HER
Some part of my brain retains enough awareness to hear when the front door opens and to know that it isn’t a burglar, so the rest of me keeps writing.
I’ve spent most of the day writing. Even though he entreated me not to before he left this morning.
Well OK, I haven’t been writing all day. I have managed to shower and dress and do a load of laundry and take the bins out, and even remembered to get myself something to eat for lunch. See, fully functioning adult right here!
But honestly, I’ve been in front of my computer for more hours than is probably healthy. Good job it’s the weekend tomorrow and we have plans for a day out.
The story I’m writing has just flowed though. Characters and settings and events unfurling through my fingers and onto the screen.
I love it when that happens.
And I’m in the midst of a particularly key scene. A sexy scene. And frankly, I’m turning myself on seeing it in my mind’s eye, feeling it right through my body, as the words appear in front of me.
So when two strong, lightly tanned hands drop softly onto my shoulders and I feel him lean down to place a kiss at my temple, I’m so immersed I nearly jump out of my chair in surprise.
It doesn’t last long as I recognise his scent, his warmth behind me, feel his fingers knead gently into the stiff muscles of my...