Are you going to kiss me or not? So Hot it's Swoonworthy!

Last Friday I had so much fun with the Book Boyfriends Cafe Hot For Friday blog hop that I decided to play again. The theme for this week is So Hot it's Swoonworthy, and the goal is to highlight a line that really gets you going. There are a dozen authors participating this week. so when you get done with my snippet, jump HERE to check out the rest. Pulses will be raised, I promise!

My snippet's from my novella Between the Sheets. In this scene, Maggie and Randy have gone out for a hike. They've stopped for a rest, and are starting to get to know each other a little bit better...

Randy’s glasses did little to filter the intensity in his gaze, and I reached out, touching his arm where the bottom edge of his tattoo showed beneath his sleeve. “Is this your only tatt?”

The heat in his grin doubled the speed of the low pulsing sound. “Um, no.”

My hand fell to my side as I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, trying for a snappy comeback. Something in my belly was having a little conniption fit. Krista said I should try something new, and Cosmo told me a Sex Diva should be BOLD, be CONFIDENT, be DIRECT. I didn’t always follow others’ advice, but this seemed like a carpe diem kind of moment.

I swallowed hard before I spoke. “Can I see them?” 

“What?”

“Your tattoos.”

The predator returned full strength, and my breath caught on the inhale. 

“Some of them,” he said.

A couple birds zipped across the path behind us, chasing each other through the trees. Randy slowly pulled his shirt off and stretched out in the grass, resting on his elbows. The vine around his upper arm became a powerful dragon and wrapped over his shoulder, its claws holding some kind of knot-work symbol over his heart. My finger traced the pattern in the vine before my brain identified the movement. His skin was soft, warm, and when I added a second finger, he exhaled heavily through his nose. 

I breathed faster, mouth open. Tried to moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. Froze in the heat of his predator’s gaze. 

“It’s not fair,” he said. “I’m half naked, and you’re not.”

He had a point. I shrugged out of my plaid shirt. My hiking shorts were not really Sex Diva wear, but his eyes were fixed on where sweat had stuck my thin tank top to my chest. I rose onto my knees. He stretched further till he was almost lying in the grass. My skin was moist all over, and not just from the hike. 

No acting class anytime, anywhere ever taught anyone how to deal with the palpable energy between us. His smile said come and get it and since we weren’t playing by the rules, I did.

I leaned forward, tensed every muscle for control, and kissed the knot over his heart, making the gesture as delicate as possible. Teasing us both. I planted a hand on either side of his chest. Bold. Confident. Direct.

Melting.

“What’s it mean?” I shifted to lay a fingertip on the symbol I’d just kissed.

He shrugged. “Strength. Power.” He tipped his head up, giving himself a double chin to see where I was pointing. “I fought the dragon and won.”

I crawled over him. He stretched, slow and supple the way a cat does after it’s been asleep for a while, and ended up with his head resting in his hands and his elbows spread wide. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” he asked.

“You’re all laid out like some kind of steamy sexy banquet.”

He chuckled from deep in his belly. “I could say ‘eat me,’ but that would be a pretty painful joke.”
I bent lower, laughing, getting as close to his lips as I could. Rather than kiss him, I stuck out my tongue and licked. 

I mean, a Sex Diva might be bold and all, but teasing was good, too. With a sudden move, he tipped me onto my ass. He got an arm around me and rolled, and before I caught my breath he was the one on top. “Now,” he said, almost a snarl, “are you going to kiss me or not?”

Rubbing my knuckles across the scruff of beard on his chin, I caught the hinge of his glasses and pulled them off. “Sure.”

Blurb

Life for music teacher Maggie Schafer has been full of flat notes lately. Sick of being single and celibate, she vows to get her groove back at the upcoming Western Washington Choral Directors Annual Retreat. 

Too bad the only guy who seems interested is a pompous dork who thinks he’s God’s gift to women—and the music education world. When he gets a little too arrogant and crosses boundaries, gorgeous pianist Randy Devers swoops in to run interference. After sharing a shockingly hot kiss in front of the whole conference, Maggie and Randy come up with a plan to pretend they’re dating.

However, the more time they spend together—and the more physical their “pretend” relationship gets—the more she wonders if there could be anything beyond just smoking chemistry and a friendly agreement between them.

Maggie’s got history, Randy’s got baggage, and they’ve got a weekend to get their rhythms in sync and figure out how to turn their solo lives into a beautiful duet.

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Hmm....I seem to have left off at a bit of a cliffhanger. Does she kiss him, or not? Guess you'll have to check out Between the Sheets to find out. And don't forget to check out all the other Swoonworthy lines in today's hop. Happy Friday!
Cheers,
Liv

Hot Kiss Friday

Chet Baker partly inspired my character Skip.

Every week on Friday, the Book Boyfriends Cafe runs a Hot for Friday meme, and the last Friday of the month the theme is "Hot Kiss". There are a bunch of blogs participating (jump HERE to see the full list), so you'll have plenty of Friday kissing action. The rules don't specify whether it's the characters' first kiss or not, but in this case, it is. This snippet is from my mid-century m/m romance Aqua Follies. Russell & Skip are at a bar that caters to "their kind", and after a long and tortuous delay, things finally heat up...

Blurb

The 1950s. Postwar exuberance. Conformity. Rock and roll. 

Homophobia.

Russell Haunreiter accepts his aunt’s offer of the assistant coach’s job for her water ballet team, and travels with them to Seattle, where they will perform for the Aqua Follies. He’s just along for the ride until the night of the dress rehearsal, when the trumpet player’s solo hits him like a torpedo, blowing apart his carefully reconstructed life.

From the orchestra pit, Skip Johansson watches Poseidon’s younger brother stalk along the pool deck. It never hurts to smile at a man, because who knows what will come of it, so once the last note has been played, he gives it a shot. A flash of panic and heat tells Skip he’s guessed correctly. None of the girls on the team are Russell’s type, but even Skip can’t see the wounds the other man is carrying. 


Seattle may be more open than Russell’s home town of Red Wing, MN, but no place truly welcomes their kind of love. Is the strength of their bond enough to take a chance on a very uncertain future, or will the ghosts of Russell’s past stop them before they get started? 

Harry Connick Jr is also an inspiration for Skip. Because yum.

Hot Kiss

The bartender interrupted Skip to ask if they wanted another round.

“What time is it?” Skip guessed it was close to midnight.

“Half past twelve.” Russell’s eyes were heavy, and Skip’s alarm was going to go off at five o’clock. It was time to move.

“We can sneak out the back,” he said. “It’ll be closer to where we parked the car.”

He hadn’t quite told a lie, but close. They paid for their drinks, and he led Russell toward the back of the narrow room. As soon as they were in the dark hallway, between the tavern and the restroom, he launched himself, forcing Russell against the wall. He gripped his face with both hands, holding him in place.

“Nobody can see,” he murmured, so close the warmth of Russell’s breath moistened his lips, his internal thermostat driven to the red line by all the teasing and flirting.

“Mmm.”

For a screaming instant he almost stopped, afraid of chasing Russell off. The man had been so skittish, so to make his intentions plain, Skip pinned him with his hips. In return, Russell’s hard heat thrust against his thigh. 

“Last chance to stop,” Skip said.

“Oh God.” The words came out in a gasp, and Russell closed the distance between them, meeting Skip’s lips in a soft, tentative brush. 

Skip didn’t need any more of an invitation. He rocked his hips a couple times and dove in, satisfying an urge that had been growing since he’d first seen Russell stalking along the pool deck. 

Russell’s body was solid, his touch was warm, and he tasted of whiskey. His lips softened under the rush of Skip’s kisses. A groan vibrated up from Russell’s belly, and Skip went crazy, both hands gripping the lapels of the other man’s jacket to keep from reaching for his cock. The energy running through him since the gig went off like a match thrown in gasoline. It was hard to breath, hard to stand still. Kissing the gorgeous swimming god took every ounce of his concentration and hardened a harmless flirtation into bone-deep need.

Russell’s lips parted, giving him something new to attend to. He opened up, sliding his tongue along Russell’s lower lip, letting his hands roam over his high cheekbones and close cropped hair. Their tongues tangled. Rough whiskers burned. Russell nipped his lower lip and almost dropped him to his knees.

They didn’t ease off the throttle until someone came looking for the rest room. The man passed them with a murmured, “Careful, boys,” and kept moving. 

Russell jerked, stiffened, and pulled away. Skip rolled to the side so they stood shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the wall and fingers interlaced, their hearts pounding on a backbeat.

“Okay, so this wasn’t my classiest move, dragging you back to the john.” Skip flipped his head to clear the flopping bangs out of his face. “That fellow’s cool, though. He won’t rat on us.”

Russell shook their clasped hands. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

“Yeah, but if Demetrio or the bartender finds us, we’ll be out on our cans.” Reality kept raining down. “I’d bring you home with me tonight, but I have to work early in the morning.”
Russell tipped his head back against the wall and chuckled. “What are we doing here then?”

“I told you. I wanted to spend some time with you.” Skip kissed the back of Russell’s hand. The kiss turned into a caress. 

Russell cleared his throat, more of a grunt, as if he was cramming something down deep. “I’ve got to lead calisthenics at seven in the morning, anyway.” 

Skip knocked him with his shoulder. “Do you have to be coach all the time, or can you break away?”

“Saturday afternoon.”

“It’s a date.”

This one's out on submission, and you will hear it here first when it gets contracted. Happy Friday! Cheers!
Liv

Don't forget to check out the full list of participating blogs on this Hot Friday. And if you want to see more of the pictures that inspired Aqua Follies, check out my Pinterest board HERE.