I must confess, I find Valentine’s Day to be utterly pointless. The BF and I don’t celebrate it-why should we?
But, because I am a romance writer, I thought I’d be nice and treat y’all to What Didn’t Happen That Night’s Taylor and Sara’s first kiss. Because if I do say so myself, it’s a doozy.
You can go back to this post to see where they almost kissed…but not quite. It takes a little more time and some major courage on Sara’s part to do this. And when she does, well, just read it and see what happens.
After their conversation in the bar, she had a feeling she’d need to surprise a kiss out of him. Trying not to telegraph her intent, she gave him a quick smile and turned to walk off, toward her bus stop. Then she spun around and laid it on him.
He didn’t respond. His lips remained immobile over hers, and a flush worked its way up her neck to the tips of her ears. Dropping onto her heels, she offered him another tight smile and headed off to her bus stop.
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid to attempt something with a man who had only recently given her any indication he might be interested in something more. Her heels clicked over the sidewalk as she hurried down the block. The best, or worst, part of all of it was he’d probably act like nothing had happened.
Best. Best thing. It would mean they could continue to work together, and possible lunch together, without awkwardness.
She’d give it a few days before she stopped by his office.
The footsteps coming up behind her didn’t register, lost as she was, attempting damage control. Her shriek of surprise was muffled by a hot, firm mouth, lips molding to hers, begging her to respond.
The mouth was attached to Taylor.
His hands slid down, over her hips, gripping and yanking her to him, and her arms wound around his neck as she opened for him. His tongue tangled with hers, giving her exactly what she needed, lust and heat and a kind of claiming that crushed her doubts to a million tiny pieces.
She kissed him back, licking into his mouth, giving him more than he’d asked for, bound and determined to make him remember this one kiss, as if it was the only one they’d ever share.
The kiss was all demands. There was no softness, no gentle exploration. The need that had flared to life as his mouth continued to assault hers ratcheted higher, and she forgot they were on a crowded sidewalk during rush hour. She wanted that mouth all over her. On her neck. Her breasts. Over her belly. Between her thighs. Especially there, stoking the fire until it flamed out of control.
The kiss broke, the two of them panting. “Sara.” Taylor’s hands were in her hair, and she dimly wondered where the pins holding it up had gone. He kissed her forehead. “You should go home,” he murmured.
Yes. Going home would be good. Going home meant they could continue this with far less clothing.
“Stay safe, little one.” His lips brushed over hers, and then he was gone.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.