First Kisses, and Kisses that Count

"There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C. ... (before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy...Well, this one left them all behind." ~ The Princess Bride

So, we're talking kisses… the good, the bad, the most memorable.

Call me old fashioned, but I can't confess to having a whole lot of experience with different kisses with different people. I fell in love young, fell in love quick, and fell in love completely. I didn't have to keep trying. But, for the sake of conversation, I'm going to talk about three 'first kisses' for me.

My first 'kiss' from a boy was in second grade, and Brent Mack stole a kiss on the playground. I got mad at him, pushed him, and took back my big blue marble and walked away. (We were playing marbles). That was the extent of it. Barely memorable other than I managed to save my marbles. Sorry, Brent. (Since there's a chance he might read this... I'm just putting that out there. )

My second 'kiss' was when I was sixteen, and a boy at church whom I'd been spending time with asked for a kiss. It was sloppy, poorly executed, and the last one he got from me.

My third 'kiss' was the only one that matters.

I was in college, and had been spending a lot of time with this boy named Patrick Delaney I met in Algebra class. We'd spent time in groups, we'd studied together, and we'd spent a lot of time talking. We'd even graduated to holding hands. In truth, I'd seen him the first day of school and even pointed him out to my mother. She and I had this game we called "Beep". If one of us saw a cutie, we would say "beep" and the other would have to find him. I "beeped" Patrick to my mother. Months later, after we started seeing each other, that's how I told my mother who he was. "Mama, remember that boy I beeped to you?"

The first kiss with Patrick wasn't the first one he tried, but it seemed he was thwarted with each effort. You know how in the romance novels, the couple looks into each other's eyes and there's that "click"? They lean in… lips almost touch… and they're interrupted JUST before that magical moment? Yeah… that was us.

Kind of made it fun… would he succeed this time?

A bunch of us had gone to the movies… Friday the 13th Part Gazillion or something… and after the movies we all went to Clarendon Gorge near the campus. This is a beautiful park you have to reach by crossing a suspension bridge. NOT easy for me. I was always terrified. Still would be if asked to cross that bridge again. Patrick usually had to coax me across, because I seriously was petrified. (Look at that view... seriously... if you're not scared, you're dead) But, on the other side was a gorgeous wooded area, and down the path you reached a river. Once we got there everyone kind of disbursed. I have very poor vision, even when I was nineteen, and seeing at night is an exceptional challenge for me, so I didn't want to walk around in the dark even though the moon was bright. Just not bright enough for me.

So, Patrick and I made our way to sit on this large, flat rock on the edge of the water. It was gorgeous. The sky was bright. The moon was big. It was cool but not cold (early October in Vermont). Just right for sitting close. The water was trickling by. We sat on the rock talking and holding hands for a long time… and then he kissed me.

And that was it. I was done. Call it overly-romantic (Hello! I'm a romance author!), call it naïve youth, call it whatever you want, but at that moment I knew he was the last person I would need to kiss. I'd found the right one.

We will celebrate our 20th year of marriage next month. So, I guess I was right.

First Kiss: Rinny and Danny

Alrighty, here's my first contribution to the smooch-a-rama fest! Valentines is for romance, love, and, well, all things smooshy. Unless you're a gangster. Then it's about blood and massacre and all things bloody...

...Any-who. I was going to do the First Kiss post with the first Telomere Trilogy book, Revelations of Tomorrow, but Jetta and Galvin's kiss was not very valentine-sy. So, I thought I'd call back to my first SFR release, Duty and Devotion.

Sitting down to her music, Rinny meditated a few moments on her mood: upbeat and romantic. She pulled up a retro-romanticism Mendelssohn composition, one full of drama and energy. The notes flowed from her lips easier than any words ever could. All the passion and sensuality she buried during her average day released through her body and out the trumpet. Rinny reached for a depth of emotion and innermost truth through the composer's musical elements and harmonies.

On the last note, she relaxed in her chair and enjoyed the moment of accomplishment. She'd booked the room for two hours. It was a great space in the arts and entertainment wing, which used to be part of the civilian city. Since it was a temporary take-over, the militia left it as-is. The owners continued to run it for soldiers off-duty.

She caught sight of Lieutenant Gubvre through the glass wall. He gestured to the handle with an inquisitive expression. She set the trumpet down on its holder and waved him in.

"You and I shouldn't keep meeting like this," she joked.

He smiled and shrugged, then clasped his hands behind him. She realized this was a habit of his and for some reason it was appealing. The height of him was refreshing to someone who was always taller than everyone. From her sitting position, the feeling was exaggerated. By his posture, she could tell he came from an upper class family. Not from the Earth region, like her, but somewhere more exotic by his accent. Possibly the Saturn Rings.

"Yes. Well, I was passing through to see the painters and spotted you." He released a hand long enough to gesture towards the music sheets. "I didn't realize you played. You do it well."

A sound proof room, he wouldn't have heard her. Rinny patted the chair next to her. After he sat, she picked up the trumpet, pressed for another musical piece, and started to perform. Within the first few bars she closed her eyes and continued. She relished the feeling of power that rose in her as she made what so many couldn't. Felt from it what so many weren't able to. The notes created a whole world just for her and a select few. She'd loved playing in the concert group and suddenly realized she'd missed it.

Halfway through she stopped, opened her eyes, and grinned at him. It died on her lips. The intensity in his eyes flared the heat in her system. She lost her breath as his gaze dipped to her lips and then back at her eyes.

"Don't stop," he whispered. "Please."

Unable to trust her words, she picked the song up again. She closed her eyes once more, but this time to keep her concentration. His gaze unnerved her, sending the attraction she felt into overdrive. She felt him draw his chair closer, his knee lightly tap hers. Only years of experience enabled her to finish the song. For a moment, she kept her eyes closed.

They fluttered open when his fingers grazed along the side of her face. Her breath caught and started again, more shallow. His touch stopped at her chin before sliding beneath her hair to grasp her nape. He skimmed his gaze over her hair, her face, her eyes, then at her mouth before drawing in. The kiss was soft, exploring, and perfect. Rinny let the breath seep out as she leaned in and it deepened. Then it was over and he stood.

First Kiss: Michael and Jacqueline

For my contribution to the 'first kiss' contest, I bring you Michael Tanner and Jacqueline Anderson of The Phoenix Rebellion Book Four: End Game. Michael takes everything slow, for reasons you won't understand without reading, but you should also know Jackie isn't quite so slow moving. :-) They met in Book Two: Outcasts, so it took awhile to get here. Enjoy...

"Michael, am I alone here?" Her voice was rough and whispered near his ear.

He scowled, pulling back to study her face. "I'm here."

She shifted her hands across the back of his neck and shoulders to rest above his elbows. He let his palms slide naturally to her back again, splaying over her warm skin. A voice in the back of his mind told him he should take his hands away. To touch her skin-to-skin -- as her caregiver -- was acceptable. But, at this moment, he felt as far from her doctor as he could be.

"Trust me, there is no doubt in my mind just how here you are. What I mean is... am I alone with just how nuts it makes me to have you this close? Touching me?"

Michael swallowed, watching the small dimple that threatened to appear in her cheek each time her lips curled up in a smile. He compulsively tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer, and her eyelids slid heavily over her eyes.

"No," he finally managed to say through the desert in his throat.

"Are you planning on doing anything about it any time soon?"

He slid his hand along her spine, the hem of her sweater slipping up her stomach. Her muscles slowly rolled beneath his touch. She sighed, her head tipping back slightly and Michael watched, mesmerized. The arch of her neck was beautiful, and the flash of desire to press his mouth to her skin surprised and shook him. His blood hummed just beneath the surface of his skin, and the layers of clothing he wore in defense against the drafts and chill in the old building now smothered him.

Without making the conscious decision to do it, Michael leaned into to her, speaking close to her cheek. "What do you want me to do?"

Her breath skimmed his skin and her lips parted, dark eyes watching him. "That's a loaded question."

"Tell me."

"Kissing me might be a good start."

Michael pulled one hand free from its warm place beneath her sweater to lay his palm against her cheek. His lungs burned and he carefully schooled each breath, his heart pounding hard, rushing blood hot and thick through his veins. He touched her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, and she parted them, her breath warming his skin. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the glistening smoothness on the inside of her lip and the tip of her tongue as it moistened her skin, brushing his thumb.

The need to follow her tongue and taste her crashed into him, and he lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips brushed along each other, open and slick, and her soft moan whispered between them. Michael hovered over her, matching her movements as she tipped her chin, letting their breath mingle together. He still needed to taste her, to know the feel of her wet lips. Slowly, he slid his tongue against her lips, her teeth and finally her own tongue, and pure energy vibrated through him.

He pushed his fingers into her hair, the silken threads weaving around his hand, as he tilted her head and let the power of the jolt reverberate from head to toe. Her hands curled into his shirt and he pulled her harder against him, the need to be careful a persistent whisper in the back of his mind. The slow, learning kiss catapulted into a devouring need.

Only when the demand for oxygen overpowered the furor did Michael break the contact, pulling deep breaths of air into his burning lungs as he rested his forehead against hers. A small tremor shifted through her and he pulled her closer, once again sliding both hands beneath the sweater to touch her skin.

Her skin.

Silk and satin and heat.

Michael swallowed his groan.

"Damn," Jacqueline finally said, breaking the sound of their rasped and out-of-sync breathing. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Michael shook his head, letting his forehead roll against hers. He couldn't form a thought, let alone an answer, and pulled her closer. He wanted to kiss her again, wanted it as much as he wanted to live, but didn't trust himself to do it. His body screamed for more. Screamed too loud and too hard to be ignored.

He pulled her closer and pressed his face into the fragrant curve of her throat.

Read more about The Phoenix Rebellion at my website.