The Murder in Skoghall (Illustrated) (The Skoghall Mystery Series Book 1) by Alida Winternheimer Page B

but the offer has been made and accepted.
    She set him on the end of her coffee table, facing the windows behind the couch where Shakti had curled herself in a tight ball. Jess stood behind him and began working on the knots in his shoulders. She felt them slip down as he relaxed under her touch. She moved her hands to the rounds of his shoulders, rubbing firmly. “That’s nice,” he said when her thumbs pushed into his muscles. She moved to the base of his neck and pressed her fingers into his flesh then slid them up to the base of his skull. He stiffened momentarily, then relaxed again as she kneaded the dimples where skull meets neck, mimicking the craniosacral work she had had done on herself. Tyler’s thick, wavy hair smelled like cinnamon and pepper. Jess wondered if that was a result of his cooking or if men’s shampoos were scented with spices instead of flowers. Tyler relaxed his head forward and sighed.
    Jess knelt behind him and pressed his flesh with her hands, massaging his lower back, closer to where he was in pain. “Can I move your shirt?” she asked. He hesitated again, but finally untucked his shirt and pulled it off. Jess bit her lower lip, grateful she was behind him. His smooth muscled shoulders and back were every bit as lovely as she had imagined. She placed her hands back on his shoulders and worked the hard muscles around his shoulder blades. “You have a magic touch,” he said, as she moved lower. When Jess reached the area of his suffering, she pressed his shoulders forward and he obliged, leaning over his knees. With the movement, more of his low back rose from the waistband of his jeans and Jess saw a scar that began somewhere on his left hip and curved upward as it came toward his spine, like a child had drawn a grin in red crayon. Jess was gentle with his lower back, asking repeatedly how much pressure he wanted her to use. Each time, he asked for more. Her hands ached when she finished. Jess leaned toward him to kiss his shoulder, but stopped. She settled for patting it with her hand instead.
    “Thank you,” Tyler said, swiveling on the coffee table to face her. He grasped her hands and drew her toward him. They moved to the couch. Shakti stretched her body out and pushed her paws into Jess’s back before relaxing again. Jess ignored the puppy, focusing instead on Tyler’s chest. It was even more magnificent than his back, the smooth definition of muscle appealed to her more than she would have imagined. Though her hands were tingling with fatigue, she wanted to rub his chest—first, she decided, with her hands and then with her face. He leaned toward her, their lips met, and then their tongues. Jess tasted the toothpaste on his tongue as surely as he did the red wine and garlic on hers. His hands followed her arms up to her shoulders while they kissed, then roved to her neck. Tyler’s fingers worked their way up the back of her head, twining with her soft hair. He drew her closer to him, then shifted his legs, bringing them up onto the couch. Jess laid her body atop his, all while kissing. As they took over the couch, Shakti rolled to the floor and padded off to the kitchen.
    Tyler’s hand wound up pinned to the back of the couch. His belt buckle dug into Jess’s stomach. They shifted again, this time coming apart and sitting up. They grinned at each other like school kids discovering the pleasures of the flesh for the first time. Jess had not been with a man since her husband, since before she filed for divorce. That was about a year ago, and she had not imagined the clean scent of Tyler’s skin would send her pulse racing or make her suddenly eager to feel herself pressed under the weight of someone much stronger than her, someone who could envelop her with a sense of security and the heady knowledge that he desired her. “Is this heading where I think it is?” Tyler asked. Jess nodded and took his hand. She led him upstairs.
    Jess walked backwards into the bedroom until