You may as well know up front,
writing kissing scenes makes me blush. Which is why when I'm working with my writing partner, I will typically set her up to write them. Works out. She rocks the kissing scenes.
Sometimes though, she makes me do one... I think she's trying to stretch me, but
she might just be messing with me because she likes to see me cringe when I write one.
Here are some of our kissing scenes from the Waltzing with the Wallflower series (See if you can tell which of us wrote what):
from
Waltzing with the Wallflower (Book 1)
Her breath hitched. He noticed, because the instant it
happened his eyes darted to her parted lips. He leaned in, lightly inviting her
mouth to taste his. She seemed unsure, frozen in place. He lifted her chin and
ever so gently brushed a light kiss across her lips. If lightning would have
struck him where he stood, he wouldn’t have been shocked, for the minute her
innocent lips came into contact with his, he was a changed man.
An electric current hummed between their bodies. Without
asking permission or thinking of their current situation, or the bet for that
matter, he laid claim to her lips again. She didn’t push against him. Instead
she sighed as he pressed his body against hers and used his tongue to part her
lips further. Lust shot through him at alarming speed as Cordelia let out a
sensual sigh, entangling her fingers into his hair. With a little tug, she had
his complete devotion and attention. In fact, he was quite ready to ruin her
and be done with it. Tentatively, she tasted him as he had her. At that moment
the fires of Hades couldn’t have put a stop to his sensual exploration of her
mouth. His hands slid down her waist memorizing every line of her body…
“Ahem, I can see I’m interrupting. Good thing too, considering
the circumstances.”
from Beguiling Bridget (Book 2)
“Many gentlemen feel as I do. They simply lack the courage
to confess it aloud.” He was moving toward her now, and she felt trapped as she
tried in vain to inch away from him, finally finding herself backed up to a
cold marble column. “You might find this hard to believe, but men are often
afraid intelligent women will reject them.”
“And yet they keep trying. Don’t they, my lord?” He was too
close. He was far too close. No matter what he said, Bridget promised herself
she would not concede the field. Defense strategy. That is what she needed. And
the best defense was often a good offense.
She offered him a sinfully sweet smile and waited for him to
stop in his tracks. He didn’t. Instead, he sauntered closer, slow but constant,
until his face was inches from hers. Her breath quickened, and suddenly it
seemed that air was in short supply even outside on the balcony.
“Yes, some of us don’t understand the word defeat.”
“Even when it comes in the form of strawberries?” Bridget
asked, fighting to control her breathing as the man drew nearer.
“Even when the lady threatens to push us in front of
oncoming carriages and feed us the most grotesque fruit known to mankind. Even
then, my lady. Even then.” His smile dazzled her as he inclined his head and
bestowed a soft lingering kiss on her lips.
The warm sensation of his tender kiss seeped into her bones.
His lips were soft and hypnotic as they lightly moved across hers. A battle
raged within her, and she couldn’t decide if she should pull him closer or slap
him across his perfect aristocratic face. So she waited, hoping the answer
would come on its own.
She didn’t have to wait long. As he withdrew, the victorious
sparkle in his eye and the triumphant smirk spreading wide across his lips
brought her the realization — he thought he’d won.
And then her hand flew on its own.
from Taming Wilde (Book 3)
“I may be a fool, but at least I am not a coward.” Her eyes
narrowed. She leaned forward, her chin nearly resting on his chest.
“Coward?” Minutes ago Colin had wanted to kill Anthony; now
he was grateful, for at least he knew how to use his rakish charms against
Gemma. Allow her to believe in his cool indifference when really all he wanted
to do was reach out and touch her, pull her into his arms and never let go.
“Yes, I believe that is what I said. You are a coward.”
Gemma’s blue eyes were glossy with unshed tears.
“I see.” Colin slowly inhaled her scent and reached to tilt
her chin toward his mouth. Before he lost his nerve, he crushed his lips
against hers, relishing the memory of their first kiss. The day that changed
everything. The day she abandoned him and chose her family over love.
Her mouth was so soft, softer than he remembered. It was
everything he wanted — everything he needed. For a minute the darkness didn’t
seem so dark. The hole seemed not so deep. But it was an illusion, for she
could not be trusted — not as a friend and surely not as a lover. She would
stomp on whatever was left of his heart and leave him in utter darkness, even
deeper in the hole of his own making.
With a laugh, he pushed her away. “Still as innocent as I
remember. Thank you for reminding me, dear Gemma.”
She stared at him in breathless shock. “Reminding you of
what?”
“What I’m missing, of course.”
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