Sunday Snog #146: Exposure (F/F excerpt)

The new edition of Exposure is now available from Excessica. I'm so impressed - they actually got Barnes and Noble to release it the same day as everyone else!

So of course I have a snog from the book for you today. My heroine Stella is bi, and this is an F/F excerpt. I hope you like it.

When you're done here, hop over to Victoria's for more sweet and sexy weekend kisses!

Oh, and to celebrate the release, I'm doing a giveaway. Leave a comment with your email address and I'll throw your name into the hat for a $10 Amazon gift certificate.

Get your copy of Exposure today:
 
Amazon US

Amazon CA

Amazon UK

Barnes and Noble

I smell her before I see her. She must have freshened her perfume when she changed. And certainly she has changed. Her stylish but severe suit has been replaced by a black velour lounging outfit, a loose tunic and flowing pants. Her hair is a mass of damp curls, as if she just toweled it after a shower. She has exchanged her fashionable mauve lipstick for bright red. She looks ten years younger, and I have to admit, incredibly desirable. The velvety fabric of her outfit just cries out to be touched.

She notices me looking at the folders. “Those are Tony’s files on the campaign. I left them out for you. There are draft speeches, position papers, notes on people and places, ideas for campaign activities.” She glides across the polished wood floor and stands behind me, her hands resting on my shoulders. “I always told him he should get a tablet or at least a smart phone, but in some ways he was very old-fashioned.” Her breath is warm on my neck. She lifts the heavy veil of my hair and brushes her lips over the sensitive skin behind my ear. Hot blood rushes to my earlobes, my nipples, my sex.

“For example, he liked old-fashioned girls, with plenty of curves.” Now her hands are cupping my breasts, her thumbs gently massaging the nubs that protrude even through three layers of bra, blouse, and jacket. She flicks her tongue along the line of my jaw. I gasp at the answering lightning that arcs through my body. “You know what I mean, don’t you, Stella?”

She’s taking control, gentle but determined. Oh, how I long to give in to her! I want to sink into her, drown myself in her kisses, lose myself in her strength. I’m so tense, vibrating between fear and desire, that I’m ready to scream.

She grasps my chin, turns my face to hers, her lips already parted and ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the pile of folders. This is not why I’m here, I think, as her mouth fastens on mine and her tongue probes me. But I can’t seem to resist her.

Her lipstick is cherry-flavored, which almost makes me laugh. Then I gasp as she slides a bold hand up the inside of my thigh. She finds the bare skin at the top of my stocking. “Mmm,” she murmurs, nibbling at my lips. “A garter belt. So traditional. So sexy. You’re such a delicious, old-fashioned slut.”

That word, from her, is too much of a shock. The tortured Barbie leaps into my mind. My whole body stiffens. Hoping that I am not insulting her, I push her away and stand up hurriedly. A spike of pain skewers my ankle at the sudden weight.

“No, Francesca. We agreed that our relationship had to be platonic if we were going to work together. You think today was bad, just think of the circus if the press found out that we were lovers.”

Francesca smiles weakly. “Well, we’d get the gay vote.” She sighs, and brushes my hair out of my eyes. “But I suppose that you’re right. For now we need to keep our hands off each other. It’s so difficult to resist you, though.” She gazes longingly at my bare throat, where my blouse has come unbuttoned. Then she straightens and smoothes her tunic. I watch her face rearrange itself, from eager lust to calculated firmness. The liquid warmth in her eyes freezes to a glittering hardness.

“I’m so lonely, Stella. I apologize for trying to seduce you, but since—that night—being alone has just been unbearable. I’m strong, though. You know that. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again, if that’s what you want.”

“You know what I want.” I recognize her play for sympathy, but I feel sorry for her anyway. “I just don’t think that’s what’s best for us right now. For either of us.”

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