Kisses from MJ O’Shea and Piper Vaughn, Brindle Chase, Kay Berrisford, Charlie Cochrane and J.A.Rock!

 

UPDATE: 7TH JANUARY 2013. CONTEST NOW CLOSED. THANKS FOR YOUR ENTRIES.

Answer the question after each kiss in the comments below (comments will be screened) for a chance to win a $35 GC and a massive bundle of ebooks, plus a runners up prize of a $10 GC and more lovely books! Find out more about the prizes here. 

You only need to answer ONE set of FIVE questions to enter the draw, but every set you enter gives you another chance of winning this massive prize!

Good luck – and enjoy those kisses! Excerpts are predominatly m/m, but include some m/f and menage – we proudly swing all ways. And remember to check out all the other kisses and chances to win at my co-host Tara Lain’s website. Go there now.
Excerpt One: Lucky Moon 3: Moonstruck by MJ O’Shea and Piper Vaughn.

Buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/authors/l-p/m-j-o-shea-piper-vaughn/lucky-moon-3-moonstruck.html

Em.

He was at the bar with Jesse, smiling at some in-joke. The heat shone off his skin like some kind of gold nimbus. It took every drop of drunken willpower Surya had not to cross the terrace and run his hand down Em’s smooth bare arm. He wanted to. He’d wanted to for weeks. The attraction had crept up slowly—at least his awareness of it. Surya had known all along that he liked to be near Luck’s manager, probably too much. Sometimes he avoided Em just because he wanted to talk to him so much…touch him. Kiss him. Surya wanted to kiss Em most of all. Especially when he looked like he did right then, all loose and glowy and like everything Surya wanted to taste.

Em’s gaze lifted and connected with his. It was heavy lidded, and Surya knew Em couldn’t possibly be sober, but it was inviting too. Bloody hell. They’d always flirted a bit but nothing so blatant. Nothing even close.

Surya stood and walked closer. He was drawn to Em’s skin, the promise of heat, the desire on Em’s face. Em leaned over, kissed Jesse’s cheek, and looked back at Surya before tipping his head toward the exit. Surya nodded.

Am I really going to do this?

Surya didn’t have to think very hard. His body was already moving toward the bar’s exit. He found Em waiting by the elevators. Em didn’t say anything, simply pressed the button to call one down. The time spent waiting was tense. Surya didn’t know what to say. Should he admit that he knew exactly why they were standing there? It seemed like if they did acknowledge it, the spell would be broken and they’d have to stop. Best not to say anything aloud.

The elevator came, and they both stepped on.

“Sur,” Em began as the doors closed, but Surya cut him off. He didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted…

Surya cupped his hand around Em’s neck and pulled. Em came willingly, letting his lips crash against Surya’s, pillowy soft and tropical tasting. The kiss was gorgeous and spine shivering, and why the hell had they waited so long for something this amazing? Surya didn’t want to stop, but they were still in public. He had to stop.

“What were you drinking?” Surya asked with a smile when they pulled apart. “It tastes good.”

Em giggled and laid his forehead right on Surya’s collarbone. “Not sure. Jesse got it for me.”

“Whatever it is, I like it,” Surya said. “Sweet like fruit.” He did like it, and more than just the drink. Whatever Em drank that night had changed him. His natural flirtatiousness had lost its sharp edge and gone all warm and soft and pliant.

“I am sweet and fruity,” Em joked. His head lolled on Surya’s shoulder.

Surya smiled and brought a hand up to cup the back of Em’s head again. “You’re lovely.”

Em looked up. “You want me, don’t you? Just to be clear.”

Images flashed through Surya’s head, fast and hot. Pictures of him and Em naked, locked together, Spanish heat gleaming on their skin.

He skimmed his hand down Em’s arm and tangled their hands together—smooth fingers curling around his own roughened ones, squeezing, testing, unsure but hopeful. Surya’s breath caught on an inhale. Em’s touch had always been enough to make him melt. That night, in the silence of the elevator, with alcohol and the glory of finally thrumming through his body, it was fucking magic.

“Yes,” Surya answered. “Yes.”

QUESTION ONE:  On the way out of the bar, where does Surya find Em?

Excerpt Two: Helena: Gothic City Lights by Brindle Chase

Buy link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/helena-brindle-chase/1108171482?ean=9781611188301

“I don’t want—”

“I’m trying to give you a compliment, woman. Just take the damn money.”

“But I—”

“Oh for the love of Christ,” he said as she stammered out in hesitation. Suddenly he captured her face, tenderly but firmly, in his grasp. He smoothed her cheek with a calloused thumb. Their gazes locked, and he took her lips with his, kissing her deep, rough, and with fiery hunger. Her body went limp, eyes closing. Tingling warmth erupted in the wake of his hands as he slipped them to the back of her neck, and she swore it was the only thing keeping her from falling. The other slid into her panties. She felt the crinkle of money as he replaced the dollars.

She wanted to swat his hand away, but the kiss consumed her. Lips mashing tight, wet, and hungrily, they kissed, and her head swam in confusion. Her skin was on fire as his fingers lingered inside her panties, just brushing the top of her thin strip of hair leading down. An erotic urge pulsed through the haze clouding her mind, wanting to push his hand deeper.

He pulled back, releasing her, and she drew in a deep, sucking breath of air. Her vision blurred, and it felt as if the earth itself swirled around and around. He retreated from her, her skin blazed, and he moved down the alley, leaving her devastated by a cascading wave of emotions and sensations she had never encountered before.

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain,” she said weakly as he drifted down the alley, flashed her a brilliant smile, and disappeared around the corner.

QUESTION TWO: What does he smooth her cheek with? 

Excerpt Three: Simon, Sex, and the Solstice Stone by Kay Berrisford

Buy links here

Aubrey looked to the misted horizon, clenching his jaw against a tremor that shook his body from head to toe. “The power of the Ancients remains alive in this place.”

Simon opened his mouth to snap that he needed a better answer than that, but his words jammed. As Aubrey moved, the lacing that fastened his white shirt fell loose, revealing a physique chiseled to lean perfection by either gym or hard labor, his carved chest adorned with soggy golden curls.

Simon’s throat tightened. So did his groin. Aubrey slid his gaze to Simon and lowered his lashes. He seemed to be begging a silent question, but Simon could not even start to comprehend.

“But let’s forget time tearing,” murmured Aubrey.

He stroked Simon’s sodden brown hair from where it had clumped across his eye, and Simon’s usually sharp mind dissolved to mush. He could hardly remember how to breathe. The man slid featherlight fingertips down Simon’s smoothly shaven cheek, setting his skin aflame and doing nothing to dissipate his growing hard-on. Simon sent a final, desperate message to his fingers to swipe the man away; he needed to say something, anything.

Next thing he knew, the man grabbed him and kissed him hard.

For a blissful moment Simon surrendered, and his senses reeled under the onslaught. Aubrey plundered deep into Simon’s mouth, and Simon slid his tongue against Aubrey’s, hot and slick in contrast to the chill of their skin, willing him to intensify their coupling. Aubrey worked the kiss like his life depended on it, scrubbing his coarse stubble against Simon’s chin. Simon relished the sensation even as the man’s hunger astounded him. Aubrey’s hands trembled as he splayed them across Simon’s back. Then he balled fists in the fabric of Simon’s coat as if he were a drowning mariner grasping a rope from the shore. Their bodies notched together so naturally, and something Aubrey wore—a belt, maybe, concealed beneath his clothes—dug into Simon’s stomach. Simon shifted, looping his arms about the man’s neck, his knee nudging between Aubrey’s. He reveled in the hardness of the man’s thighs, and—oh yes. The length of Aubrey’s cock pressed against Simon’s leg, with only Simon’s tight, wet jeans and Aubrey’s loose clothing between them.

What in heaven, hell, or any realm in between could have possessed this cross between a god and a soggy wolf pup to kiss him? And at a time like this?

QUESTION THREE: What does Simon believe is digging into his stomach?

Excerpt Four: Lessons in Love by Charlie Cochrane

Buy link: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/lessons-love-p-4300.html.

“Your powers of examination show great credit to your academic ability, but must you evaluate everything, Orlando? If you want to kiss me, come over here and do it. If not, I rather think I’d prefer you to leave.”

He shut his eyes, bowing his head onto the ledge, unable to bear the inevitable sight of his friend going through the door.

They’d reached a crux and he was certain he’d mishandled the whole affair. To his great astonishment, he felt his face being lifted by strong hands and lips being lightly pressed to his forehead, to his cheek, his forehead again.

“May I?” Brown eyes looked from blue eyes to red lips, back to blue eyes.

Orlando hadn’t left—perhaps at last he’d realised what he had to do and was determined to see it through.

Jonty’s skin tingled beneath his friend’s fingers. “But of course.” He relaxed again.

Orlando tentatively leaned forward, brushed Jonty’s lips and cheeks with his own. A puzzled expression on his face broke the spell. “I didn’t realise your cheeks would be quite as rough.”

Jonty snorted. “Well what did you expect, Orlando—a baby’s bottom? Shall I go strop my razor and shave?”

He grinned and Orlando smiled shyly in return, looking for all the world like a little boy who’d found a shilling.

“No. It was merely an observation, I don’t find it unpleasant.” Orlando brushed his lips up against Jonty’s again, then drew him into a close embrace.

Jonty drank in the wonderful scents of soap and sweat while Orlando leaned down to make another attempt at a kiss. They were forestalled by loud footsteps and voices outside in the court and then on the stairs.

“If they knock on my door we must pretend not to be here,” Jonty whispered, with something like desperation in his voice. It was too cruel to be interrupted twice running, especially when it had taken so long to break down Orlando’s reserve.

“We can’t, you know. They’ll see the light under the door.” The inevitable knock came. “You must answer.” Orlando took a final, swift embrace. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Jonty ran his fingers down the beloved face of his friend, savouring the smooth skin and tender lips. They broke their hold and Jonty opened the door.

QUESTION FOUR: What does Jonty suggest they do if they hear a knock on the door?

Calling the Show by J.A.Rock. 

Buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/calling-the-show.html

“Let me see.”

Before I could protest, Jesse “Social Skills of a Cornered Wolverine” Ferelit took my chin in one hand and tilted it up. He squinted. “Swelling’s not too bad. Did you ice it right after it happened?”

“Frozen peas.”

He nodded. “Good.”

His fingers were cool on my skin, and his hand smelled like the cheap pink soap from the restrooms.

“You’ve got a bit of a graze—are you keeping it disinfected?”

“Uh, I washed my face this morning.”

He stepped back and went for his SM kit. He returned a moment later, sat beside me, and rolled his chair toward me until our knees touched. He didn’t seem to find this weird at all. I saw an individually wrapped packet in his hand and thought for a wild instant it was one of the condoms.

But it was a sterile wipe.

The smell of alcohol burned my nose as he cupped my chin again and wiped my cheek. It stung a little, but not bad.

I couldn’t get over the fact that he was touching me.

“Pretty sure this isn’t necessary,” I said.

“I’m not taking any chances after Grady.”

I flinched as he pressed harder. “Ow,” I said, even though it didn’t really hurt.

“What happened?” he asked.

Fell down some stairs? Ran into a door? “Brayden Matthews didn’t want to go out with me.”

“He hit you?”

“Um, more like pushed me. And I hit a table.”

Jesse snorted. “He’s a total dick. He called me Faggy Ferelit last year. He said he was joking, but he wasn’t.” He stopped dabbing my cheek. “That didn’t even happen to me in high school.”

He still hadn’t let go of my chin.

“So why’d you tell me to go for it with him?” I asked, glad for a reason to be pissed at someone besides myself.

Jesse shrugged. “You seemed fond of him.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“I do think he’s gay. But apparently he’s the last one to get the memo.”

The sterile wipe was crumpled in Jesse’s fist, which rested on his thigh. His black pants had a little piece of fuzz on them.

“You gonna let go of my chin?” I asked.

“I just…” He leaned forward slightly. Then shied back. “Yeah, your cheek looks better,” he mumbled, releasing me.

I highly doubted it looked better based on a little dabbing.

“What was that?” I asked.

“What?”

I sighed. “Never mind.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Whatever. You’re in theater. You’re eccentric. I get it.”

“For last night. For being such a bastard about the blackout. And for suggesting you go for it with Brayden. If I’d known he’d—yeah. I was an asshole. Sorry.” He paused. “Really.”

Well, all right, Ferelit. Not bad. Between the stammering, the furious flush in his cheeks, the lowered eyes, and the anxiously clenched fists, I’d give it about a 7.5, as apologies went.

“I’m sorry too,” I said. “For causing the blackout.” It was my turn to look away. “And, uh—I didn’t mean what I said about, you know, you being the only bad thing about this experience.” I paused. “Really.”

“Brayden’s worse, huh?”

I laughed. “It’s not that. I just meant you’re not so bad.”

“Thanks.”

He stared at me. I stared back. Then suddenly his hand was on the back of my head, drawing me forward until our lips met.

The kiss was so gentle. That was the only word for it. Not gentle in a boring way. In a way like I never knew anyone was patient enough to spend that much time getting a kiss right.

His lips were soft, and they didn’t close over mine so much as press against them—like we were those two Dutch figures. Then his bottom lip slid under mine and pushed up. He wasn’t a wet kisser, but there were cool traces of saliva on his lips that countered the heat flaring between my legs. His mouth seemed small and delicate.

It was over before I got a chance to figure out how to return a gesture that sweet.

He pulled away, and his blush got so bad he looked like he could use some frozen peas on both cheeks.

We heard footsteps on the stairs. Neither of us said anything.

Audra came in a few seconds later. Jesse left for the costume shop. An hour later, we sat side by side in a dark booth through a two-hour musical, and all I could think was, What a freaking weirdo, and, I hope this freaking weirdo kisses me again.

QUESTION FIVE:  What was crumpled in Jesse’s fist?

***

Please answer the questions in the comments (they will be screened.) Check back soon for more kisses and more chances to win, and remember to check out all the other kisses and questions at my co-host Tara Lain’s website. Go there now.

Access all the other kisses at the New Year’s Kisses archive here.

UPDATE: 7TH JANUARY 2013. CONTEST NOW CLOSED. THANKS FOR YOUR ENTRIES.

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