Pucker up! It's International Kissing Day...
In honor of International Kissing Day, I'm revisiting my Jamie and Claire's first kiss. More CITD coming soon.
(This is not a preview of a new chapter ... just a little chunk from Chapter 18)
Jamie was watching her intently.
“And there you have my sad little dating life, in a nutshell. A university lecturer with two teenagers isn’t exactly the most desirable image, ye ken.” She teasingly borrowed one of his expressions, and he smiled.
“You’ve got to be joking Claire. You are the sexiest woman I know, and I’m not one given to flattery. Teasing and playing around, yes, but not mindless flattery. You are intimidatingly intelligent. Do you know how sexy that is? And you are beautiful, Claire. In every way.”
She plucked at a thread on the blanket, still gazing at the sky. Compliments made her so uncomfortable.
“Full disclosure, Claire - when Milo told me he was introducing me to my neighbor to talk about the property, he gave me the basics. Associate professor, widow, two teenagers, a 'proper English accent', as he described it. I was expecting a slightly younger version of Helen Mirren - and know that I love Helen and think she’s a classy, beautiful woman. But that was the image I had of the neighbor I was going to meet with Milo. When he first pulled up at your front porch with me in the car and I saw you standing there, I said, ‘I thought you told me the kids were out of town!'. He fell about laughing right there in the car, and told me ‘The kids are indeed out of town. That’s potentially your new neighbor. I think you’ll find that she’s pretty extraordinary.' And he wasn't wrong.”
Jamie rolled onto his side to look at her, propping himself up on one forearm.
“And then you came around to the front of the car and I saw you up close. I saw your eyes for the first time. Christ, Claire! Did you know yer eyes are the color of whisky? And sunrise?”
She turned her head to look at him and giggled. “Well I’ve heard them described as honey-colored, or amber, or sometimes tiger-eyes, but leave it to a Scot to say they’re like whisky!”
He smiled at that and they held each other’s gaze, suspended in timelessness, neither willing to break the spell. Jamie rolled over a little more, bringing his body closer to hers. She could feel the heat off his chest and she could smell the subtle spice of his shower gel on his skin. Before she even realized what was happening, he was gently tucking her hair behind her ear. He curled a tendril around his finger.
“You have no idea how stunning you are.”
Her butterflies were suddenly on high alert. He was sober. She was sober. Whatever was about to happen here could not be explained away by alcohol. And no matter how much they had tried to self-talk themselves into fighting the attraction, and to find every logical reason why it would be a mistake to surrender to the desire and the hunger, and to keep the relationship on an even keel, to try being just friends and neighbors - they kept failing dismally. If the intense emotional connection they had was ‘not usual’, then the insane sexual chemistry that accompanied it threatened to overwhelm them completely.
He released her curl and his finger traced a lazy path behind her ear, around her neck, and along her collarbone. Then he lowered his head, and his lips traced the same path in a series of tender kisses. She moaned and gasped softly and felt his mouth smile into the little spaces around her neck. His scruff tickled her lightly, driving her mad with desire. He had zeroed in on one of her most sensitive areas and he knew it. He tilted her head back a little to expose more of her neck, and lay down a new path of kisses and tiny licks in every shallow little groove he could find. He nibbled and licked and kissed, until she could stand it no longer.
Having teased her mercilessly, thoroughly kissing and nibbling every available inch of her neck, he focused his attention back on her face. He moved to position himself over her body, one forearm on either side of her head. She parted her legs, allowing him to move into the space between them. Bringing her knees up a little, she tilted her pelvis into a more comfortable position, which also meant they were groin to groin. She brushed her fingertips lightly over his scruff, gaze locked with his. Her palm rested on his jawline and she caressed his face with her thumb, relishing the bristly softness. Moving both her hands around his back, she slid them under his shirt and felt his warm, bare skin under her fingertips. His back muscles rippled slightly as he adjusted his position to lift some of his weight off her breasts. She felt the tingly warmth between her legs at the same time that she felt Jamie’s growing arousal pressing into her groin.
“Close yer eyes, mo leannan.” She didn't understand the Gaelic term, but it sounded so sweet, so loving, that she melted even more under his warmth. He gently kissed her eyelid and traced a path of kisses to her ear, down her cheek and along her jawline, kissing all the way across, up her other cheek and finally kissing her other eyelid. She opened her eyes and gazed into the deep blue of his eyes.
His mouth hovered inches above hers, his breath fanning her lips.
He didn’t finish what he was going to say. Instead, he lowered his lips to hers and left tiny, delicate kisses all the way across her lower lip. He pressed his mouth over hers and breathed something in Gaelic on her lips. His breath was warm and she knew he would taste of the mimosas they had shared. She parted her lips and the tip of her tongue brushed along his lower lip. Her hands now out from under his shirt, she cradled his face and her lips traced a path of soft, dewy kisses along his upper lip.
A low groan escaped his mouth and he moved his lips over hers again, gently pushing them open with his tongue. He pulled back almost immediately and feathered more soft kisses on her lips, raining them down gently but firmly. His tongue pushed in between her lips again, and the tip of her tongue reached for his, but he teased it back and tugged her lower lip tenderly between his lips. She was achingly aroused now, her body wanting so much more than he was giving her. She tried to suppress her little pants and sighs, but he heard all of them, and each one went to the core of his own arousal. Her hips started to move infinitesimally against his groin and she felt his erection against her lower abdomen. He couldn’t hold back another deep moan as her hips moved against his. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes and then brought his mouth down firmly on hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth, exploring hungrily, greedily, fiercely. She tasted of cinnamon and berries and celebratory macarons. She responded to his kiss with the same feverish intensity; her tongue caressing his, his tongue stroking hers. He tasted of mimosas and strawberries. Their kiss deepened and everything else fell away around them. The trees, the birds, the hard ground beneath them - nothing existed but the warmth and taste and feel of each other. Their bodies were in perfect alignment, hip to hip, chest to chest; and their lips met in an exquisite union of softness and fullness - at times seeking, at times yielding. When they broke apart, breathless, but still desperate for each other’s mouths, she reached up to touch his face again. Their gazes locked ... amber and azure, whisky and ocean ... each wanting to drown in the other, to stay in this moment as long as possible. Their first kiss.
“Claire,” he whispered, “Christ -“
“Shhhhh ...” She touched her finger to his lips. “Just kiss me.”
The rest of the fic can be found here.
