The Kiss | Something New: An Intro to Audio Snippets
Okay, yall…
It’s Tuesday AKA the Monday sequel.
I’ve had no coffee and I’m trying to remind myself to drink my water and mind my business. I mean, REALLY mind my business.
Seriously…First matter of business today was supposed to be combing through my proofreaders/betas/editors extraordinaire’s notes and making the necessary changes. INSTEAD, I’m sneaking on here to share something new I’ve been dabbling in.
I’ve been playing with the idea of audio for a WHILE. Mostly because these days? I’m always starting up an audiobook or podcast AS SOON as I hop in my Corolla.
And then I had a thought yesterday:
WOULDN’T IT BE COOL TO SHARE SOME AUDIO SNIPPETS OF MY FAVORITE SCENES FROM “THE KISS”??
(That’s supposed to be me, mentally yelling at myself like yesterday)
Well, the yelling worked.
If you read Manhattan Nights novel and twisty brother’s best friend, The Deal, then you saw the Deacon + Kayla’s sweat-inducing Sneak Peek.
I decided to use that Sneak Peek/Scene from THE KISS for an Audio Snippet that I think you’ll appreciate it 🙃
LISTEN to (+ READ) Deacon + Kayla’s very “up-close-and-personal” scene from upcoming release (September 5th!), THE KISS:
KAYLA
I try to slam the door in Deacon’s face, but he catches it, snatching it by its edge with one quick hand.
I turn my back on him, storming farther into the suite, and by the time I make it to the balcony, he’s directly behind me, his footsteps falling in beat with mine.
I spin as he grabs me.
“God, can’t you just leave it alone, Deacon?”
“Leave what alone?” He turns to me, his handsome face a mask of reddened rage. “You can’t even say it, can you?”
“Yes, I can.” I rip my wrist from his tight grasp. “It was a kiss, okay? One. Stupid. Kiss. We’ve known each other all our lives. We work together now, for Chrissakes. And you can’t seem to get that through your thick head, can you?”
“Oh, I get it perfectly fine,” he says, stepping up towards me, towering over me with his broad body, the heat of his skin warming mine. I swallow. “You don’t want to admit it. I get it. But you can’t deny what you felt that night. You can’t deny…” His voice lowers to a slow rumble. “That you wanted it just as much as I did.”
I raise my chin towards him, trying to prevent the damned thing from trembling. I lick my lips. “It was a kiss. Just like I said. Nothing more.”
“Nothing more, huh?” His words are a silken rasp, grating against my skin. “Then prove it. Kiss me right now.” He taps underneath my chin. “Prove to me that you don’t want me. That you’re not wet right now at the thought that I might make you feel something you’ve never felt.”
I don’t say anything, terrified that Deacon can tell. Because he’s right.
God, is he ever right. And I hate for him to know it.
Every damned inch between my legs is damp—soaked because of his words. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, Deacon is every bit of the fucking fantasy he’d been to me at fourteen.
And even better.
The well-muscled body he had as a boy is now bigger—built. A leather-clad Adonis among mere men, my oldest friend in the world is the one fantasy I’ve never fulfilled, the secret dream that’s been dancing somewhere in the back of my mind for over ten years.
And I don’t want him to know it. Wouldn’t dare.
But history has a way of repeating itself, and every protest, every ounce of resistance, releases from my body the second he inches closer, stroking his large fingers underneath my chin, skimming along my jawline.
He lowers his mouth towards mine, kicking out what bit of my defenses are left.
I give in…powerless to do anything else, my heart pumping, sex pulsing as he captures my mouth with his—captivating every single one of my senses.
I’m lost the second it happens.
His kiss is warm to the touch—sensual and soft. His lips are as firm as everything else about him, and they press insistently against my mouth, begging for further access. I part my lips, returning his pressure with my own, and when I do, a small frenzy begins—a stoked fire that refuses to be put out. Deacon angles his mouth against mine, delving deep, inhaling me in, and with every tug of his teeth, every twisted turn of his tongue, I get another taste, another bite, another fill of his deliciously forbidden flavor.
He tastes of broken promises—all the ones I’d ever made to myself. The embodiment of dark daydreams, the man in front of me is everything I want and nothing I need, and yet I crave him all the same.
He crushes his chest into mine, brushing my breasts. The sharp rub of my pebbling nipples against his pecs almost burns, but I welcome it, wanting his touch, practically panting for it as his hands lower, sinking from my shoulders to my hips.
I step into his grip, eager for more.
His fingers float southward, skimming to the apex between my legs, and it is all I can do not to beg, not to cry and plead that he rub me the right way, sink whatever he wants into my aching body. I gasp out loud, my voice a whimper—an utter whine when he retreats.
Right out of my embrace.
Leaving me squirming where I stand, Deacon chuckles, a low sound thundering in his throat. Glint gleaming in his gray eyes, a grin on his lips, he watches me closely, searching my face, his voice a tiny taunt that brings a blush to my cheeks.
He grits a few raspy words.
“You sure about that ‘nothing’?”
