Doesn't he smell good?

It's Week #24 of the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. I'm finally getting the hang of this hopping thing. I haven't double-posted by mistake for awhile. And I've remembered to include the links to the other participants. Well done, me!

In celebration of having my novel re-instated on Amazon (after its dubious disappearance over a problem with one of the words in its title) I'm going to share another slice from Cult of the Black Virgin.

This week we're posting excerpts that show a character succumbing  to what he or she finds sexy. I've been thinking about the sense of smell lately, and the role it plays in arousal.

Recently I visited my alma mater, and although many things had changed in the years since I last set foot in its halls, one thing was exactly the same--the smell. It transported me back to the past with a speed and vividness that astonished me.

I'm trying to use the evocative power of smell in my fiction, too. And I'm not talking about the smell of musty hallways, or dewy roses or sizzling steaks--I'm talking man sweat here. In this 7-paragraph passage, after Jo is seduced by the way Luc looks, speaks, behaves, her nose gets in on the action. As soon as she smells him up close and personal, she's a goner.

She's just made a phone call from a stone turret converted into a phone booth. Luc 
follows her...

Here's the excerpt:

  “Luc! What are you doing here? Do you need to use the phone?”
  “But of course. Why else do you think I would be waiting here?” His eyebrow arched and a playful smile flit across his face. He moved towards her.
  Jo grew flustered. In her silliness she assumed he’d followed her for some secret purpose of his own. It was embarrassing to have been caught off guard, projecting her own desires, although he couldn’t have known what they were.
  “Oh. Well, then. L-let me get out of your way.”
  As she tried to leave the small tower, not daring to meet his eyes, he moved towards her again, effectively blocking her exit. Then he slowly raised his arms and grabbed the sides of the stone doorway, trapping her inside.
  “Um,” she said, “what are you...?” She knew very well what he was doing. He was playing with her. She didn’t know if she found it juvenile or fun. Until she smelled him.

  Now he was literally looming over her, his long body pushing closer still, almost touching her own. The smell of his sweat aroused her instantly, intensely. Her nipples sprang to attention, rubbing against the rough lace of her bra. She became afraid, backing up a little. 

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