Sunday, August 28, 2011

Sunday Snog-8/28/11

Today's Sunday Snog comes from my current WIP:

And now they weren't kids anymore, and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly, he couldn't tear his eyes from her mouth. Perhaps his thoughts were loud enough to hear, because she bent forward and placed her lips on his cheek.

“Get some sleep, then.” She began to pull back, then hesitated, like she'd changed her mind. She leaned back in and placed her lips on the edge of his mouth, just as he'd done that night at Beach Bums. Oh, God. She smelled like apricots, from her shampoo or hand lotion or something, and without even thinking, he turned his head, no more than an inch, and their lips were joined. They both froze with the shock of it, until Beck tilted his head slightly, and their mouths were joined even more perfectly, if such a thing was possible. He boldly ran the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips, and they parted to allow him entry.

Jesus. He'd never tasted anything so wonderful. The soft-firm pressure of her mouth on his shot hot waves through his belly. Her tongue was wet and smooth and perfect, and he wanted to suck it in his mouth and bite it. Hard. The thought made his cock twitch with longing, and he was suddenly grateful that Henry was still tucked beside him on the couch, a fifty-pound shield between Lainey and the growing evidence of his lustful fantasies.

Lainey pulled away, and they stared at each other with wide, wild eyes. Whoa.

“Beck.” Her voice was low, made him even harder.


She shook her head, as if trying to clear it, then gave him a shy smile. “Good night.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” He meant it as a joke, like before, when they were pretending to be a couple. But his voice betrayed him—it didn't sound like a joke at all.

“Am I your sweetheart?”

Holy shit. Holy shit. “Of course you are.”

For more great Sunday Snogs, head on over to

1 comment: