October 29, 2011 by Anne Tenino
I am lame alert: I forgot to provide a link to Marie’s blog, which is where Saturday Snark originated. I hope she can forgive me… mariesexton.net
I have been remiss in my snark. I’ve had a lot going on, what can I say? But today, my peeps, I have come up with a beaut for you…
This is an excerpt I’ve sort of been saving, because I was afraid it was too long and took too much set-up. But screw it, I love it. This is right before Nik and Jurgen’s first kiss. Jurgen is a tall, blond cop who looks like a god, and Nik thinks Jurgen is some Aryan asshole who’s after him just because Nik is “exotic”.
The first line is Nik’s, since I didn’t write in attribution tags, and you might get confused.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you well enough.”
“After a combined total of fifteen minutes?”
“You have a forceful personality.”
Nik wasn’t the forceful one, here. He shrugged, even though it took effort to make it nonchalant. “I guess it’s better than having none.” Hint, hint.
Guh. He even had sexy teeth. He leaned in to Nik a little. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” He pulled one hand out of a pocket and stroked a dry, slightly rough palm up Nik’s bare forearm.
Instant goosebumps. Nik grit his teeth and locked his spine. He may not be able to tell what color Jurgen’s eyes were, but he could see the mockery in them just fine. Jurgen’s hand stroked slowly up and down his skin, sweeping up to his biceps, down to his elbow, then up over Nik’s sleeve to his deltoid. Jurgen found and followed Nik’s clavicle, under his shirt, with his fingertips. He found more naked skin at the nape of Nik’s neck with his fingers, stroking his thumb back and forth across Nik’s jugular.
Oh, he was so good. “So, why me?” Nik sounded short of breath to himself.
“I kept wondering what you taste like.” Jurgen pulled his other hand out of its pocket, gripping Nik’s waist, hooking a pinky into a belt-loop.
Nik, the big, stupid, hormonally-challenged idiot, swayed into him. “What do you think I’ll taste like?” He planted a palm on Jurgen’s chest. For balance.
“Cinnamon.” Jurgen’s lips were right over his, and Nik could see his eyes trained on them. Up this close, with Jurgen all out of focus, Nik thought maybe his eyes were blue. Typical.
“I bet you taste like wiener-schnitzel,” Nik said against Jurgen’s lips.
Tee-hee-hee. Love that.