“That’s what they all say, but you’d be surprised how much nature allows for—”

She squeaked. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it! Although, um, congratulations? And it’s not nearly as purple as I’d thought.”

She followed this bit of insight with a giggle. Harrison wasn’t a vain man, but hearing a woman giggle while he was naked and about to fuck her wasn’t his customary response.

It was Sophie’s response though, and he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Scoot over, you provoking brat. I’m coming in there to make you regret your insolence.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that. Make me regret it. Make me regret it so hard.”

She’d been correct in assuming that the two of them in a single sleeping bag would be a tight mishmash of body parts, requiring plenty of shifting and tugging and laughter. What she hadn’t realized, however, was that once he was in and the length of her naked body was pressed against his in a perfect fit, nothing else mattered. She was impossibly soft, her limbs sliding up and down his in a way that made him ache to be inside her. And he would too, but not before he took her face in his hands and kissed her—long and slow, savoring the way she squirmed and moaned with each slide of his tongue along hers.

She was a body in constant motion, a woman full of vitality and joy. And he wasn’t going to lie—the wet, searing heat of her as she wrapped first one and then the other leg around him was more temptation than any flesh-and-blood man could bear.

Before he penetrated her, however, he halted his wandering inspection of all her soft and slippery parts to cup her face. The two of them were perfectly immobile inside the sleeping bag, the only movement the rapid beat of her heart against his chest and her quick, panting breaths.

“I like you, Sophie,” he said. It was both everything and nothing and somehow the only thing he could think of to say.

A smile curved her lips, almost as though she could read his thoughts and see what he really meant. She proved it by her next words. “I know you do. It was inevitable. I warned you, remember? I’m like a goiter. A heaving, podgy pustule that grows out of your—”

Which was why he was laughing when he finally entered her. There wasn’t much in the way of room to navigate the mechanics of bam-bam, crank-crank, but some things didn’t require a ton of finesse.