Best Love Scene

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Author, Blogger, and illustrator with PDMI Publishing Llc. V.L. Jennings' Blog (Speculating Among The Stars) can be found here: www.virginialorijennings.com I am the author of two science fiction books called "The Alien Mind" and "Visionary from the Stars". I love to write and I have been doing so since the sixth grade. I was born in April 1987 in the state of New Hampshire; I was Home Schooled from seventh grade and graduated at 16 with a GED. I now live with my husband and three children in Dillon, South Carolina. You can find me on Google+, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Shelfari, Linkedin, and Pinterest. I love connecting with people! I am readily to answer questions and offer advice and support to new writers.

Posted in Writers/Authors Shorts (no not the clothing kind)
4 comments on “Best Love Scene
  1. It was so hard to find a “clean” love scene. Mine are NEVER specifically descriptive more implied but I did find this and it is one of my favorite scenes from Venomous Lives…. but first a small back story to set the scene. Criss and Juliet are both in 2 of the biggest glam rock bands of the 80s and they were soul mates in every way. They were married and have a child but they divorced because of Criss’ drug habit. They NEVER stopped loving each other.

    Juliet is re-married to the guitarist in a rival band, Wes, but that marriage is on the rocks as well. Wes’ band mates are dating a couple of Juliet’s band mates.

    This scene is the first time in 5 years that Juliet and Criss have been in a private moment together. It is also the first time that Criss has been sober.

    Juliet’s band has been on the road without their children for 6 months. So their manager sets up an impromptu trip to Disney World for them all. All of Juliet’;s band mates, their kids and significant others are there in a huge house that the manager rented together…. including 2 of Wes’ band mates.

    Wes refused to come… worse he refused to allow Juliet’s daughter with him to come. But her sister is the nanny and dating one of Wes’ bandmates so thinking he now had 2 spies in the house, Wes reluctantly agree.

    Criss was told what had happened and out of concern for Juliet, he brought their son. This is the night of their arrival. It is also the first time in 5 years that Criss and Juliet have had family time, a private moment or time to talk without a whole lotta rockstar drama. And so without futher adieu………………………………………………………………………….

    With the kids in bed and the spies removed, everyone else crammed into the living room. Juliet subconsciously sat in front of Criss chair again. Conversations ranged from the tour to politics. Criss legs straddled her, as she leaned against his chair.
    Whenever she was bored, she would lay her head on his knee and he would stroke her hair without even knowing he was doing it. If he was talking, there were times when he would lean forward and his hands would rest on her shoulders. She didn’t realize it and if she did she didn’t care.
    Everything about them was as if they were a couple, a loving happily married couple. It wasn’t two divorced people. It wasn’t two lovers who hadn’t lived together in years. There was no tension over the drugs or the betrayals. There were only two people so in harmony and automatic everyone was jealous.
    When everyone went to bed Criss and Juliet hardly noticed. In fact, Janelle turned on a movie and the four of them watched an hour of it while Juliet’s head rested on Chris’ knee.
    They fell asleep. Rik woke Criss up on his way to bed. Criss nudged Juliet gently with his knee and Juliet sat up to light a cigarette. She sat there silent for a long time. Finally, Criss asked, “What’s up?”
    “Huh,” Juliet replied deep in thought, “Sorry I was thinking.”
    “Bout what punkin,” he asked sweetly.
    She tried not to cry. She knew he hated it but tears began to well in her eyes. She replied “ I missed the kids, you know and …”
    “And Wes,” Criss added.
    Juliet shook her head and stared blankly at the wall. As tears began to fall silently down her cheek, she bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling. She futilely attempted to wipe her eyes and said, “No, I’ve only missed you. Isn’t that awful.”
    Criss scooted onto the floor behind her. He placed his arms over her shoulders and she leaned into him. They sat there silent for a few moments. Criss nestled his nose in her hair and rested his chin gently on her head. She finished her cigarette and said almost inaudibly, “Where’s Bastian”
    “With Erica’s mom” he replied, “I have Bastian with me full time. Erica didn’t even fight for him. She’s back on the drugs and her mom wanted a visit so….”
    Juliet suddenly jumped and half turned to see him, “He sent spies Criss. Spies! On me… its absurd.”
    She turned back around and nestled back in. Criss asked, “Do you know why he did that?”
    “No. It’s stupid really. I guess he’s trying to catch you and me.”
    As she spoke, her voice trailed off in to sleep. Criss didn’t wake her at first then he nudged her gently with his chest. “Punkin,” he said, “Let’s get you to your bed.”
    “No,” she said half awake, “Want to stay here.”
    He smiled. Soon he was also falling asleep listening to the soft rhythmic snore that he found so soothing to his spirit. He caught himself though. He didn’t want Scott or Maverick to find them asleep on the floor in the living room together. He wasn’t sure what Wes was up to, but he knew that it wasn’t good. It probably wouldn’t look right to Luc either. His son always asked him why they didn’t live together and Criss never had a good reason.
    Criss believed that Wes was trying to take Epi away from Juliet. Wes was already referring to the child as ‘his’ not ‘ours’. It was a way of dismissing an unwanted mother. Criss did the same thing to Erica. He didn’t have a choice though. Erica wasn’t a mother. Wes had no reason or for doing it, except one…control.
    Criss picked her up and gently carried her to her bedroom. He thought she was asleep. She knew where she was going. Feelings began to stir that made her toes tingle. He laid her down, covered her up and kissed her head. She opened her eyes and said, “Lay here with me.”
    “No Jules,” Criss objected, “Not with Scott and Mav here.”
    “Please Criss. I don’t want to fall asleep alone again tonight. I am so depressed. I want to kill him. I want my best friend to lay down and talk to me until I fall asleep. You don’t even get under the covers. Just stay for a while.”
    His heart broke. How could he argue with that? It was what he wanted. He would do anything just to be close to her, especially after tonight. He crawled into bed and before he could roll over to spoon against her, she took his shirt off and laid her cheek on his bare chest.
    She traced every tattoo. He had a lot more than when she had last laid her head there. Now, they covered not just his arms, most of his chest and some of his stomach. She wondered if any were for her. She asked about a few. Most were related to his addiction or his art. She left it alone. She wished that he had something on his body that reminded him of the pain he had caused her or more importantly something to represent their love. He knew what she was looking for and it wasn’t the time.
    He knew he had to be careful not to fall asleep, but he couldn’t leave her even after she did. As he started to slide out from underneath her, Juliet’s warm wet tears again began to flow again. He could feel them on his skin. He laid there for an hour rubbing her arm gently and wiping the hair from her face. Gradually he fell asleep too.
    copyright 2010, Publish America, Brandy Potter

  2. This is my favorite love scene. It’s from Mind Over Mind, from DragonMoon books. It’s the first in a trilogy. Mind Over Psyche comes out in September, and I’m writing Mind Over All right now. Ironically, in this last book, Joshua is thinking back to this evening–it’s key to a lot of issues. http://www.amazon.com/Mind-Over-Karina-L-Fabian/dp/1897492367

    Standing in front of the bathroom mirror the next evening, that grin was still on her mind. It was interfering with her ability to concentrate on her make-up, and her guests would soon be.

    Could he have taken her comments as implying a personal interest? Did she want him to? He had a good body—OK, say it girl, a great body—nicely muscled without being overdone, his skin rich and dark and almost glowing in the sun. She shook herself as if to break a spell and, sighing, picked out a lipstick.

    Worst part was, that wasn’t even the most attractive thing about him. If it had been, she‘d have been able to ignore it; she knew plenty of well-built guys. No, what set him apart was the way he looked at her, steady and intently, wholly focused on her.

    It wasn’t just her, she told herself. He treated everyone with that kind of intensity.
    Still, there was something…more…about the way he looked at her. And that smile…

    Stop being silly, she chided herself. He was just flattered. After all, you’re attractive, and young enough for your opinion to matter. She stepped back and appraised herself in the mirror. Her silky black hair was swept up into a neat roll, with a few ends artistically escaping from the top. Into it, she had stuck a couple of black lacquered chopsticks decorated with green dragons. Her make-up, though moderate, was done with effect, with green eyeliner accenting the exotic shape and tilt of her eyes. The jade dragon earrings she’d found at a Renaissance festival adorned her ears. Her black dress had a high collar, and its folds of silk covered her collarbone and draped over her shoulders before plunging daringly to the small of her back, perfectly framing her tattoo. An Oriental dragon of green and gold twisted its way across her back, so that its head rested just over and between her shoulder blades and the tip of its tail curled at the base of her spine. It had taken her forever to find a dress that showed it off to its fullest, and she’d had to run next door to get Cindy to help her with body tape that held it in place, but as she twisted to watch the fabric fall softly around her dragon, she knew it was worth it.

    The dress ended just above the knee. Her silk stockings—the kind with the seam down the back—and the leather heels with the “alligator skin” accents on the toes, finished the ensemble. But tonight was for the dragon.

    It’d been a long time since she’d felt like this: daring, happy. Alive.

    The doorbell rang, and she shoved all the cosmetics into a drawer and hastened out of the bathroom to answer it.

    Despite her suggested “Newport casual,” Joshua was dressed to kill. Above subdued black pants that looked like some kind of soft suede and were cut a little baggier than his usual, he wore a dark, short-sleeved shirt with a reddish-bronze shimmer. Its priest-like collar wouldn’t take a tie; he wore a simple gold chain. He also had a small gold hoop earring in one ear. She could just smell his cologne, something spicy and musky that called her to lean closer.

    She wanted to lean closer. Instead, she said, “Joshua, you’re early.”

    Joshua leaned against the doorframe. He carried a black rectangular case in one hand, and held the other hand behind his back. “I left myself lots of time. Even so, I thought I might be late.”

    “Oh? My directions weren’t clear?”

    “Sure. Mostly. Your highways, on the other hand…”

    Sachiko laughed. “Oh, no! How far did you go?”

    “Not far. But I had to drive over the grass median to turn around, so I spent the next couple of miles watching my rear-view mirror, expecting a cop to flag me down. Speaking of cops, just how many Dunkin’ Donuts are there in Wakefield?”

    Her hands flew to her lips, but she stopped herself before she could touch them and smudge her lipstick. “I didn’t even think! There’s that new one at Tower Hill and Patton, but you were supposed to turn at the next one, on Old Tower Hill. I think Rhode Island has more Dunkin’ Donuts per square mile than any other state in the union. I should have drawn a map. Sorry.”

    “Don’t be. I stopped to check a map, and there’s a cool flower shop that just opened, so…” From behind his back, he pulled out a bouquet of oriental lilies, birds of paradise and red antriums.

    “Joshua, they’re beautiful!” She took them from him, ignoring the thrill that shot through her when their fingers briefly touched. The suspicious part of her said, He gets lost and thinks about buying you flowers? He’s either that sweet or that interested. Despite herself, she knew which option she wanted.

    “They reminded me of you.” He smiled shyly. “Graceful and exotic.”

    She looked at him over the flowers. Their gazes held. That interested. For a moment, she was very sorry she’d invited anyone else. “Come on in. I’ll just put these in some water.” She backed up to let him in, then turned toward the kitchen, giving him a full view of her back. She hadn’t taken a step when she heard a loud THUNK! She glanced coyly over her shoulder. “Yes?”

    Joshua’s keyboard lay leaning against one of his legs. He was staring, open-mouthed. He closed his mouth, opened it again, closed it, then finally burst out, “Tell me it’s real!”
    She tried not to let her swell of satisfaction show. The dress had just paid for itself. “Every painfully inked inch. And?”

    She still had her back to him. His eyes moved over her with a mixture of awe and desire that seemed more suited for the bedroom. Maybe he realized what his face was revealing, for he smiled—an embarrassed, tight-lipped smile—and finally said, “You are full of the most incredible surprises.”

    She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Go put your keyboard in the living room and have something cool to drink! Want a Coke?”

    “Sure. Diet, if you have it. Do you want me to set it up?”

    “If it’ll tuck out of the way somewhere.”
    *
    A couple of minutes later, Joshua was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, a glass of soda in his hands. The flowers were in a crystal vase at the end of the counter, except for one bird of paradise, which Sachiko had cut and placed in her hair. He offered to help, but she refused—the kitchen was her domain. Besides, she decided she liked having the physical barrier of the counter between them until he’d calmed down some. She turned from the stove to catch his gaze flickering over her tattoo, and there was such fire in his eyes.

    She liked that fire, she decided, and the thought unnerved her, and she turned back to the meal until she felt herself calm down as well.

    After a few minutes of comfortable—if electric—silence, he asked, “So, why’d you do it?”

    “The tattoo?” She gave the fish one last turn, then set the pan on a back burner to warm. She’d rehearsed and used a dozen different answers to that question over the years, but she found herself wanting to be a little more honest with him. She wiped her hands with a towel, and pulled the antipasto out of the refrigerator. “I was at a low point in my life. Really low. I’d just gotten out of a horrible relationship with Ra—my ex-boyfriend. I’d done some horrible things, things I never thought I’d do, and I wasn’t even sure why. It was like I didn’t know who I was anymore. I wasn’t sure I ever knew; I was just drifting, doing what others expected of me, being the good nurse, the good student, the good girlfriend. Anyways, I decided it was time to do what I wanted, find out who I was. Explore a little, you know what I mean? See what I thought of my wild side.”

    She set the tray on the counter.

    “I like it.” He snagged an olive and popped it into his mouth.

    “Oh, yeah?” Suddenly, she leaned over the counter. “And just what’s your wild side?” she asked in a low, throaty voice.

    She’d expected to embarrass him. She had a brief image of him choking on his olive. Instead, he chewed slowly, swallowed, then leaned over the counter so that his face was only inches from hers.

    “I meant,” he replied in a similar purr that sent delicious shivers down her spine, “I like yours.”

    “Oh.”

    He leaned closer. She closed her eyes.

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