Lost in You. Sommer Marsden

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Lost in You - Sommer  Marsden


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danced.

      I shut my eyes and simply let myself be. I didn’t want to analyse this situation, I wanted to cherish it.

      He hummed softly and we rocked. It wasn’t a big shiny dance number, it was subtle. It wasn’t that flashy movie moment, it was two people holding each other and moving just a bit as a storm raged outside.

      ‘What are you humming?’ I whispered. It felt right to whisper.

      ‘You don’t recognise it?’

      I inhaled deeply and the scent of Dorian Martin filled my head. It was magical. It made me feel unhinged in the most wonderful way.

      ‘I do but I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

      ‘My mother used to play it endlessly when I was growing up. On an album, no less.’

      That made me laugh. ‘You really are ancient, right?’

      He chuckled. I felt him kiss my hair and desire, sudden and startling, hit me. I tried to remember wanting a man the way I found myself wanting this one. I couldn’t recall a single instance.

      ‘I know. Old as dirt.’ Then he turned me slowly and I could see the empty marquee over his shoulder. He hummed a bit more and then, softly, ‘Strangers in the Night …’

      I smiled. ‘Only it’s not night.’

      ‘Sounds better than strangers in the rainy afternoon.’

      ‘Strangers in a monsoon?’ I teased.

      ‘It’s actually a super-storm. Like a sci-fi movie.’

      ‘When does the octosharkogator arrive?’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ he said. Up close his eyes were a true evergreen. He watched me intently. I’d never felt more naked. Especially while utterly clothed and upright.

      ‘Oh.’ I’d run out of pithy responses.

      ‘But I know I’d better do this before it gets here.’

      We didn’t stop moving. We kept rocking gently, more of a cooperative sway than a dance, as he pushed his hands into my hair and held my head. His mouth was warm and soft and tasted of sweet red wine.

      When he kissed me, I felt something in me crumble. Some part that I had fought to hold tight to, calm and stiff against all worry and loneliness. I had my grandmother, sure, but that was all I had. I treasured her but it was no substitute for some kind of romantic attachment in my life. I didn’t need a knight in shining armour, but a person to share things with wouldn’t hurt. It was a fact I rarely let myself examine. A craving I rarely let myself surrender to.

      I kissed him back and the hunger in that kiss scared me. It was terrifying, in that moment, how my hands roamed over him and my heart beat just for him. How the sound I made was a very simple broadcast of desire. Normally I’d have been mortified, horrified, embarrassed.

      I wasn’t. I was happy right there, right then, in his arms as the weather raged on.

       Chapter Eight

      ‘Come on,’ I said. I took his hand and led him up the ramps. As he followed I could feel him studying me.

      ‘Clover. I don’t want you to think that you have –’

      I turned quickly. ‘You’re not going to imply that I think if I don’t kiss you – indulge you – whatever you want to call it … That if I don’t do that my job would be in trouble … are you?’

      He looked at his feet, a small smile curling his lips. ‘I just want you to understand that I kissed you because I wanted to. But I don’t expect … you don’t have to …’ He shook his head. ‘Damn. I’m usually pretty suave with those crazy things called words.’

      I could stand there and feel awkward or I could move. I grabbed his hand again, letting my giddiness sweep me along, and said, ‘I kissed you back because I wanted to. Now let me show you this. There are perks to nosing around a giant empty shopping structure. Not that I’m nosy.’ I coughed. But then I giggled. ‘It was all in the name of keeping your property safe.’

      ‘Of course,’ he said. I glanced at him and found him smiling at me.

      I really liked his smile.

      ‘Oh, hush. So once in a while I like to run around here like the little girl I once was.’ As soon as I said it, I stopped short.

      Dorian stopped abruptly too. ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘That doesn’t make you …’ I sighed. Why did I talk out loud? Why had I told him all that just now?

      ‘What?’

      ‘Does that make you trust me less? With this job?’

      He looked confused and then amused. ‘Good God, no. I am the nosiest person on earth. And Clover, I’d expect you to know your job. Inside and out. All the nooks and crannies.’ He touched my hand.

      ‘OK. Because I take this job seriously. I take it all seriously. It means the world to me.’

      That didn’t sound sad and lonely or anything.

      ‘I know that. And I trust you. More than just about anyone in my employ.’ He glanced up at the small green projection-room door on the very top ramp. It was marked ‘Private’ but I knew for a fact it wasn’t locked. ‘Now show me! The suspense is killing me!’

      I grinned and hurried on with Dorian Martin, rich boy extraordinaire, at my heels.

      At the top I stood still, trying to steady my heart. I wanted to kiss him again but forced the urge down and ignored it. I threw the door wide and said, ‘Tada!’

      He chuckled, flipped the lights on. ‘Wow.’

      ‘Yes, wow! Isn’t it amazing? What do you think the projectionist did up here during movies? Do you think he dressed up?’

      ‘A cross-dresser?’ He waggled his eyebrows at me.

      ‘Maybe!’ The old costumes dazzled, still hung on a long costuming rack. They had a layer of dust on them. When I visited I had fantasies about bringing a leaf-blower with me to blow the thick layer of dust off the gorgeous fabrics. Maybe a good shot of air would save the fabric, restore the costumes to their original glamour.

      ‘Why costumes?’

      ‘Originally, when they aired silent movies here and even when they had talkies, they’d have intermission and dancing girls. Girls who sold popcorn and cigarettes and candy. It’s all … it’s like a time capsule,’ I squealed.

      Dorian grabbed my forearms and kissed me.

      ‘What was that for?’

      ‘You’re so happy,’ he whispered. ‘It’s contagious.’

      I nodded and let myself just stare at him. His strong jaw and bright eyes and very, very kissable mouth. He gave me a boyish half grin and I swore I could feel my lungs deflating from the impact of that smile.

      ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I … you –’ I shook my head and grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.

      Every stroke of his tongue over mine made me warmer despite the invading damp from the storm. Every time he sucked gently on my tongue I felt a spike of heat fill my pussy. Every inch closer he moved as he kissed me greedily had me on the verge of just begging him to take me. Right then. Right there.

      I couldn’t do that, of course. He was still my boss, after all. Despite rabid attraction. Despite warm fuzzy feelings he somehow inspired.

      Finally I managed to pull back.

      He touched my hair. Wrapped two long strands around


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