An Excerpt From: EXPOSED MEMORIES
Copyright © SIENNA AYLEN, 2016
Emma’s stare finally found the tallest of the three and she sucked in a sharp breath. Her heart beat out a quick tempo against the fabric of her shirt. Intrigued, she took a leisurely scan of his frame from the top of his head all the way down to the scuff of his boots. Rugged, he wasn’t classically handsome. A slight tilt to his nose told her it’d been broken at least once. He also sported a day’s worth of scruff that was a few shades darker than the dirty-blond color of his hair.
Built like a mountain, he wore a black t-shirt that emphasized his biceps and chest. Paired with a dark pair of jeans that had seen better days, and rough work boots, his outfit seemed completely at home in the wilderness. He wasn’t a pretty guy by any stretch of the imagination, one who worked out just to stay fit. Filled out in all the right places, his muscles were made by hard physical labor, she would bet all her money on it.
Maybe this job wouldn’t be as monotonous as the others, especially with all the man candy hanging around. Emma mentally slapped herself. Concentrate. You have a job to do, remember? J-O-B, job.
Shaking her head, she tried to expel some of the heat that burned her cheeks. She must be going batty, loco with a side of ridiculous. Her libido had always been pretty much dead by definition. Now it was waking up as though it had simply been asleep for all those years. It had to be a fluke.
Yep, a fluke. That’s what it was. There was no other explanation.
Almost back to her normal body temperature, she turned back to the jeep and reached in for her navy duffel bag, but a giant hand almost beat her to it. Emma stretched out to slap his hand away. “Don’t! I got it.”
She put one foot against the seat for leverage. Of course the stupid thing would get stuck. It was entirely her luck. Sighing, she rubbed her hands together and gripped the strap firmly. Grunting, she gave a good hard yank, popping the bag free and propelling her backward…right into a set of thick, tanned arms.
Emma let out a breath, trying not to laugh outright at her predicament. Taking a moment to compose herself, she focused her gaze on his arms. Bronzed from the sun, they had fine white lines that curved around and under his forearms. Enticed, she wanted to follow the lines with the pads of her fingers to see where they went. If they traveled far enough up his arms, it would give her a plausible excuse to see his chest, perhaps taking a moment or two to run her hands along his pecs.
Pull it together, Emma.
She couldn’t wrench herself out of the moment, not yet. Not when his front melded along her backside, the heat from his chest seeping through their clothing to scald her skin. Damn, he was a warm one. Like a toasty heated blanket, a very muscular blanket. With a grin Emma noted that a certain portion of his anatomy was prodding her with excitement. Oblivious to the stares of the others, she lost herself for a few moments in the fantasy of rolling around in bed with the behemoth.
Wait a second, is he sniffing my hair?