First Kiss Friday
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Every Friday I share the first kiss from a book. This week it’s The Humor of Love by Ida Duque.
Second chance book about two people that work in higher education.
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We’re a mere foot away from each other. I’m hyper-aware of how close he is when his earthy smell hits me.
A tiny whiff.
That’s all it takes. My eyes close and my body begs to touch him. My heart pounds as I look up to beautiful coppery eyes staring back at me. I glance at his lips. Without touching me, he bends his head a tiny bit and kisses my cheek. I untangle my hands and instinctively touch his forearms.
He doesn’t move. Instead, he rests his head on my temple. “You’re killing me. I like you so much,” he confesses, and my heart stops.
“I know you do. I kind of liked you too. I’m sorry.”
He takes a deep breath and after a few seconds, moves his head back, but his body stays in place. “Why do you keep apologizing? You have done nothing wrong. We can’t help how we feel. Don’t apologize for being honest.”
Except now I’m holding on to his forearms. I can’t bring myself to let go.
He glances down at our connected arms. “Gabby?” I mean to push him away. I really do.
Definitely sending mixed signals. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know what the signal is. At this rate, I might need a communication satellite.
After a few seconds, he turns his head slightly. His lips come down on mine with a couple of quick, gentle kisses. His lips are full and smooth, his touch electric. I open my eyes and look at him. My first thought is, what the hell am I doing? The second, immediately after, please keep going.
Long fingers wrap around my neck, taking my hands with them. My thumbs caress his wrists. We’re both speechless.
When the tip of his nose gently caresses the tip of mine, my breath hitches. His thumbs rest on my jawbone and his eyes close, and for a second, I wonder if my knees will hold me up. My eyes close of their own accord, and my hands release his forearms and grab on to his t-shirt.
He kisses me again, with more intention this time, and my heart races. What starts off slow transforms into a deep, passionate kiss.
Like a wave, it all comes back to me. A kiss at sunset.
A year ago, I felt it.
This energy between us. Three dates and one kiss and I knew he was different.
I got fired shortly after, and I figured maybe someone was sending me a message. Now it makes sense. The universe was letting me know he was special, and not in a murdery-type way.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. Our bodies touch, and our hearts beat the same rhythm. One of my hands wraps around his waist and the other touches his handsome face. Finally. I cradle his neck, and time stands still while we kiss.
Wow.
“Wow.” He repeats my thought after a few minutes, and my eyes fly open.
He rests his forehead on mine, and his eyes close. We’re still holding each other when he opens them and stares longingly at me.
He’s serious as he says, “As I said, there’s something here. I’m not going to make you do anything, but I hope you can see that. If not, I might have to hit you with the literal block to the head.”
“Now who’s sending mixed signals?” I move my head back and look at him. “Wait, is that a literal block or a metaphorical block?”
A lazy grin slowly breaks over his face. “Actually, in this case, I think it’ll be a pillow. A pillow on a very comfortable bed,” he says in a sexy whisper before he gives me a gentle kiss on the neck.
Ellen Mint 