Hi folks,
Welcome to Blissemas Snogs in the Snow! This is where a bunch of awesome writerly folks are sharing festive snogs from their stories to get you in the holiday mood (and hopefully a sexy mood, too! 😉 ) – so please check out my snog, then scroll down and enter the giveaway, then hop back on over to the main site and check out all the other snogs! Have fun!
My snog is from my M/F erotic romance novella, City Nights: One Night in Budapest. The female character, Hermione, is visiting the Hungarian capital in the winter and it’s cold and snowing. You can’t tell that from the snog, but I promise they’re technically snogging in the snow!
*****
“I will definitely recommend Budapest to people. I must confess, I am only here because I got a good deal, but now my eyes have been well and truly opened. If people are only visiting western European cities, they are seriously missing out. Mind you, they won’t all have such a wonderful tour guide, will they?”
“No,” he replied, slowing the car and pulling over at the side of the road, “they won’t.” Engaging the handbrake and taking the car out of gear, he turned to her with a cheeky grin. “You are very lucky. I don’t take just any girls out for sightseeing trips at midnight.”
Midnight? Shit, he was right, too. A glance at the clock on the car’s dashboard showed it was 23:58. “Wow! I didn’t realise it was that late! Well, they say time flies when you’re having fun.”
Emil nodded, and edged a little closer. “Yes, I think so. And does time also fly when you have the best tour guide on the planet?”
“You’re just fishing for compliments now, Emil,” she shot back with a smile.
“Maybe. Okay, I will settle for a kiss instead, then, if you will let me.”
Let him? Bloody hell, she’d been hoping for a kiss for a good couple of hours, at least. Trying to keep her cool, she bobbed her head up and down. “Yes, Emil, I will let you. I would like it very much, in fact.”
He responded by unclipping his seatbelt, followed by hers. Then, shuffling as close as the centre console would allow, he reached out and slipped his hand gently behind her neck. They’d both removed their hats, scarves and gloves once they got in the car, but his hand was still warm on her skin, sending further heat zinging through her veins.
Slowly, Emil closed the gap between them. Hermione’s heart raced, and by the time their lips actually contacted, it threatened to burst right out of her chest. Fisting her hands briefly to try and get a grip of herself, she then wrapped her arms around Emil’s neck.
His lips were soft and warm, the kiss itself gentle, yet supremely sexy. Emil used just the right amount of tongue—nothing too forceful, or too wet, yet he explored her mouth with a skill and sensuality that made her head spin. His other hand toyed with her hair, sending delicious shivers skittering up and down her spine.
For several long moments, they were lost in each other—their tongues twisting, battling, dancing. Then, before things got too heated, Hermione gently disentangled with a whoosh of breath.
“Phew!” She giggled, and fanned herself exaggeratedly. “That was some kiss, Emil. Look!” She pointed at the windscreen. “We’ve even managed to steam up the windows.”
Even in the dim light cast from streetlamps some metres away, she could see the lust etched onto Emil’s face, and a thrill rushed through her. She felt just the same, felt as though she could clamber right into the backseat of the car and get naked, but she had no intention of doing so. Not when there was a perfectly nice hotel just a few minutes’ car ride away, and the lack of risk of getting caught.
Seeming to shake off his arousal, or at least dampen it down, Emil looked at the windscreen, and laughed. “Yes,” he switched on the ignition and then the heaters, “we have. I had better get rid of that before people think we are up to naughty things in here.”
The tone of his voice told her that he was just as eager to do those “naughty things” as she was, and she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be returning to her hotel room alone that night.
*****
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Happy Reading,
Lucy x
I was a selfish git, yes, but it’s how I was when a woman got under my skin.
I look around, half-expecting to see an angry husband chasing after her, or maybe even a shopkeeper. She could be a thief. Glancing at her again, I realize that can’t possibly be the case, unless she’s stolen something invisible. All she has are the clothes on her back.
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