So, the challenge: Write a kissing scene or 'almost' kissing scene for Kissing Day Blogfest! Yeah, you got it. In honor of Mistle Toe.
To learn the official rules, check out A Writer Wannabe at: http://sherrindak.blogspot.com/
I'm not sure I want to put an 'almost' kiss scene. I need closure. Hmm...maybe I'll put one that has a little of both :-)
Here's an excerpt from my novel, It Had to Be You - American in England :-)
Eisley dabbed her eyes and fisted the handkerchief, her voice cloaked with tears.
“You make me feel things…” She pressed her fist over her heart and shook her head, new tears escaping down her cheeks and searing his self-control.
Wes stepped closer, trying his best to take it slow. He should have earned an award for self-control after all the waiting he’d done lately, but she was worth it.
Her lips fell into a pout, a plump, silky-looking pout. God, help me.
“I don’t want to be…vulnerable…or hurt again.”
The pain in her eyes twisted at his heart. Yes, he could take it slow.
He tilted her face up with a gentle touch of his hand. His words formed on a whisper. “Do you think I would hurt you?”
Her gaze lifted, emerald pools of sorrow, and she shook her head in defeat, breaths uneven.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m acting like an idiot. It isn’t as though I should be afraid of you… returning any of these feelings, right? Crazy. You probably have women do this all the time, maybe not in a 15th century tower, but…” She offered an apologetic smile and drew her chin from his hand, tears still waiting in her eyes. “You make a great friend, but for you and me…”
Her laugh sounded a little too much like a sob. She patted his arm and tried to move past him. “It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t even…I’m so sorry.”
He stopped her escape with a hand to her arm. “Why do you say that, Eisley?” His thumb swept a rebel tear from her cheek and dropped to rest on her shoulder. “I care about you in a very real way.”
She blinked and stepped back, just outside his reach. “As a friend, I know, and you’re a wonderful…”
“No, something much more dear.” He tightened the gap between them with another step.
She stumbled away, her eyes searching his, confused. “But I’m not interested in a weekend romance or even a month long fling. My heart can’t take it and my kids…”
“I’m not looking for that either.” Wes took another step closer.
“What? A few months of a long distance relationship?” She challenged with an angled brow, a hint of fire in those green depths.
She pushed his handkerchief back in his hands. “Maybe a year?” She shook her head and her next backward step placed her against the stone wall. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
His lips threatened to smile. He loved to watch her face come to life when she was angry.
Fascinating, really.
He rushed ahead. “I’m not asking for a commitment right now, only an awareness of my feelings and my sincere desire to win your heart.”
She firmed her chin and examined him through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny.”
It was his turn to feel surprised. “I’m quite serious, I assure you.”
She pressed her body against the wall, her expression moving through a myriad of emotions…doubt and hope vying for success. The poor dear was utterly confused, her lovely lips opening and closing without a word escaping.
He leaned closer, gentling his voice and waiting for her eyes to meet his. “Do you have any reason to doubt my sincerity, Eisley?”
His fingers smoothed a line down her arm and she shivered. Should he dare draw her into his arms now? Was she ready?
“You’ve introduced me to more life and hope this past week than I’ve felt in years. I don’t want to see my future without you in it.”
The wariness in her eyes wavered, so did her lips, and she snatched back the handkerchief. “Is that a line from a movie?”
He pushed a ginger tendril from her damp cheek and shook his head. “This isn’t pretend.”
She lifted both eyebrows in question.He grinned and glanced about the five hundred year old tower room. “Alright, fantastic…but not pretend.”
She lifted both eyebrows in question.He grinned and glanced about the five hundred year old tower room. “Alright, fantastic…but not pretend.”
Hope dawned in her eyes, slow and steady, like a sunrise. She raised her palm to his cheek, warm, soft and trembling a bit. Mint lingered in the air and urged him forward.
Her voice breathed the words in a shaky whisper. “Okay, you are real. I had to check.” She sniffed, her smile growing. “Because I have a very good imagination.”
His lips sought her palm, and her quick intake of breath encouraged him to trail kisses down to her wrist. “I’d like to …um…. court you through letters…and email.”
“Court me?”
“Yes, allow our feelings to grow and develop through time and…” He grimaced. “Distance.”
Eisley swallowed. “And then? When you return to your real world and I return to mine? After you’ve won this single-mum’s heart?”
He captured her hand from his cheek, and braided his fingers through hers. “I plan to make her my bride…if she’ll have me?”
“You’re bride?” She whispered and then a giggle burst from her lips as she wiped tears from her face with the handkerchief. “Why?”
“Why?” His grin broadened. “Because you’re lovely, compassionate, tender-hearted, funny, joyful.” He tweaked a brow. “Did I say lovely?”
Her smile bloomed and drew his attention back to her lips.
She dropped her head, shaking it slowly from side to side. “Talk about crazy. This feels impossible, you know that?”
“God masters in the impossible, right?” He placed his hand on the wall above her head, leaning closer, her face tilting up to his.
“Have you been talking to my mom?”
Her gaze flickered to his lips and back, her shallow breath fanning his chin and sending a whiff of chocolate chip granola. Suddenly the room felt like a sauna.
He edged closer, lowering his hand to cup her cheek, his smile fading, as through hooded eyes he focused on her mouth. The mouth that had been a constant temptation since the day he met her.
Rosemary mingled with mint and chocolate chip in a wonderfully intoxicating way. Who was caught now?
She leaned her head back against the wall, eyes drifted closed and moist lips parted, slightly, in expectation of a kiss. Her breath blended with his, faster…closer.
“Wesley? Eisley? Are you there?”
His lips hovered near enough to feel her mouth stretch into a smile.
Lizzie’s voice drifted up through the stairwell just beyond the locked door.
“Eisley. Christopher Wesley.”
“Hmm, to be continued?” Eisley kinked a brow, her gaze a reflection of the embers in his chest.
He snuck a quick kiss, which only whetted his appetite for more, and growled. “Soon.”
He snuck a quick kiss, which only whetted his appetite for more, and growled. “Soon.”
She sighed and stepped toward the door. “It’d better be soon or I won’t believe it happened at all.”
“We can’t have that now, can we?” His arm swept about her waist and pulled her forward his lips covering her surprised ones, tasting their softness and warmth, with a hint of chocolate.
She released a satisfied moan and ran her hands up his arms to link about his neck, her passion matching his own. He drew her closer, lost in her scent and taste, a warmth shuddering through him with a sweet sense of home.
The door clanked from another shake. “Wesley. Eisley.”
