Page 11 of True Soil-Mates

His strong fingers move upward, tangling into the waves of my hair. “Still damp?” he chuckles. “I guess you shower right after work, given what you do.”

“If I’ve been potting all day, yes. Or woodworking – the sawdust gets everywhere and I hate being itchy.”

“I like that you make things with your hands. It must be very grounding.” He releases me to pick up the plates. “I need to work on that. Carol keeps sending me links to yoga and meditation walks and stuff.”

I follow him into the kitchen with the glasses. “You know, if you walk around the block while concentrating on your breathing and let all other thoughts fall away – that counts as a meditation walk.”

He looks up from loading the dishwasher. “Really? You don’t need to…I dunno, chant or something?”

I love that he seems amused when I laugh at him. “Maybe you should actually read those articles that Carol sends you. I think she’s onto something.” My hand reaches out to skim along his shoulder blade. “You spend a lot of time hunched over your desk. I can feel it right…here.”

My firm squeeze triggers a long, shuddering exhale. “You’re right.”

I wait until we’ve cleaned the kitchen to take his hand and lead him to the couch. “Can we move this coffee table so you can sit on the floor in front of me?”

He realizes what I’m trying to do and nods. Once he’s sitting on the thick rug and I’m sitting behind him, I spread my hands across his shoulders. “I come from a long line of tight-shouldered women,” I explain, as my thumbs dig into his muscles. “Mom, Violet and Iris are all often hunched over at work. So I’ve learned how to unlock things.”

My original intent honestly had been just to relax his tight shoulders. But my body takes over from my brain, my inner thighs pinning his arms, my hands reaching forward to undo the top three buttons of his dress shirt. It’s not exactly stripping him, yet it feels intimate as my hands slide down into the back of his shirt.

His breath hitches, then he shudders as I dig my fingers in, trailing up either side of his spine. “Mmm, thank you.” His shoulders drop half an inch. “You have amazing hands, Jasmine.”

There’s something in the tone when he says my name. In the way he leans back against me, using his arms to very subtly brush against my inner thighs. It’s much warmer today, so I’m not wearing leggings. When I pulled on this short-sleeved, knee-length dress a few hours ago, I didn’t realize he would be sitting between my legs like this.

I already suspected that Alex wants me. It’s pretty clear in the way he holds me, kisses me. But now I’m beginning to see that it goes beyond that: Alexneedsme. He has no warmth in his life.

Could I be that for him? Do I want to be?

Oh heck, yes.

My thumbs run up the back of his neck, then move across the top of his shoulders, squeezing and digging and massaging. His entire body sags, like a three-day-old balloon.

“I think you really needed this.” I lean in, my breath grazing his ear. “Feels good to let go, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Alex drawls. He actuallydrawls. This crisp, buttoned-up man is finally lowering his defenses.

I shouldn’t be enjoying the strangled noises he makes when I grind two knuckles into a particularly tight spot. Shouldn’t be adoring the feeling of power surging through me from having such a huge man practically trembling under my hands.

Not to mention, it’s tricky to stop my thighs from clamping too tightly around his arms. To stop thinking about the fact that if he simply tilted his head back, it would be rubbing against my…

Oh boy. Now it’s my turn to shudder.

Alex turns halfway around, looking up at me with a dreamy look in his eyes. Wait… No, he’s not blissed out. He’s as aroused as I am.

“Jasmine.” There’s a dark edge in his voice. “That felt so good. May I massage you, now?”

“Sure.”

His dark eyes blaze as he turns, the palms of his hands on my knees. He studies me carefully, as if I were one of his experiments. His hands slowly move up my inner thighs beneath my skirt. His fingertips play with the edge of my panties. “Your shoulders look fine to me. I’d really love to massage you somewhere else.”

I’m already nodding. Anything that puts that sort of gleam in his eyes, that saucy tilt on his lips, I am definitely on board. Especially when I stare open-mouthed at his chest. If there was a contest for sexy men who look like a lumberjack and act like a sweet nerd, Alex would be going home with first prize.

He pulls me gently, nudging my legs together so he can slowly slide my panties off. Then he hitches up my dress at the bottom and pulls the top down to admire my breasts. “Luscious,” he mutters, half to himself. “So beautiful.”

Before I can think of what to say, his hands stroke up my hips, pulling me down closer to the edge of the couch. I’ve never had anyone spread my thighs and stare into my pussy before. It’s kind of unnerving. But then he smiles. “Gorgeous.”

Tingles zip through my entire body as he squeezes my hips, getting me in the perfect position before leaning forward. I feel surrounded by his heat, his faint pine soap scent, that dark rumbling grunt. His long arm reaches out, sliding a hand behind my shoulders to support me as we lean close together, our mouths meeting in an explosion of fireworks.

I’m dissolving. Like I’m high on his energy and about to float away.

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