Well, here we are on day four of our author’s favorite kiss. Let’s go over yesterday’s post first, though, shall we?
Did you guess me, Karen Kay, for the first favorite kiss? If so, you are entirely right. This kiss was inspired by the first kiss I received from my husband-to-be, way back in 1996. We were married shortly after that kiss. : ) It was soul stirring and had me “waking up,” wondering, “who is this man?” Needless to say we’ve been married now for 12 years.
And now for today’s excerpts. We have some more soul-wrenching, hot, hot scenes for you today! So cuddle up and read on.
Grant heaved a sigh of despair. “They’ll never leave my family alone.” He turned to face Hannah. “They were this mad after yesterday and yesterday there was no trouble. Just wait until one of your students goes home crying because Sadie beat him in a spelling bee. That bunch will be back.”
Grant noticed Hannah’s hands were trembling as she crossed her arms.
“I can’t believe they let me off as easily as they did. I thought I was done for from the minute they showed up because I was going to quit before I let them drive your children out of the school.”
“Don’t sacrifice your job, Hannah.” Grant put his hat on with a rough jerk of the brim and turned to go. “I don’t expect you to do that for me.”
“I wouldn’t cross the street for you, you idiot.” She grabbed his arm and spun him around.
She only managed to manhandle him because he was turning back toward her anyway in surprise. Grant had one split second after she exploded, to marvel at how well she’d kept her cool with that posse of orphan haters. Then she attacked.
“If you think I’d side with that mean-spirited, selfish bunch of vigilantes over your children. You don’t—”
Grant held up both hands to ward her off. “Look, Hannah, I didn’t mean—”
Hannah grabbed the lapels of his flannel shirt. “—have any idea who I am. Why, if you think—”
“It’s not that. I didn’t say—” Grant backed up a step.
Hannah followed him all the way to the wall. “—I’ll stand by and let Sadie get thrown out of school because of the color of her skin—”
“I’m sorry. Really, Hannah. I wasn’t suggesting—” Grant, caught her hands where they were shaking his collar. She seemed determined to strangle him to death.
She tightened her grip. “—or slam the door in the face—”
Grant stopped trying to placate her and leaned over her, “Listen, I didn’t mean to imply you had anything against orphans. If you’ll—”
“—of any child—”
All his tension uncoiled like a striking rattler. “—just shut up for a second—” He pulled her hands off his throat.
She yanked away from his grip. “—orphan or not—”
“I’ve got a lot more to lose here than you.” He just needed her to shut up for a minute so he could tell her how much he appreciated her standing by him, and how sorry he was she had to face down a mob, and how annoying she was, and how pretty, and sweet.
“—who wants to learn—”
He turned her around and trapped her. “—and let me apologize, I’ll—”
She turned her face up, her eyes flashed with fire and spirit, her cheeks flushed. “—then you’re the most insulting man I’ve ever—”
He couldn’t think of any other way to close her yapping mouth.
He kissed her.
She shut up.
He jumped back so fast he tripped over a desk. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Hannah covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide, watching him like he’d grown rattles and fangs and attacked her.
Grant shook his head and felt his brain rattle, so maybe he was close to growing the fangs and he was very much afraid he might attack her again.
Hannah ran her tongue over her lips as if she wanted to wash the taste of him away. Or just taste him. “That can’t ever happen again!”
“That can never happen again.” Grant couldn’t back farther because of the desk. That’s the only possible reason he went forward instead. And kissed her again.
I love this scene. And now for the next favorite kiss:
He held her carefully, without menace or threat, and she went willingly to him, allowing him the liberty of brushing her body to his, finding his gentle strength thrilling.
A half smile on his lips brought her attention to his mouth, and when she looked at him, he searched her face for a moment, their eyes locking. Hidden against the dark side of the barn, where moonlight seemed to have vanished, Clint dropped his hands lower, his fingers splaying wide, making circles on the small of her back, sending magnificent shivers spiraling through her body.
“You like the feel of that, honey?”
His voice flowed out like smooth silk. Tess swallowed and stood still, wanting his touch but fearing it, too. He moved his hands farther down, to the very tips of her derriere, stirring her senses and creating havoc inside. Her breaths came rapidly and her emotions rocked out of control. “You know what I want to do.”
Silk again, smooth and edged with promise. “Clint,” she said, meant as a warning, but his name came out a breathless whisper.
He smiled right before he cupped her head with one hand and drew her lips to his. Their mouths mated and she reeled from the initial contact. Every nerve ending tingled with pleasure. Sure and confidently, he moved his mouth over hers but with enough gentleness to assure her freedom. It was her decision to make, but ultimately it was not.
She couldn’t deny the impact of his kiss or the flutters inside from being claimed by this man. He stroked her lips with the tip of his tongue, outlining their shape, then plunged deeper into her mouth, until small pleasured sounds escaped her throat. Their tongues mated, causing rapid-fire heat to shoot through to her woman’s center. A tiny ache built between her legs, and she felt unfulfilled and needy, a sensation altogether new to Tess.
She cupped Clint’s face now, responding to his passion and stroking him the way he did her returning his kisses with equal enthusiasm. He held her firmly and she arched her back allowing him access to her throat. He drizzled kisses there, wetting her skin and catching the coolness of the outside air. Her senses spiraling out of control, she barely felt the sash to her robe coming undone. It hung now from her shoulders exposing her chemise. “I’ve seen you without this robe, Tess. I want to see you again.”
Hot! Hot! And a beautiful useage of words, I think. It’s a little like hot poetry, don’t you think? Do you know who wrote it? Well, come on in and let’s talk about it.