Inventing Herself by Sommer Marsden Page B

he’d simply opened his parka a bit. Now he pulled it off and revealed an enticing figure to go with the rest of his looks. His body was cut and lean, but not pumped up like he spent hours in the gym doing reps and gazing at himself in a floor to ceiling mirror. This was a body that came from life. Hiking and maybe climbing and just being active.
    Her fingers itched to run up and down the almost visible ladder of his belly muscles. The Henley he wore clung to him just enough – thank you, static electricity – for her to make out how toned he was.
    He caught her looking, gave her a half smile.
    She blushed and looked away, taking off her own coat. ‘Can I get you something? Food? Water? Juice?’
    When she turned back he’d moved in closer. He put his hands on her upper arms and she had just a heartbeat where she wondered if she’d misjudged him. But his grip was soft enough that she knew she could break free if she needed to – or, really, she knew he’d let her go.
    ‘Do it,’ he said.
    Sophie blinked, unsure of what he meant. The fact that there was barely a six-inch space between them and she could feel his energy slinking up against hers wasn’t helping.
    ‘Do what?’
    ‘Whatever it is you’ve wanted to do since getting this assignment. It’s weighing on you. So what is it? What do you want to let out?’
    She cocked her head and studied him. She meant to laugh, she really did. Laugh and blow it off. Instead, she put her head back, face to the ceiling, opened her mouth and yelled. A long, loud, primal whoop that ricocheted off the ceilings like a restless wraith.
    She didn’t stop until her lungs felt fit to explode and her throat felt scratchy. But her body felt looser and empty and supple again. Her soul didn’t feel as anxious and clogged. She felt lighter. Better. Like all her nerve endings had woken up and were buzzing with activity. Or maybe part of that was the fact his hands were still on her.
    ‘Now you,’ she said, not making any move to step back from him. She was perfectly content to be this close. To have his hands on her and to be staring into those shocking blue eyes.
    ‘Me what?’ His lips twisted into a smile.
    ‘You do something you’ve wanted to do.’
    She had no idea why she said it, but she was sure glad she had when he closed the gap between them by stepping closer and framing her face in his hands. At first, he kissed her so softly it was mesmerising. Without realising it, she started to hum as if she were one of those singing bowls and he’d struck just the right chord by kissing her.
    He dragged his tongue along her lower lip. ‘You know that’s a good sign, right?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘The humming. It means –’
    ‘I’m nuts?’ she interrupted. Her hands settled on his trim hips and she wished he’d just stop talking and kiss her again.
    ‘No. It means we’re resonating.’ Then he did shut up and kiss her again, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head to steady her. His tongue penetrating more aggressively, stroking against hers, taking her mouth in a more demanding kiss.
    She felt her knees go watery and was grateful that he was kind of actually holding her up.
    His free hand gripped her wrist and she jumped. The sensation of his skin on her skin, right above her pulse point, was electric in a nearly staggering way. It startled her how much of a tingle and a buzz could come from a single touch.
    He took it as uncertainty and broke the kiss. ‘I’m sorry. I can –’
    ‘Stop, stop,’ she said, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him.
    ‘I did stop,’ he said quite sincerely.
    ‘No, I mean, stop thinking bad things. Keep going. Kiss me.’
    His eyes were on her. So close she felt naked already. She was going to sleep with him. There was no doubt in her mind. Not a bit. Right or wrong, it was happening.
    ‘Please,’ she added.
    Then he took both her wrists in his big hand. Her body jolted and pleasure met with lust to wind through her belly, her