office hit.
Ben was also thrilled that he and his company were getting a reputation for philanthropic films and causes, opening the door for even more advocacy work in the future. He planned to keep making films that meant something, that inspired people—his own personal dream come true.
"Aria, look at me." Ben took her hands in his, pressing his forehead gently against hers. "You. Are. Beautiful."
"Ben..." She began to pull away, doubt crinkling the corners of her eyes.
"I'm serious, Aria." He caressed her cheek with his hand, cupping her face gently. "I couldn't be prouder to be starting a family with you, and you look downright gorgeous. You're glowing, baby."
She laughed, leaning forward to kiss him. Unfortunately, she couldn't lean forward very far because of her very-pregnant belly, and quickly gave up. "Kiss me," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Kiss me and tell me we're not absolutely insane. The new project, the new house, the baby...are we crazy?"
"Oh, we're definitely crazy." But he kissed her with everything he had. Life had certainly been full of unexpected surprises over the last few years—the baby being one of the biggest—but Ben was completely committed and excited about every part of it, and he knew Aria was, too.
They were both working on new films with noteworthy buzz in addition to their non-profit work, which was quickly gaining them the reputation of Hollywood's newest power couple.
But even if all of those wins were suddenly stripped away and all he had in this world was Aria standing next to him, holding his hand...it would still be the best damn life he could ever imagine for himself.
When Ben finally pulled away and broke their kiss, Aria's anxieties seemed miles away. Her smile wide, her body relaxed. She kissed him one more time, the smile never leaving her lips.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded. "As I'll ever be."
They pulled up to the red carpet, and Ben climbed out first. He turned quickly to help Aria out of the car and shield her from photographers until she was ready.
Smoothing her dress, she took his hand. "Well, I fit through the car door. So…there’s that."
Ben laughed and squeezed her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing the back of her palm. Her diamond ring jabbed his cheek slightly, but he didn't mind a bit because it was just another reminder that this was his woman.
This was his family, his future, his soul mate.
"I love you, Mrs. Lawson."
Aria looked up at him from under long lashes. "I love you, too, Mr. Lawson." She placed her other hand on her belly, gazing adoringly at it. "You're going to be so loved, Baby Lawson."
Ben grinned, his heart bursting in his chest at how beautiful and perfect his wife looked in that moment. "He has no idea."
"Or she," Aria reminded him.
Honestly, Ben would be happy with whatever life had in store for them. As long as he had his wife by his side.
Photographers caught wind of their arrival, and the flash of cameras began.
"ARIA LAWSON! BEN LAWSON! LOOK OVER HERE!"
"ARIA ROSE, WHEN ARE YOU DUE?"
"ARIA, TELL US WHAT IT WAS LIKE BEING THE BEST MAN AT TRAVIS PETER'S WEDDING LAST WEEK TO HIS HUSBAND?"
"ARIA ROSE, DO YOU THINK YOU'LL WIN BEST ACTRESS FOR MURALS TONIGHT?"
"ARIA, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT BEING NAMED ‘ACTIVIST OF THE YEAR' BY ONE OF THE LARGEST WOMEN'S RIGHTS ORGANIZATION IN THE COUNTRY?"
The press shouted at them from behind a long metal fence. Aria smiled sweetly, posing both with Ben and by herself. She was already a pro, and he admired every second of watching her work the carpet. There was a grace to her that the press had finally begun to respect, and Ben loved how strong she was, and how she commanded respect from the very people who had once hung her out to dry.
No one was asking her about her sex life, or her nude photos, or even her outfit. They were asking about her career, her talent, her humanitarian efforts, her non-profit...they were focused on who Aria Rose was.
The women he admired more than any other.
The woman he was in love with, would raise a family with, and grow old together.
The woman he'd married last year in a small, serene beach wedding that only one teenager chasing Pokémon had crashed.
Ben had never been prouder in his life to step back and let his better half take the spotlight.
She was a shining star, and he'd happily spend the rest of his life helping her burn brighter and brighter.
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." —Emily Brontë
Acknowledgments
This book is uniquely special to me. It’s actually the first book I’ve written in a while that I had 100% freedom on, and my soul flourished without limits. In fact, I wrote the entire first draft of this book in fourteen days—an insane feat I still can’t believe happened.
The words just poured out of me.
Lauren Blakely, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author, told me after reading NUDES that it seemed like this was a story I had to tell. She was 100% right, and I didn’t realize how much so until I’d finished.
This story isn’t what it seems on the cover. Literally. And there’s a reason for that. Judge a book by its cover…or maybe…don’t. The perceptions and judgments we have of the people around us, people we meet online, people in magazines and on our television screens are powerful. They can be positive, and they can be horrifically destructive.
Here’s a “fun” fact about this book…remember all the online comments you just read directed toward Aria? The slut shaming, body shaming, etc? Each of those comments were not fabricated for this story. I found each and every one on celebrity social media pages, online entertainment articles comment sections, and other Internet forums. Aside from slight editing for spelling and length, these were real comments by real people.
Not just men attacking women, but also, women attacking other women. I wove that into the story a few times because we can’t blame this only on men when women so often lead the charge in tearing each other down. Hate is everywhere, and it doesn’t need to be.
That is why this book poured out of me. That is why I needed to write it. Anyone who follows me online knows I’m a card-carrying feminist, but more than that I strongly advocate for respect and equality for all individuals.
And it starts with us. Not the government. Not the powers that be. Not celebrities. Not our neighbors. We all have the power to help and influence the rest of the world to do the same.
We have the power to change how we treat one another, and how we treat strangers—online and in person. We have the power to raise a new generation to do better than we’ve done, be kinder than we are, and more tolerant of everyone.
Changing the world happens one person at a time.
We can each be that one person.
I hope after reading this story, you’ll find yourself challenged to think a little differently about how, or if, we could be doing more to support our fellow sisters. If you read this book and thought of Aria as a slut who brought this on herself, I’d challenge you to reconsider that belief and why a woman’s sexuality is so often something she’s blamed for.
I’m challenge each and every one of you reading this to think about if we could be doing more to bring an end to gender inequality, cyber bullying, sexual exploitation and assault, gender gaps, and glass ceilings. If we could be doing more to spread kindness rather than rumors.
We are all the same when we are…nude.
Dear Humans, We Can Do Better…
To Kim Loraine, I couldn’t have written this book without you. You were with my every step of the way, encouraging me to keep going and helping steer me to the finish line. Thank you, love.
To my agent, Nicole Resciniti, for supporting my solo efforts and being such a wonderful friend and confidante.
To Kay Springsteen Tate, for editing this novel and giving me the confidence to move forward. I always learn so much from you, and I’m so unbelievably lucky to have you on my team.
To the wonderful authors who never stop supporting me, like Lavinia Kent, Jenn Foor, Heidi McLaughlin, Tracy Wolff, Rachel van Dyken, Natasha Boyd, Jodi Ellen Malpas, Lauren Blakely, Alessandra Torre, Jennifer Lynn Armentrout, Ilsa Madden-Mills, Dante Medema, Lynne Silver, Katie Rose, Lauren Layne, Jessica Lemmon, Kelly Elliott, Rachel Robinson, Kate Meader, JL Baldwin, SR Grey, BJ Harvey, Rebecca Rohman, and so many more. I couldn’t do this without you!
To my wonderful marketing team at The Rock Stars of Romance, and specifically Lisa Schilling Hintz, for helping me with both the cover reveal and release of this novel. I wouldn’t have been able to reach nearly as many people without your guidance, and I’m so eternally grateful that you gave me a chance!
To each and every reader who has given me a chance over the years, and all the new readers who’ve just discovered me. You all are the reason I publish, and I’m so grateful for your unwavering support and kindness.
To all my 10,000+ best friend Skimmies, stop distracting me with such amazing stories and nonsense! I need to be writing! But also, thank you to Mallory Paul for the Pokémon Go suggestion—it made me laugh so hard that I had to include it in the book.
To Katherine Rochelle, you matter to me.
To Katie Crawford, you are so sweet and supportive. Thank you so much for always having my back and for helping me with this book. I value our friendship so much!
To my cronies, Amanda Oliver, Stephanie Krumm O’Reilly, and Trudy Larson…fuck you, guys. *middle finger emoji* (Ps: I love you more than I love salmonella-filled cookie dough.)
To my sister, Victoria James, who just published her first novel with Harper Collins called DRINK PINK: A Celebration of Rosé Wine. You amaze me!
To my best friend, Nicole Allen, for being so brave. I’m inspired by your courage. I’m inspired by your love. You are my soul sister for life.
To my husband, Justin, for finding your smile again. I love you, and I’m glad you get to see me nude.
Keep reading for short excerpts from Sarah’s other novels, and other information!
After NUDES
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Excerpt from Not a Hero
A Standalone Bad Boy Marine Romance
Now Live!
Purchase a paperback or digital copy at the author’s website:
booksbysarahrobinson.net/my-books/not-a-hero/
Prologue
“He’s dead, Miles! He’s dead!” A familiar voice called out to him, panic thundering through his screams. “We need to go. NOW!”
Someone grabbed his arm and roughly yanked him backwards.
Deafening gunshots rang in his ears, drowning out everything else.
His feet were concrete slabs, forcing him to stare at what he’d done. Everything inside him wanted to run for cover, find safety, and forget what had happened. The concrete pushed down, the ground swallowing his feet like quicksand, dragging him down into the dusty red clay as he scrambled to free himself. Greedy and unforgiving, the dirt had his knees and kept reaching for more, and he knew without a doubt this was it.
This is how it ends, Miles thought as he grabbed at the surrounding earth pulling him into a desert grave.
This is how I am punished.
Miles Kydd shot out of his bed like it was on fire, electricity puls
ing through every nerve in his body. He swiveled around, blinking rapidly, and taking in his surroundings. He quickly realized he was not on fire, but rather, standing in his boxers in the middle of the barracks filled with rows of snoring Marines in bunk beds.
A few shifted in their cots and glanced at him through half-open eyes before rolling over and going back to sleep. The flash of understanding on their faces quickly went blank as they pretended to be oblivious.
They all know.
Miles’s face heated, and he rubbed his fists into his eyes, attempting to rid the images burned there. Raking his fingers through short, dirty blonde hair, the perspiration that coated his skin transferred to his hands. Taking a deep breath and then slowly exhaling, he wiped sweaty palms on his boxers and walked back to his cot.
Quietly, so as to avoid any more attention, he slid under the scratchy wool blanket almost eight years in the U.S. Marines had conditioned him to find comfortable.
Miles glanced to his right. A few cots over, the desert moon beaming through the windows reflected off the pale skin of Tobin’s shaved head, which was partially covered by the blankets pulled to his nose.
His best friend since childhood, Tobin Leach had enlisted with the United States Marines alongside Miles the day after their high school graduation. They had reenlisted an additional four years together, and now were only a few weeks from heading home.
Seeing him close by calmed Miles, easing the anxiety his nightmares and memories had left behind. He clenched his jaw, pushing down the sudden surge of familiar shame, a constant poison threatening to overtake him if he allowed it. He wouldn’t—Miles never lost control.