100th Sunday Snog – BLISSE KISS U.K.

At Blisse Kiss they believe in love. Everyone needs someone to lean on in times of need, they need someone to kiss it better. So Blisse Kiss is celebrating their 100th Anniversary today with a Sunday Snog. 100 authors are participating in the biggest and best Sunday Snog ever. We’re all sharing an excerpt from our book that includes a kiss along with our donation to Medecins Sans Fronteires to pass on the love to those who need it the most.

LINK TO BLISSEKISS:

 

So here’s the short excerpt from my book Moon Over Alcatraz with Brandy’s first kiss with Edward.

The last day for people to enter the Sunday Snog contests will be Friday 27th September.

Subscribe to my blog and I will pick a winner on September 28 to receive a copy of my book Moon Over Alcatraz in e-book form.

Cheers!

Patricia Yager Delagrange

 

His eyes met mine. “Did you know I had a crush on you throughout our four years of high school?”

My mouth dropped half-open. It took a few seconds to find my voice. “You’re not serious.”

Shaking his head, he added, “I was too shy to actually say anything to you. I remember feeling I’d die of embarrassment if I asked you out and you turned me down. So I never said anything, never broached the subject.”

“I’m flattered.” He chuckled. “No, I’m serious. I didn’t know you thought about me that way.”

“I thought about you a lot, believe me. In ways that would turn both our faces red as a beet.” He took another sip of his drink then placed it on the table.

I felt awkward, didn’t know what to say. So I kept quiet, looking down at the couch, fiddling with a stray thread in the cushion. Edward and I had been close during high school but we’d lost touch when we departed for our respective colleges. A lot of time had passed since we’d been friends.

In high school, he was kind, funny, had a great personality, and I’d always felt comfortable and safe when we hung out together. I recalled how he’d come to my rescue many times, saving me from unwanted advances from some of the more aggressive guys who frequented our school.

Looking up, I could see the longing in his eyes, his gaze fixed on mine, pupils dilated, the silence between us palpable. He reached out his hand and took my drink, placed it on the table next to his then covered my hand with his warm palm. I turned mine upward and grasped his fingers.

The tug on my hand was barely perceptible but there nonetheless. I moved toward him several inches and he stretched out his other arm, pulling me into his embrace. His lips were warm, the caress of his tongue on mine hot. I shivered. His arms around me were like a security blanket, holding me close to his chest. Tingling sensations zipped through my body.

He slowly pressed me back onto the seat of the couch, angling his body to the side of me, engaging my mouth in long, lazy caresses with his tongue. I settled my hand over the zipper of his jeans, rubbing in slow pressured circles. His mouth found my nipple protruding through the material of my shirt and he suckled the nub gently. Zinging currents ripped through my groin.

I hadn’t felt any of these sensations since before that awful day in the hospital and I succumbed to how good it felt, burning sexual desire saturating my body. Not thinking of the past or the future, my mind floated in the inexplicable present, my only awareness the physical heat spreading through every part of me.

Kissing a path up my neck toward my lips, his mouth met mine in a frenzied array of deep kisses interspersed with my nibbling on the sweet flesh of his full lips. Weaving my hands through his thick hair, I moved my hips inward, pressing against the bulge in his pants, further enhancing his growing passion.

He moaned, pulling away from me. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

I shook my head, never breaking our gaze. “No, I’m not sure. But I don’t want you to stop.”

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