Friday, September 27, 2013

The Forbidden Kiss

Book Title: Room 408
Author: M. Andrew Patterson


Before I can raise my hand to knock, the door swings open.  The ring tumbles to floor, forgotten.  He’s standing there, shirt undone, exposing his smooth, hard, chest.  My hungry eyes rove over his body.  His lips quirk in a knowing smile and I want to melt into him and taste their soft perfection.  The fire burning in the pit of my stomach roars to an inferno when I look into his brown eyes, so dark they are almost black.  They are like dark obsidian pools, both frightening and inviting at the same time.  I could lose my soul in those eyes and love each moment of it, all the while begging for more.

My breath stutters and my heart lurches in my chest.  His body beckons and I am a slave to my desire.  My steps are slow and unsteady, my eyes drowning in his, as I enter the den of my ruin.  His strong arms draw me close, his luscious lips a hairsbreadth from mine.  I don’t even notice the door closing behind me.  His eyes, his lips, his body pressed against mine are all that I want.
I ache to caress his lips with mine, to let his tongue explore me, but as I move forward, he moves back, teasing.  His breath warms my lips and my tongue runs along their trembling surface wanting, desiring.  I want to run my hands through his hair and shove my tongue down his throat, but still he teases me.  He wants me to beg.  I want to beg for release.  I’m about to explode into a million pieces with desire.

It’s a game; I move forward, and he draws me further into his domain, always tempting, yet no release.  I moan in desperation.  His laugh is dark and smoky and the sound of it makes my knees buckle.  His arms tighten around me, holding me tight.  His lips brush mine.  The tip of his tongue tastes my lips and I shudder.

His mouth captures mine and my soul explodes.  Tremors cascade over my body as his tongue explores my mouth, twining with my tongue, teasing, tasting.  I melt into his mouth and moan.  My hands frantically claw at his shirt, my nails scratching the perfection of his chest.


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Thursday, September 26, 2013

This Is What A Kiss Is

Book Title: (WIP)
Author: Jenny Kaczorowski
Heat: <3 Sweet <3

Watch for the bold text. That's my doing, not Jenny's. Her words are beautiful, and if you learn anything from this blog, that bold text is what it should be.


We’re the last ones awake - Josiah and me. Everyone else has drifted into bedrooms or up to the loft. Rachael’s dad went to bed ages ago, somehow trusting a bunch of teenagers to not do anything stupid. I’m pretty sure there’s more sex happening in this house than most college dorms.

But here, in the den, it’s just me and Josie and the crackle-whisper-rush of the fire roaring in the hearth. My legs tangle with his, a blanket caught up in our inside jokes and private memories.

“Thank you,” I say, touching his hand.

“For what?” He squeezes my fingers.

“Letting me forget.” I drop my head against his shoulder. There’s this hollow spot against his chest that cradles my head. Perfectly.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he says. “Right?”

I do, but something in his voice isn’t right. “Hey, nobody has died. Yet. I mean, you look so sad.”

This time the top right part of his lips curls into a smile, but nothing more. “I’m going to change everything with one word. One stupid, nonsensical word.”

I stand in front of him and hold out my hand. “Lets go to bed. We can talk about words tomorrow.”

“Why are you avoiding this?” He rises, but without touching my hand. He’s so tall in the shifting firelight. His presence is everywhere, in everything. It’s the air in my lungs and the cold creeping through my socks.

“Because I don’t want anything to change.” I want to dodge around him and run for the stairs, anything except listen to Josie ruin the one thing I’m sure of: us.

“I have to.” He’s even closer, trapping me between the heat of his body and the heat of the fire. “I’m tired of lying. To myself and especially to you.”

My throat aches, too raw and too dry. “Please.”

“I love you, Addy."

I think my jaw hits the floor. My shoulders sag and I step back to catch myself. Very graceful, romantic stuff. Exactly how I’m sure Josie pictured it when -


I flick my eyes up to the hope and anguish and resignation hovering around him.

“I just think you should know that.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

I lift my head to face him.

Josie looks at me and it’s the look I always wanted from Shawn. It’s a gaze that sees me, drinks me in like I am the only air he’ll ever need. Like I’m a treasure.

His thumb sweeps across my bottom lip on it’s way to my cheek. The fire and ice it leaves in its wake scares me, but not nearly as much as whatever is boiling inside me.

“I don’t understand,” is all I can get out.

A smile creeps across his lips and I can’t look away. I can’t tear my eyes away from his mouth.

“Don’t you?” His long fingers works their way through my hair, coming together at the back of my head. He tips my head back.

I do understand.

“How long...?”

He bends until his forehead grazes mine. “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know? This is huge and life changing and...” I’m panicking because if he doesn’t kiss me, I’ll die and if he does kiss me, I’m ruining that special thing I’ve only ever had with Josie and why does he smell so freaking good?

He moves to speak into my ear. Not a whisper, but a hushed, reverent church voice. “I don’t think you wake up one day in love,” he says. “I think you wake up and realize that thing you’ve felt for a long time is called love.”

The panic burst into a zillion butterflies, all scrambling to escape my stomach and soar, taking my heart with them.

Because now I know.

I press up on my toes, gathering Josie’s shirt into my fists.

A moan escapes me the moment our lips meet. This is what a kiss is, this feeling of our lips and tongues and bodies anticipating and dancing and leading and following. It’s a fencing bout, a waltz, a synchronized swim. For every movement, every subtle shift I make, he matches with his own.

I’m lost.

His hands slip from my hair, down my back, pressing me against him. As if I could be any closer. As if he could press us together and we’d never have to inhabit our own, solitary bodies again.

There’s something wild inside me, fighting to get out. My fingers turn to claws, tearing at his hair, scrambling for more.

His hands slide down to my legs and I hoist myself up, locking my legs around his waist. We tumble backwards onto the couch and he’s on top of me and he’s all I want. All I’ve ever wanted.

I have his shirt off before I know what I’m doing and then I stop.

Because under his scrawny, nerdy exterior, Josie is ripped.

My fingertips trace the lines carved into his stomach and I have to fight a giggle. Josie, my Josie, has a six-pack.

He looks bewildered. Mussed. His glasses are askew and his hair is on end. His lips - his beautiful, soft, tasty lips - are parted.

I sit up to meet him and slide his glasses off his nose, setting them on the coffee table.

“I love you too,” I whisper, leaning into him.

“Addy.” His hands are on the bare skin of my back, his thumbs making circles against my ribs. How does Josie know how to touch me like this?


He laughs, the air vibrating in his chest. A soft, low chuckle. Music to my soul. “We don’t have to do everything tonight.”

I giggle because this conversation is ridiculously easy.


Thoughts? I love this one... tell us what you think below!


Wednesday, September 25, 2013

The Forbidden Kiss

(Also known as the "Oh you totes don't want to break up. You love me. Awesome!" Kiss.)

Book Title: NEVER, NEVER
Author: Brianna Shrum
Heat: Steamy


Tiger Lily looked directly at him, and he thought what he saw in her eyes was guilt. Panic overtook him. This was it. She had come to end it for good. His throat constricted.

“James, I-”

“Don’t say it,” he said hoarsely, unwilling to hear what he knew she would tell him in moments. “Please, don’t.”

A better man could have handled it. A stronger man would have heard her out and sent her away and slept off the pain, or drunk it off. Clearly, he was neither better nor stronger. With the girl in the room, he was nothing but vulnerable and raw. He hated it at this moment, more than ever.

“James,” she said, taking a step toward him.

James turned away from her. He was fully aware that his actions were those of a child. But the pulse pounding dangerously in his throat and the sweat breaking out all over him made it impossible for him to react in any other way.

“Please, James, just-”

“No,” he pleaded, “Pease, don’t even tell me. I cannot hear it from you. “

Tiger Lily made a sound of exasperation and forced her way in front of him.

“You fool pirate,” she said, and she grabbed his head and kissed him. The feel of her mouth took his breath away and at first, he didn’t even kiss her back, he was in such shock. But, he quickly came to his senses and kissed her with everything in him.

Tiger Lily pulled away for a moment. “What did you think I’d come to say?”

His voice was husky. “I thought you’d come to tell me you were leaving me.”

“I’ve made my choice, James Hook.”

“Have you?”

“I cannot spend my life loving a…a child”

James’ pulse quickened.

“And can you spend it loving a pirate?”

Tiger Lily stared up at him. Both of them were frozen, it seemed, heavy breath the only sound in the room. But Tiger Lily broke the spell. She brought his mouth to hers, and James encircled her body with his powerful arms, forgetting about the blanket, letting it fall to the floor. He breathed into her, a low, guttural groan that came from the depths of him, and he let go of all the passion he’d been restraining for so long.

He pressed his chest hard against her and pushed her into the cabin wall, and she gasped. James tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her over and over, deeper and with more longing than he’d ever done. The touch of her was exquisite, overwhelming. He was reluctant to pull back from her lips, but he had a greater need to explore the rest of her.


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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

The Intense-to-Hilarious Kiss

Book Title: (WIP)
Author: Jenny Kaczorowski
Heat: Flirty


“Go fish.” She rested her head against his shoulder and tilted her eyes to watch his. The smile that extended beyond his lips curved his cheek, rearranging the landscape of his face.

He picked up a card and slid it into his hand without meeting her gaze. “Your turn.”

“Do you have any hearts?”

Now his eyes swept to hers and held her still. “You already took my heart.” There was no levity. No room for the words to sound as cornball as they should. “Two turns ago.”

“Oh. Right.” She lifted her head and shifted away from him. “I guess I’ll take a card.”

“That is how the game works.”

Her cheeks felt hotter than a sunburn. “Right. I just.” She made the mistake of looking up. “I thought for a second you didn’t mean the cards.” Her voice barely squeaked out, but she could hold it back either.

“I didn’t.”

“Bastian.” His name came out laced with pleading, but she wasn’t sure what for.

“I’m here as a friend,” he said. “And I will leave as a friend, but you should know you have me in your hands.”

“Bastian, I’m not who you want me to be.”

“Because of your past? Your reputation? I thought we were past that.”

“Because I am not a good person.”

He set down his cards and shifted. “There are no good people, only broken people trying to do the right thing.”

“What about you? You’re the best person I know.”

He leaned further into her, his body pressed to hers. “You have no idea what kind of terrible thoughts I’m thinking right now.” The hungry sparkle in his eyes more than his words kicked her heart into hyperdrive.

He kissed her or she kissed him. Either way, one minute they were staring each other down and the next their lips were pressed together. It’s took a second, a quick repositioning, to take the hard, awkward smash of over-eager lips and transform into something soft and subtle and oh, sweet sunshine, what did he just do with his tongue?

Summer lost her balance and clutched his shirt, bringing him with her onto the lush carpet.

He was stronger than she expected, more agile. His hands moved along her arms, bringing them up above her shoulders and knotting his fingers in hers.

In some other world, a boy pinning her down was something to fear, to fight, but the warmth and weight of him, pressed belly to belly, hip to hip, mouth to mouth, is nothing more or less than freedom.

He kissed her sweet and slow and deliberate, like he was systematically erasing every other boy from her lips and her mind and her heart.

Oh, her heart. It beat against her chest, against his, in the veins in her neck, and in her fingertips.

And her tongue tingled with peppermint. Everything about him was clean and fresh and just the right amount of rough. The slightest shadow of scruff brushed her cheek, the touch so light it set off fireworks in her brain and a soft cry of delight broke free, muffled by his mouth.

“Are you that ticklish?” he whispered too close to her skin.

“I’m not.” Her breathing hitched in an unreasonable rhythm.

His cheek brushed hers again, a bazillion nerve endings firing at once.

“Not.” She had to squeeze her eyes shut and teased her body to hold back the twitching.

He popped up to look at her. “Liar.” He released her hands and caught her around her middle, fingers tickling up and down her bare skin.

She laughed so hard it hurt, rocking and rolling and half-heartedly pushing him. Her elbow collided with his face and he jerked away.

“Oww!” He held his hands to his face, glasses askew. A drop of blood slipped through his fingers and landed on her shirt.

“Shit.” Her eyes went wide. “Shit. Sorry. What do I do? What do you do?”

“It’s fine.” His hands muffled his voice. “It’ll stop in a few minutes.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

He shrugged. “I’ll need an infusion of clotting factor.”


He laughed, disentangling himself. “You should see your face.”

“You could bleed out on me or something, right?”

“It’s better if I stay calm.” He stumbled toward the kitchen and grabbed a damp washcloth to hold to his nose.


What do you think? Did it make you smile? Laugh? share your thoughts below!


Monday, September 23, 2013

The Last-Minute-Goodbye Kiss

Book Title: FATHOM
Author: Hero London
Heat: <3 Sweet <3

Calder and Olivia have gone through over two-hundred pages of hate and awkwardness to get to this point, and the simplicity of this kiss is perfect for them.


I stood, biting my lip, unsure what to do about this goodbye. He did a half-smile and reached out to pull me in. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on longer than I had with any of the others.

“Please stay in touch,” I said into his ear.

“I promise.”

I kissed his cheek, quick and soft so the others wouldn’t see. As I released him, my cheeks grew warm. While Walter, Uther, and Eamon filed out of the house, Calder hugged me again.

“If I hadn’t been so stupid…” he said.

“It’s okay. You’d better go, they’re waiting for you.”

His eyes searched my face. Just do it, I kept thinking, just go for it. I wanted to yank him toward me. I wanted a real goodbye… but he stepped back and turned to go, his eyes lingering on me for a moment. Then The Scotsman walked up the path to where the Irishman, the German, and the South African were waiting.

Samantha would be furious at me when she found out. Not as furious as I was with myself though. I closed the door with regret and went to go to my room. I hadn’t taken more than two steps when the door flew open. I whirled around.

“Calder, what—”

In two long strides, he was there, holding my face in both hands, and his lips were on mine. I drew my arms around his neck and kissed him back, breathed him in, and held him tight as his arms wound around my waist. I don’t know how long we stood there. Not long enough. When our lips parted, we remained in our firm embrace, forehead against forehead, his breathing quick and earnest.

Then, sooner than I wanted, his hold on me loosened. His hand touched my cheek. He kissed my brow.

“I’ll call as soon as I can,” he whispered. I nodded. He let me go. His desire to stay was deep in his eyes. But he all too soon he was out the door again and didn’t come back.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Ferris-Wheel Kiss

Book Title: EVER
Title: Jessa Russo
Heat: Flirty

This scene is from EVER, the first book of The EVER Trilogy, re-released today! Check it out on Goodreads! This kiss is not just Ever’s first with Toby, but because she’s been in love with her dead best friend for so long, this is her very first kiss period.


The sun was gone from the horizon, but I could make out most of the coastline's twinkling lights, so since we were delayed for the time being as people boarded the ride below us, I took the chance to point out a few landmarks along the coast.

He took the chance to lean in toward me.

I was mid-sentence, pointing something out to him, when I froze, realizing what he was doing. I inhaled a quick breath as my heart rate increased once again. Holy shit. He leaned over and lightly brushed his thumb against my lips, sending tingles through my entire face. His other hand still held my hand between us, and I hoped it wasn't sweating profusely.

My mouth was open—both from the shock of his touch and the fact that I had been talking just seconds ago—and I quickly shut it, swallowing loudly, and hoping that he couldn't tell how nervous I was. Or how incredibly excited I was by the prospect of my very first kiss.

Oh god. What if I'm bad?

My heart raced in anticipation and fear, and the butterflies in my stomach moved from light fluttering to somersaults and back flips. My entire body seemed filled with sensations totally foreign to me. Feelings and worries I'd never experienced.

He licked his lips, leaned in further, and kissed me. He was a bit hesitant at first, kissing me slowly and gently, making sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

I closed my eyes and leaned in to him, my lips parting just a bit, mimicking his, and following his lead. It felt both strange and exciting to kiss him, our tongues slightly touching, and his lips moving around mine. He kissed me delicately and each change in the movement of his lips sent intense shivers down my spine. Warmth built deep in my belly, and I feared I might laugh from the nervous excitement of it all.

After a moment that was far too short, the Ferris wheel began its descent, and Toby pulled away to look at me with those velvety blue-black eyes. I couldn't help the smile that pulled fiercely at my lips.

He smiled, and this time I was sure he could hear my heart beating. How could he not? I sure could. It thumped away rapidly in my ears, deafening in its excitement.


Wheeee! What did you think? Let us know below, and go check out EVER by Jessa Russo!


Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Enemies-to-Lovers Kiss

Author: Brianna Shrum
Heat: Brianna says Steamy, I say HOT.

What do you think?


The little blade is pressed against my throat; my pulse pounds hard against the steel. I question, for a moment, if I really could twist my way out of her grasp. How such a small person can have such power in her, I do not know.

“You tried to kill my father,” she says, and her voice is quiet and trembling.

I inhale slowly, and breathe, “Yes.”

She trembles more violently, and I close my eyes for an instant, willing myself to focus on the weapon at my neck, and not the feel of her legs shaking against mine.

“And you will try again, if I let you live.”

I stare at her, unblinking, unapologetic. “Yes.”

She is breathing rapidly, color pouring into her skin, and the knife presses harder into my throat, and then softer. I feel her hand at my chest, nails digging into my skin, pushing me roughly against the smooth bark of the tree at my back.

I glance down at her fingertips. “What is it that they say? You do not touch a man unless you are killing him, or making love to him?”

She swallows hard, and follows my gaze to her hand. Surprise registers in her eyes when she sees it there.

“Which will it be, Sakura?” I say, voice gravelly and low. She hesitates, and in a flash, her weapon is in my hand. Her pupils darken and she takes a step backward. I close the distance between us, barely able to think anything that is not wicked. Her mouth is just barely parted, and a muscle jerks in my jaw. I want, more than anything, to know what she tastes like.

Without breaking her gaze, I throw the weapon to the ground, and touch her waist with the tips of my fingers. She inhales sharply, but does not back away. So I press my fingers closer into her and slide my hands around to her lower back. The obi is in my fingers, and I untie it, letting it glide to the ground. Her kimono falls just barely open, and my mouth goes dry.

Her hand is still on my chest, shaking, light, and I take a step toward her. She doesn’t move, so her hand is firm against me now, my heartbeat pounding to the rhythm of the pulse in her wrist.

“Katsu-” she says, and the tiniest glimpse of her tongue pushes me over the edge. I cover her mouth with mine and spin her around til it is her back pressed against the wood of the cherry tree. She makes a high pitched little noise, and presses her other hand to my chest, and I kiss her deeper, harder, greedy. And the shift is small, but it is there. One second, her hands are pushing, and the next, they are pulling me into her. I lose control completely, thoughts jumbling together. The sweet taste of her tongue, the feel of her lips, the heat where her kimono has fallen open and her collarbone is touching my chest. She shifts, and her hips roll just slightly against mine. Fire. I let out a low growl.

She draws my mouth further into hers, and I relish it. My fingers glide across her back, her waist, and then, lower. She gasps my name, and I groan, needing to feel all of her. She says it again, Katsu, but there is tension in her voice, and I slowly pull my face back from hers.

She is breathless, eyes wide and dark and hungry. The thought of her wanting me, and she does, strips the rationale from me once more. But, before I can pin her again, she slides out from the tree. I stare after her, unable to speak. She looks out through the woods, away from me, then patters away, leaving me alone in the cherry grove.


*fans self* Wooo. What did you think, guys? Let us know!


Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Make-up Kiss

Book Title: Hate Jacket
Author: M. Andrew Patterson
Heat: Steamy

(I'm told this was meant to be a big fight between these two, but turned out this way instead. I approve, Andrew. I approve.)


“I’m sorry,” I say touching her cheek gently.

She presses her face into my hand as tears fall onto my fingers.

“Don’t be sorry,” she says sadly. “Please, don’t be sorry.”

My feet move and suddenly I’m inches from her. Her lips part slightly and the vein in her throat jumps under her skin with each beat of her heart. I entwine my fingers with hers as I put my arm around her waist, drawing her closer to me. Her tongue darts across her lips and I can’t stop myself. I capture her lips with mine. She shudders and presses into me as our lips match rhythm.

I pull her even closer as I lose myself in the kiss. Everything fades away except for her, her lips, her body pressed against mine. The chill air evaporates before our passion. We come up for air and the world crashes back in. My heart is hammering against my ribs. I lean my forehead against hers as I fight to steady my breathing.

I move my head and bury my face in her hair and neck. Her arms tighten around me as I breathe in the smell of her skin and hair, lilac mixed with lavender soap. My lips lightly graze her neck and she shudders, pressing her body even closer. I lightly kiss her neck, moving my lips under her jaw to behind her ear. She moans softly and grips the back of my neck guiding my head to her collar bone.

I lightly nip at her soft skin as I move my mouth back up to hers. Our kisses become fiercer. Her mouth opens and I plunge my tongue in, tasting and exploring her mouth. She moans as I move my hands to her waist and I tug at her shirt. I want to run my hands over her, feel the warmth of her skin. I realize we are still standing on the porch before the thought is consumed as my hand touches the bare skin on her back. Goosebumps spread across her back as the cold autumn air caresses her skin. She shivers and moans into my mouth, her hands tugging at my shirt, frantic and desperate.


Wooooo. What did you think??


Tuesday, August 20, 2013

The Adventure Kiss

Book Title: Nothing But Sky
Author: Amy Trueblood
Heat: Steamy


"You're still shaking." He pulls me close again and his chest quakes too.

"So are you," I reply.

"It was the gunfire. For a moment I was back on an open field in France, taking cover under a table like it was a bunker." His voice wobbles for a moment before he takes a deep breath.

"What brought you back?" I ask.

"You. I saw your shoes and knew you were in the middle of it all. I couldn't," he stumbles over his words. "Let you get hurt."

"Thank you. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't gotten me out of there."

He chuckles. "Everything is an adventure with you, Grace." He places a kiss on top of my head. His lips move to my ear and then to my neck. I shiver again, but this time it's not from the cold. A white hot heat moves through me and I circle him in closer, desperate for the taste of his mouth. My hands slide along his cheeks and over the black and blue tinge below his eye. He flinches and I stand on tip toe and gently press a kiss to the mark.  A mark he got because of me.

I pull back, and his eyes go wild before his mouth finds mine. At first the kisses are slow and sweet. The movement of his lips a slight press against mine. But as our hearts pound in the same rhythm, his hands move to the small of my back, tightening the fabric of my dress in a fist.

All I want is to have him closer. Taste his skin and breathe in his scent. My lips move to the hollow of his throat before easing down along the rough edge of his collarbone. A small groan escapes his lips and then his hands are in my hair. His lips search for every available inch of skin, and I'm lost in his strength and my need to have him discover everything I've hidden for years. We stumble back into the brick wall behind us and melt into each other, each and every kiss not being enough.

I was so worried I wouldn't know where to put my hands, or how to move when Henry finally kissed me, but with him I don't have to think. My body automatically acts and I follow along. As we cling to each other, approaching sirens echo behind us and Henry pulls away.

A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he intertwines his fingers with mine. "Like I said Grace, always an adventure."


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Monday, August 19, 2013

The After-a-Near-Fight Kiss

Book Title: (WIP)
Author: Jenny Kaczorowski
Heat: Flirty


“Shit.” Bastian said, finding his tongue again. He stooped to pick up his camera. “Are you okay?”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“That those guys were a lot bigger than you?”

“Bas, you can’t fight. I’d punch you myself if it wouldn’t kill you!”

His eyes twinkled. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m serious. Those guys were twice your size.”

He stopped and very deliberately picked up her skate board.“And they had you. Did you really want me to sit on my hands while they hurt you?”

She accepted the board, falling into step as he stomped back to the parking lot.

“Did you get the shots you need?” she asked.

“Kinda lost the moment.”

“Stop. Bastian. Wait.”

He set his camera down on a bench and turned around.“If those guys had hurt you, I would have hurt them back.”

She lowered the board to the ground. “I can handle myself.”

“Damn it, Summer. Don’t you get it?”

She shook her head back, then forth.

He moved forward, pinning her against the side of a car. She let her board slide to the ground.

“You’re not the only person who cares about you any more,” he said. He was stronger than he looked, more sure. He slid one hand around her waist and when she didn’t stop him, didn’t discourage him, he bent his head, millimeter by millimeter.

The fading sun bathed him in gold, the sunset shinning in his eyes. His hair brushed her cheek, his breath her neck.

Her legs trembled, adrenaline rising and falling and heart rate pounding and –

“Oh, God. They could have hurt me.” She clutched his shirt, knotting it in her fists. “Bastian, they could have hurt me.”

“Shhh.” He touched her arms, her cheeks. He didn’t offer petty words.

Instead, he kissed her.

Slow, deep, measured and practiced and sure, he kissed her.

Lips soft and strong at once. The cool tingle of mint on her tongue. His hands cupping her face and drawing her in.

She let him ease away, let him end the moment.

“I haven’t been kissed in a long time,” she said.

“I can kiss you again if you need a reminder.”

She let a smile twitch at her lips. “I use my body to get what I want. I kiss boys to control them, make them get me drinks or wax my board or let me sleep on their couches. I’ve kissed a lot of boys but I haven’t been kissed.”

“Oh, Summer.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, the tip if her nose, her neck. “You deserve to be kissed.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.” She pressed her palm to his chest. “Nice boys don’t fall for girls like me.”

“Maybe I’m not a nice boy.”

She slid his glasses off. “You’re so beyond nice.”

“You can’t scare me away with stories about other boys.”

“I heard what my mom told you.” She lowered her eyes, fixating on his Adam’s apple instead of his eyes.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Six months ago...” She swallowed. “I would have gone with those boys and drank until I didn’t know who I was kissing.”

“Six months ago I was pining over Abby Harris.”

She giggled. Legit giggled. Like a silly girl. “Who says pining?”

“Apparently nice, naive, myopic boys who are hopelessly dependent on you to give their glasses back.”

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” She leaned closer, captivated by the thick, straight cluster of lashes framing his almond shaped eyes.

“Not unless my sisters put it on while I was sleeping. Which could happen I suppose.”

“Your eyes are amazing.” She touched two fingers to his brow bone. “Isn’t Vega a Spanish name?”

“My dad’s family is from Argentina.”

“But your eyes look almost Asian.”

A small smile curled his lips. “No one has ever noticed. My mom’s family is Mongolian.”

“That is so cool. My family's white as all get out.”

He leaned closer, pressing his body into hers, hips to hips. “Do you really want to talk about our families?” His lips nearly touched hers. “I can’t see a thing beyond your face and all I want to do is kiss you until you can’t see anything but mine.”

She tightened her fingers in his hair. “I don’t think I can.” She slowly released the air from her lungs. “And that scares me.”

He kissed the side of her mouth. “Don’t you like to be scared?” He moved to the other side. “The adrenaline rush?” Teased her bottom lip. “The feeling of invincibility? Isn’t that why you surf?”

She caught his face between her hands, holding him still, then pressed her lips to his. But her control only lasted a moment before she softened into the caress of his fingers along her spine and the warmth and softness of his mouth, like he was taking in her hard, jagged edges and breathing them out on the cooling night air.

“Sebastian Vega,” she whispered. “You could destroy me.”


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Friday, August 16, 2013

The Proposal Kiss

Book Title: TARGET
Author: Darci Cole
Heat: <3 Sweet <3


His chest collapsed inside him. This was the second time she’d broken his heart. “But why? I thought you,” his voice trailed off.

“So did I,” she whispered.


She threw down her pack and glared at him. “I was going to stay. But if what happened in there was any indication of how you live here, I don’t think I can.”

“What happened?” He paused. “You mean those girls? Robyn, they’re the reason I left!”

“Well they’re the reason I’m leaving too,” she said, reaching for her pack.

“No, no no no.” He stopped her. She didn’t fight him. He took her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes as fear gripped his heart. “You listen to me, and you listen well. I would fall apart without you.”

“Lex, can’t I do more good out there? Out among the people, like I have been? And you could have your pick of so many beautiful women in there. Women with peaceful lives, women you can easily trust. Wouldn’t that be much simpler for you?”

He shrugged. “Well, yes,” he answered.

Her eyes went wide and cold. “Then I’ll be going.” She moved for her bag again, but he held her still.

“Robyn,” he said in a breath, “I don’t want to pick from any one of them. I never wanted simple, I never wanted easy. It took more time to gain your trust than I ever thought I would spend on any woman, but you are so very worth it. Every second, and I wouldn’t change a thing. You,” he paused, laughing softly at himself. “You are the most wanted outlaw in the kingdom. Wanted by me.” He ran a finger down her cheek, and across her scar, to her lips. “You’re mad, frustrating, crazy, and brilliant, and I want every bit of you. And doing good? You’ve done so much already, but think of the good you can do from here! I mean if….” He left the statement unfinished, though he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Her face scrunched up in confusion. “If what?”

Suddenly the thing he’d been so excited to say terrified him. “Robyn, more than anything in the world, I want you here in my arms.” He wound a hand around her waist and pulled her to him.

Her eyes went wide, and he worried for a split second if he was being too forward. But he couldn’t stop now.

“I want nothing more than to kiss you until my last breath. I want you to be mine, and mine alone, and I will be yours.” He put his hand to her face and ran a thumb across her cheek. Her eyes were focused on him. His voice was thick with emotion. “I love you, Lady Robyn. Please stay. Not just here at the palace. Stay with me. Robyn, will you be my wife?”

Her eyes went wide and her mouth made an “O” shape.

A crooked smile lifted on his face. “You’re surprised. Was this unexpected?”

She blinked.

He cleared his throat and suddenly their close proximity felt awkward. “You don’t have to answer right now, of course. I’ll understand if you —”


He stared at her. “Yes?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“YES!” He shouted, picking her up and spinning around. When he set her down, their lips found each other. He’d always been nervous about kissing, and he was sure he did it wrong, but she pressed her mouth to his with such force he didn’t care. He felt her arms wrap around his neck, and he wound his around her waist, pulling her closer and tighter to him. He would never let her go.

Their lips parted and they leaned their foreheads against each other.

“You said yes,” he whispered.

She laughed. “I did.”

“I can’t believe it.” He pulled her close and kissed her again. This time gently. She tasted like sweet wine, and he wanted to drink forever. Her lips were so soft against his; he’d never realized before how fragile she was. Without thinking, he pulled away from her mouth and kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck.

She sighed, and relaxed, her arms tight around his neck. He buried his head in her neck.

“I love you, Robyn.”

“And I love you, Lex,” she whispered into his hair.


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The Bad-Idea First Kiss

Book Title: (WIP)
Author: Liz Lincoln

Readers, please note that SMEXY means certain language differences. We're talking body parts and f-bombs here. You've been warned.


He stopped just before their bodies touched. He could feel her heat, feel the pull of her. It took everything in him not to drag her against him and take her right there, up against the door.

“Tell me not to do this.” He lifted a hand to touch her, then dropped it. “Tell me this is a bad idea.”

She laid her palms in the center of his chest. Stroked up to his shoulders. Stepped closer, so her breasts brushed him.

Pleasure and hunger shot through him. Good lord, she was incredible. All she’d done was touch him and he was about to explode.


He shook his head even as it lowered. “This is a bad idea.”

Her breath teased his chin. “Maybe.”

Despite his direct order not to, his arms wrapped around her, anchoring her to him. She was perfect. Maybe it was a bad idea, but it felt so damn good.

He made himself wait, searching her eyes for any sign she didn’t want this. All he saw was desire.

She tilted her head up, her mouth a whisper from his. “Kiss me, Al. Don’t think about it. Just do it.”

With an invitation like that...

His lips covered hers as one hand slid through her hair, holding her head at the perfect angle, mindful of her injury. Part of him wanted to devour her, show her how rough and unforgiving he could be. But he held back. He kissed her the way she deserved to be kissed. Gently. Patiently. With reverence.

But holy hot fucking damn. She even tasted like cherries. Cherries and sex. He'd never eat a cherry again without getting hard.

Her tongue played against his lips, soft at first, then bolder. He opened for her and took control. Plundering. His head spun as his entire blood supply rushed to his cock. It would be so easy to rip those polka dots right off her. Wrap her legs around his waist. One tug, one zip and he could be inside her.

She slid her hands under his shirt, palms flat against his chest, derailing his thought of what he wanted to do. Because what she was doing was so fucking incredible. His skin burned, too tight to be comfortable. Her arms slid around his back, pulling him closer. Even fully clothed, they couldn't possibly get any closer.

He pressed her against the wall, careful not to slam her despite the violence he felt inside. He'd never felt hunger this intense. Even Laura hadn't made him this wild. Need clawed at him, screamed for him to tear into her.

He ripped his mouth from hers and laid kisses along her jaw. He had to taste more of her, not just those addicting lips. Her throat was hot and sweet. Not cherries this time, just the tang of woman, the salt of her perspiration.

Sexy. So fucking sexy.

"Al." His name was barely a word. A breath. She dragged her nails down his back and he answered by pulling his teeth along the edge of her top. She was panting now. She might even have said his name, but he couldn't tell past the pounding of blood in his ears. So there was a little that hadn't gone to his cock.

She pressed wet, openmouthed kissed to his temple, her breath searing his ear as he tasted her skin. This close, he could hear his name in each pant. Each time sent another zing of hunger through him.

He was going to come. He was going to explode right there like some fucking teenager. Hell, he'd never done something like this as a teen. The girls hadn't talked to a dork like him. But now, now with this gorgeous siren is his arms, he was going to blow.

Without letting himself change his mind, he ripped himself away. Stumbled back a step, two. Winded like he'd just sprinted a mile, he bent over, hands on his knees. He closed his eyes and tried to get his thoughts together. Hell, tried to have a thought that wasn't sex! Now! Now, sex! Sexsexsexsexsexsex!


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The Built-Up-Hate Kiss

Book Title: None (WIP)
Author: Cait Greer
Heat: HOT

The scene is a little long, and the actual kiss a little short, but this is to show us that sometimes it's all about the build-up. Whether it's love or hate.

Enjoy *wink*


“What’s going on here?”

The entire training room springs to attention.

Frag me.

I spin and salute. “Just a friendly training session, sir.”

Lt. Col. Tor glares at me, which seems to be his default expression whenever I’m around. “Training session?”

“The other lieutenants and I were round-robin sparring. They each wanted to take me on, so we did. I guess the others just wanted to watch. Sir.”

“They wanted to watch you spar. Do you hear yourself, Lieutenant? Your arrogance astounds me.”

Really? My arrogance?

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir. I looked up from sparring Lt. Ravenmount, and everyone had gathered to watch. I never said they wanted to watch me.”

“Maybe we should give them something to watch, then.”

Excuse me? “Sir?”

“Lt. Tallen. Start us off. Firebrand?”

I swear, if he orders me to turn off my bionics, I’ll shove him out an airlock. “Yes sir.”

Tallen calls us to attention and bows us in. I settle into a comfortable fighting stance opposite him, and watch. The bastard is smirking. Which means he’s planning to humiliate me.

Oh, he is so going down.

Like usual, he’s almost too fast to catch his lead move. But even without my bionics cranked up past normal, I’m fast too. I slide past his kick with my knee up. He pushes my knee away and slams his elbow down at my face. I push it aside and toss a punch to his kidney. It lands, and he grunts, but he doesn’t slow down. I roll with him as he spins for a reverse kick, but he avoids my attack on his base leg, sliding out with his usual speed.

I don’t even see the fist that connects with my face.

Frag him. It comes in a flash that he’s going after my bionics. The Navy will kill him if he breaks them, but I’m pretty sure he knows that.

My foot connects with his side before his fist is fully extended.

I don’t need to see you to hit you, Tor.

He’s grinning when he steps back, like he can hear me. Fine by me. I feint low and hit high. My foot slides off his shoulder as he rolls, but I catch the next punch he throws. My block flows into a backfist. He pushes it away and strikes low to knock the wind out of me. I block and push in for a throw.

Bad move, Ryn, I think when my back, not his, hits the mat.

He goes for the pin, but I shift my weight and roll away. He doesn’t let up, though. We’re both down, and it gives him the weight advantage. He leverages me back down and I barely move in time to miss the fist he hammers down where my face was. I throw an elbow to his face while he’s forward, but he pushes it away.

But that’s fine, because I expected him to. I swing my leg up to wrap it around his torso, using it to push him away to the side. This time it’s my fist that connects with his jaw, the full weight of my body behind it.

He’s good. I have to give him that. I can tell it shocks him. But Tor doesn’t let that stop him. The hand I thought I had pinned shoots out and grabs my wrist, pulling me down far enough that he offsets my weight.

We grapple for a minute, rolling across the mats in a struggle for dominance.

Tor finally ends up on top, his face so close to mine I can feel the heat rolling off him, smell the sandalwood under his sweat.

And under my seething anger at being pinned by this self-righteous Wyvern, I’m surprised to find something else.


Frag me to the nine hells no.

Wait, he was saying something. And he’s looking at me like he’s expecting an answer. Frag, what did he say?

He cranks my wrist, and it’s all I can do not to arch my back in pain, and I refuse to let it bring me even that much closer to him. Bad enough that his whole body is covering me, and I can feel my pulse speeding up at the recognition of it.

“Well, Firebrand?”

I could crank up my bionics and throw him off. But he’d win that way, too. I can almost see his silver eyes daring me to. But he’s got me well and truly pinned, and I’m done for options.

Stars and suns, I hate him.

I tap out.

“Good choice, Firebrand,” he whispers before finally letting me up.

It takes a minute before I realize the whole training room is shouting and whistling. Tor cocks an eyebrow at me, and nine hells is that a hint of a smile on his face?

I’m distracted by the pounding slaps on my back and comments telling me what a fight that was. Whatever. I just want to get away from a certain lieutenant colonel.

Tallen catches my eye and smiles in a way that says way more than just good job. I roll my eyes and make my excuses. I need to leave. Now. He’s still next to me, and I can feel the heat coming off him, and I can’t get the dare in those damned silver eyes out of my head.

The air outside the training room hatch feels so much cooler, it’s a relief. I want to just lean on the hatchway and breathe it in.

Fragging asshole.

I push into the walkway just as the hatch hisses behind me. I don’t care who it is, and I don’t want to know. I just walk as fast as I can back to my cabin.

I recognize this feeling. Panic. I just don’t know why I’m feeling it.

“Well, Firebrand?”

Get out of my head, Colonel Tor.

I make it to my bunk without careening into any of the on-duty crew traveling the halls. The lights come on as I step inside, and I thank whatever gods rule the black that I rated a private cabin as a full lieutenant. I need to be alone so I can figure out just what is going on inside my head. I just wish there was more room to pace. Three steps and I’m across my small room. Private bunk, yes. Big? No.

The hatch chimes.

Frag it. Who-

Silver eyes burning down at me, and his lips are on mine before I can get a sound out of my open mouth and gods of the black. My back hits the bulkhead and I barely notice the hiss of the hatch closing because his tongue is sliding along mine and his fingers are digging into my hips just like mine are digging into his arms.

I don’t even know what this is, and I don’t care, because nine hells, the way his teeth tug at my lip before his tongue assaults mine again has my brain shutting down. His hips press me harder to the bulkhead and frag it. Hate sex. Sure. I can do that.

I can totally do that.


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The Almost-Kiss

Book Title: EYRE HOUSE
Author: Cait Greer
Heat: Steamy

This kiss isn't actually a kiss at all. But it has elements of the romantic tension needed in certain kisses. Enjoy...


“Thanks for coming with me tonight.” Her voice was suddenly husky. Not teary, but wanting. The kind of wanting that immediately made my heart pound in my ears. “I hope you had fun.”

I tapped the heavy flashlight against my leg and tried not to think about how much I just wanted to pull her to me. To comfort her or kiss her—I wasn’t sure anymore. “It was a good tour. Almost a perfect night. Are you—”

Her hand touched my chest, pushing me until my back hit something solid.

“Ginny…” Her name was a growl in my throat, and an obvious giveaway that her rapid change was affecting me.

“You’re so determined to be good.”

Oh, she had no idea. The tears were long gone, vanished in the night, and I almost wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing. Something clicked into place in my head, years of psychobabble from Social Services. She was deflecting.

“I know how much you want to be bad,” she whispered, close enough that I could feel her breath against my jaw. I felt the faint brush of her lips on the underside of my jaw, and then on my neck.

Okay, she did have an idea. Maybe too much of one. She was definitely deflecting, but she was also damned good at it. I almost laughed.

Instead, I clenched my teeth and tried to remember to breathe.


Her lips brushed mine, just a ghost of a kiss, a feather-light touch. But I could feel the moisture on her lips and wanted so much to respond. I didn’t like being used, but would it really be so bad?

Her tongue flicked out, tasting my bottom lip. My hands squeezed tight, and I could almost feel Ginny smiling. I could almost feel her entire body. So close. So very, very close.

“Just let go, Evan.”

Lord Almighty, I wanted to. This close, smelling of sunshine and sweetness, the barest touch of her lips on mine, the moisture and heat of her breath. I wanted it, wanted her, wanted to do what she asked and just let go.

The trolley bell rang, calling us back.

Ginny’s hot breath spilled over my neck with a breathless laugh. “Saved by the bell.”

She backed away, but I could still see her grin in the darkness. Biting her lower lip, she cocked her head and walked away.

The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding blew out in a rush. I shook my head and followed before I lost her to the darkness and mist.


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The Awkward Best Friends Kiss

Author: Brianna Shrum
Heat: Flirty (and a little awkward)


I finally look up at him. “I need you, um…this is so stupid. I need you to teach me to make out.”

His jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

I stand up. This was a ridiculous idea. “Never mind. This is stupid. I need to go home.”

He catches my wrist and looks up at me, tugging gently. “No, stay.”

I slowly sit, and look at him, though I’d like to be looking anywhere else.

“So you need to teach your loyal readers how to suck face, and you’re asking my expertise?”

“That’s disgusting. And yes. I am. I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“Not even April? I bet she’d help you out. Invite me over.”

I hit him in the chest and he falls back, laughing. “Seriously though, you have to become a ‘certified expert’ on this topic? Have you ever even kissed a guy?”

I scoff. “I’m sixteen. Of course I have.”

He scoots a little closer. “With tongue?”

I purse my lips and look away.

“That’s what I thought. Maybe you should just let me ghostwrite this one for you.”

“Okay, enough. Are you going to do it or not?”

The little smirk on his face reduces and he looks me in the eye. “So you’re asking me then. To kiss you.”

I draw in a shaky breath. “Yes.”

He scoots closer to me and moves his face toward mine. I find myself inching backward. “What are you doing?” I blurt out.

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

I move back closer to him and he leans forward, not touching me anywhere. And when he kisses me, it’s like that scene from Sixteen Candles, where Molly Ringwald and Jake Ryan lean over the birthday cake. It’s a small kiss, almost innocent, and it doesn’t send shivers down my spine or anything.

He pulls back and grins, licks his lips a little. “Green apple gum. Interesting choice.”

“Shut up.”

“I just need to say one thing before I kiss you again.”

“Shoot,” I say.

“I’m…you know I’m in love with you. That’s not a state secret. So if I get caught up in this, if I go too far, anything, I need you to tell me. Because I’m being honest with you here. I might, if I’m kissing you, I might start thinking with [PG-13 words have been edited out] and it does not know I’m doing this for a blog.”


“I’m serious.”

“I know,” I say. “And I trust you. You go too far, I’ll tell you.”


We both sit there in silence for a minute, then he inches even closer than he was before.

“I’m gonna kiss you again. And I’m gonna use tongue.”

I steady myself; my heartbeat is wildly out of rhythm. “Okay.”

He leans forward, slowly this time, and I can see that he’s shaking. And then he kisses me, soft at first, just his lips on mine. This time, maybe because it’s real, maybe because I know what’s coming, I get tingles everywhere. Then he nudges my mouth open with his and there’s a tongue. There’s a guy’s tongue in my mouth. What am I supposed to do with this? Oh no. Do I lick it or something? I don’t even think there’s room for me to move mine. I think maybe I’m biting it a little. This is not good. Mayday. Mayday. And then he slides his hand up my leg and I jump so far back, I hit my head on the wall.

He jumps back too, like I’ve just stuck him with a cattle prod.

“You touched my leg. Your tongue was in my mouth. Drew, you freaking, you licked my mouth.”

“I did not lick your mouth.”

“Well, I don’t know what else you’d call it. And what was that? With your hand?”

“Excuse me,” he says, clearly annoyed. “Sorry for touching you while we made out. I apologize; I usually touch a girl with something other than my lips when I kiss her. It’s not like I was fondling you.”

I shake my head. “This was such a bad idea.”

“No it wasn’t. You just need to chill out.”

“I need to chill out? Okay Shaky McGee, master of tongue. You’re the one giving me semi-rapey pre-kiss warnings and I’m the one who needs to chill out.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m going to ignore that for now, and teach you how to kiss a guy, okay? You’re overthinking it. When I kiss you, you’re thinking about where your tongue should go and if this is exactly how it’s supposed to feel, and Oh no, his fingers are touching me in completely appropriate places. Just stop. Stop thinking about it and let me kiss you.”

The crazy pulse again. Now I’m shaking. He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear and runs his fingers through it with one hand, and he brings the other one to my bare waist. Then he inches closer to me, so close that I can’t believe we’re not kissing yet. He just lingers there for a minute until I can feel myself moving toward him, wanting to kiss him.

When our lips touch, it’s me who brought them together. But Drew takes control fast, pulling my head toward his, fingers tangled in my hair. This time, when he slides his tongue between my lips, I just let it happen. I try not to think, try not to analyze everything, just let myself feel the rush of it, the intoxicating touch of his fingers in my hair, gripping my lower back, his mouth moving against mine.

He pushes me back against the wall lightly, and when I reach out and let my fingers play at the base of his scalp, he breathes out a low sound and pulls me closer. And that’s when I know I have to stop. I don’t want to. But I do, pushing gently at his chest.

He sits back, and I swallow hard, just staring at him.

“Not bad for your first time,” he finally says, his mouth smirking, but his eyes looking almost pained.

“Oh thanks. You sure know how to compliment a girl.”

“Maybe not, but I know how to kiss one.”


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