Today's kiss is from my short story "Something Borrowed", one of the tales in my extremely eclectic collection Body Electric. This M/M/F tale was based on a real life experience - but I'm not going to tell you how much is true and how much is the product of my very active imagination!
When you're done with my snog, please visit Victoria's Sunday Snog page for links to lots more succulent kisses!
The song stretched out forever. Gradually I relaxed into Mark’s embrace, allowing him to take the lead. We moved together, each step flowing into the next, like one being. Everything felt so very right. I was high on the way we fit together, the way I responded to his subtlest cue. Effervescent joy leavened my lust. This was something new, something more than just physical.
I peered up at him. His half-smile, the light dancing in his ocean eyes told me he sensed it, too.
Drunk on his closeness, I didn’t even notice when the music stopped. I was shocked when he released me. My first impulse was to grab him, to press myself against his sweet, lean body once again. I couldn’t bear the loss of contact. Only his firm hand on my shoulder stopped me. He led me back to my chair. I discovered that I was trembling.
Mark seated himself beside me. “Thank you – but I don’t know your name yet.”
I was fascinated by his ripe lips and imagining a kiss. It took me a moment to answer.
“Oh – um – Delia. I’m Delia.”
He caught my hand between his. Blood raced to my clit at the skin-on-skin gesture. “It’s a pleasure, Delia.”
The sparkle from the cut-glass chandelier overhead reflected in his eyes. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No! No, please, I’m fine.” My other hand was on top of his two. I couldn’t stand the notion of his leaving. I suddenly saw that I was acting uncivilized. Maybe he wanted a drink himself. Perhaps he even wanted to get away from me. “Of course, if you’d like one...”
“No, that’s okay. You just seemed a bit – flushed.” His grin made it perfectly clear that he understood why. I should have been annoyed by his cockiness, but honestly, I wanted him too much.
“Ah – well, it’s a bit warm in here. I expected San Francisco to be cool and damp this time of year.” Right, Delia. Talk about the weather. That’s always a refuge in times of social confusion.
Mark had not released my hand. He brushed a fingertip delicately across my palm. My nipples tightened to the point of pain. “Where are you from?” he asked, tracing a line along the outside of my index finger. I shivered.
“I live in Los Angeles. Santa Monica actually. I teach computer science at UCLA.” I was amazed that I was managing to keep up any kind of discourse. My heart slammed against my ribs and I could feel a dribble of pussy juice inching its way down the inside of my thigh. “Jill was my roommate in college, but we’ve been a bit out of touch. This is the first time I’ve seen her since she moved west.”
“Ah, we’re practically neighbors. I live in Westwood. Junior partner in a law firm.”
A lawyer! I should have known. He was so slick, so sure of himself. But damn it, he was gorgeous.
I made a superhuman effort to pull myself together. Extricating my hand from his, I brushed my damp curls away from my sweaty forehead. “And what about you? How do you know Jill and Dan?”
“I don’t. But my boyfriend Scott – “ Mark gestured toward the dining room, where an athletic blond guy was deep in conversation with Dan – “He’s the best man. I just came along to keep him company.”
For a moment I was sure that the San Andreas fault had finally let go. The earth rocked under my feet. A roaring filled my ears. “Your boyfriend?” I sputtered at last.
“Yes, that’s right.” Mark’s amusement transformed itself into concern as he saw my distress. “Are you alright? Is that a problem?”
I couldn’t look at him. I wanted to sink through the floor. Here I was, creaming over his luscious body and fresh face, imagining that he was my soul mate, for God’s sake, and he was gay!
He cupped my chin and raised my gaze to his. “What’s wrong, Delia? It doesn’t gross you out, does it? The thought of two guys together?”
“No – of course not – it’s just that I thought – I felt – you and me...” I don’t think I’ve ever been so miserable and embarrassed. “I thought you were – interested in me...”
That’s when he kissed me. Wallowing in self-disgust, I didn’t expect the soft brush of his lips against mine, the tease of his tongue flickering across my mouth before he pulled back. I gasped. The fire in my sex flared again at his touch, his taste, the heady scent that swirled around him.
“I am interested. Very much so. I feel like there’s some kind of strong connection between us.”
So he felt it too. “But...”
“I like girls as well as guys. And Scott’s not the jealous type. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”