Welcome once again, Sixers! Got my shiny new ARCs of the print version of my romance The Reluctant Nude in the mail this week, which got me thinking about those characters again… (FYI, Max is French, hence his slightly odd dialogue.)
“When I touch you—” Max reached out his hands again, inching them forward until he touched her elbows “—you are like fireworks.” He slid his palms up, slipping them inside her T-shirt sleeves and cupping her smooth shoulders, that skin, as petal-soft as a cliché. “You are like those little sticks dipped in magnesium, that children use?”
“Sparklers,” she said, breath short.
“Your hands felt like sparklers, running up and down my body.”
“That sounds very painful," she said, faking flippancy rather poorly, in Max’s opinion.
Thanks for reading! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week!