First Kiss Friday – Back at Your Door by Jasmine Aherne

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Jasmine Aherne, author of Back At Your Door.  Welcome Jasmine!  Here’s the first kiss between Anton  and Laila.

“Exactly.” Anton reached across the bed and took her hand, entwining their fingers. “I just got my best friend back. I want more, I want more so much it hurts, but I don’t ever want to lose our friendship.”

Laila held his hand tight. “Me, neither. I…” She scooted closer to him, and he broke their hand-hold to put his arm around her. “I don’t want you to just be the rebound guy.”

“Me neither.”

Their faces were very close now. Laila looked up into Anton’s toffee-brown eyes. I want him to kiss me. But hadn’t they just agreed that he shouldn’t be her rebound guy, or anything else, for now?

“Laila…” he breathed her name, and it sounded so sexy in that James-Bond British accent.

She recognised the pause and knew she could back off now, and nothing would happen. She could pull away and make some quip about dinner and then everything would continue as normal.

But she didn’t. As soon as he’d held her hand she’d known something would happen.

Her heart jack-hammering excitedly inside her chest, she closed her eyes.

Anton’s lips brushed hers, so gently, like the caress of butterfly wings. Sensation, heat and desire rushed into her body and she pressed herself against him. She’d craved his kiss for so long that she didn’t think she’d be able to move even if she was being physically pulled away.

She leaned into him, kissing him back, lifting her hand and threading it through his thick, soft dark hair. He smelled of coffee and some spicy, woodsy aftershave. When he touched his tongue to hers, she heard herself moan, encouraging him on.

He deepened the kiss, pressing her closer, his hand stroking up and down her back, sending rivers of sensation snaking all over her skin under the t-shirt she wore.

Laila slid her hand down his neck and on to his chest, feeling his heart beating under her palm. His skin felt warm and she wanted to unbutton his shirt and feel him, skin to skin.

She remembered the times they’d kissed as teenagers, so frantic and exciting. This was different – deeper, more passionate.

Abruptly Anton broke the kiss. “Laila. We shouldn’t.”

But I want to, a little voice inside her clamoured. “I know,” she said instead.

He kept his arm around her, not letting her pull away. “Don’t think I don’t want you. But it wouldn’t be just sex, You know that.”