by Leslie Kelly, author of Hold On, part of the Not Another Blind Date… anthology from Harlequin Blaze (February 2011)
Of all the memorable milestones in a romantic relationship—first meet, first date—I think there’s one stands above the rest: The first kiss.
I will never forget the first time my husband kissed me. We had both been involved in other relationships when we met, so we started strictly with friendship. Okay, very flirtatious friendship, but that was all.
A few months later, we both found ourselves single, and the flirtation went up a notch. But we were still just friends—we had never even gone out on a date, both of us a little gun-shy after bad breakups. Then one night in the theater where we were involved in a play, he just…did it. We were in a darkened dressing room, alone, and without a word, he tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed me, right out of the blue. There was no hesitation, no awkward fumbling. He literally kissed every last thought out of my head.
Now, here we are, twenty-six years later, having been married for nearly twenty-five of those years. We have three daughters, have been incredibly happy, and most of my friends think I’m the luckiest woman in the world.
All from one little kiss.
Believe me, I have taken that life’s lesson to heart and I always remember it when I’m writing. Considering I write for Harlequin’s super-sexy Blaze line, I have written a lot of sensual scenes. I actually find the love scenes the hardest part to write, and that all-important first kiss even more so. I want it to be just right. Because…well, here, let the heroine of my June 2011 Blaze Terms of Surrender tell you. This is right out of that book:
“Kissing?” she murmured, fascinated by the idea.
He nodded once. Then, wordlessly, he leaned across the small table, touching his fingers to her chin to tilt her face up. The briefest of hesitations—to give her a chance to back up a little if she wanted—then he moved his mouth to hers.
Mari’s heart flipped in her chest, she was aware of that much. Then nothing, except the feel of his warm lips against hers, the warmth of his breath flavored with the sweetness and lemon he’d had in his iced tea. It was soft and quiet, tender, maybe a little tentative as they both acknowledged the importance of this moment.
A first kiss was a very important thing. It set a tone, lifted a bar. Mari had walked away from good-looking men who didn’t know how to kiss.
This man did. Oh, God, did he.
See? I am serious about first kisses—they matter.