The First 100 Kisses: Practice Makes Perfect

by Danielle Bannister

  “Yes, that’s probably bad,” he said, though the conviction of his statement wasn’t as strong as I would have imagined. Could it be he was enjoying this? No. He was in agony. He hated doing this. He hated doing this with me. Focus, Chloe. You are helping a friend. Don’t read into this.

  I ran a few soft kisses down his neck to force the devil off my shoulder. He, likely unknowingly, turned his head, allowing me full access to his neck. This was definitely a hot spot for him. Good to remember.

  “The shift of position can happen fast, too…” I placed my hands on his chest and gave him a slight push. It took extraordinarily little effort to press him into laying down on the couch. From there, I straddled his hips. I’d taken the power position on top. Lowering myself down, I hovered over his lips. “And once you’re laying down, you’re that much closer to having sex.”

  He sat up abruptly then, pushing me off him. I laughed because I anticipated his reaction. I knew he wouldn’t feel comfortable there long. Once I was off him he escaped the couch and began to pace.

  “But that’s not what we’re doing now, correct? We’re just kissing.”

  I laughed again. He was so adorable when he was flustered. “No. I am not going to have sex with you, Liam. That is not what we are doing. I was just warning you that if Angel gets you on your back, start thinking of an escape plan that won’t hurt her feelings.”

  He considered that as he ran his hand over his jaw. He’d been clean shaven this morning, but now he was showing some shadow and it was ridiculously sexy. It would make kissing him extra prickly, but it was one of those things. Some women hated that sandpaper feeling, others were turned on by it. I, being the glutton that I am, liked a rough jaw line, which did not bode well for me in this heavy petting session. I don’t think he realized just how hard this was going to be for me as well. Still, I didn’t want to force him into anything he was uncomfortable with.

  “Liam. Sit. Let’s talk.”

  We weren’t going to get anywhere until we broke past the wall he was hiding behind. After a moment, he came to sit by me, but kept a wide berth between us.

  “Liam, am I pushing you too far? Because we don’t have to do this. Anytime you want to stop, we stop. I’m not trying to scare you or be mean to you. I’m doing it because you asked me to. But…if now that you’re in the thick of it, it’s too much, that’s fine. We don’t have to kiss ever again. I don’t want to risk our friendship over this. It’s too important.” He was painfully quiet, and it made me scared. Was it too late? Had I already ruined our friendship? “Talk to me.”

  “I want to do this…I just…” His hands covered his face as he rubbed away the stress. “I’m just overwhelmed. This is a lot to take on, mentally and physically. I didn’t realize how challenging this would be. It looks so effortless when other people do it.”

  “Yes, well it isn’t. It can be messy, noisy, you can miss your mark, come in too hard or too soft.”

  “So I’m learning,” he groaned.

  I smiled. “But that’s what this is, Liam. Practice. And you have already come so far. Are your lips still too firm sometimes? Yes, but I know it’s because you’re in your head. When you get out of it, your lips turn so soft and warm. Your hands take charge and you’re no longer timid. When you let your body lead, you knock it out of the park. Those are the moves Angel is going to want more of.”

  “Less brain, more body,” he chanted.

  “Yes. In this, your testosterone can guide you. That hormone knows what it wants. Trust that a little more, but also be aware that you are in control when things go too far. Your body puts on the gas, but your brain pushes the brakes. I think what might work for us, for our purposes…is something to put on those breaks for you. A safe word.”

  Liam blinked at me. “A safe word? Like they use in 50 Shades of Grey?” I could hear the hysteria building in his voice.

  “Yes, but not a pain threshold word, and no, I don’t have a red room of pain. Most people don’t, and before it crosses your mind, I highly doubt Angel does either. I’m talking about a word that if you feel like the penis is taking over and is about to cross a line you’re not ready for, you say the word, and I stop whatever I’m doing to you. No questions asked. No shame, just a stop of action to give you back control.”

  “You mean instead of me shoving you off me and causing you further bodily harm?”

  “That would be preferable, yes.”

  He pondered the idea for a moment before he spoke.

  “What word should we use?”

  Smiling, I eased my back into the couch. If he was willing to choose a word, that meant we could move forward. And I’d get to feel his lips on me again. “Well, it should be something that isn’t likely to come up during our sessions.”

  “What about Sassenach?” he said, mimicking Jamie’s voice from Outlander complete in a full Scottish accent.

  I shook my head vehemently. “Um, no. Just you saying that word…in that accent, makes me want to fuck you hard,” That confession seemed to shock Liam, so I clarified, “When you say Sassenach to a woman who is an Outlander fan, you are basically playing into the fantasy that you are Jamie and she is Claire, which is not the message we want to send here. So, no. Definitely not that word.”

  “Different word. Noted,” he said with what could have been a smirk. “Your turn to try a word.”

  I looked around the apartment, trying to find a boring word. I landed on my fruit bowl.

  “Banana.”

  “Banana?” he echoed.

  I nodded. “Yep. If either of us say banana, it means our libido wants to take the lead, so we need to cool off.”

  “Our libido?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, our. You aren’t the only person getting kissed, you know. My body responds to physical touch just like the next person. And it’s been awhile since I’ve been intimate. My hormones kick in just like yours do when sucking face.” I huffed.

  “That’s not true. You go out all the time,” Liam said.

  “I go to work all the time, Liam. Or out with friends. Female friends. I haven’t been on a date in…a while.”

  “How long is a while?”

  I rolled my eyes. This was none of his business, but I knew he was going to harp on this until I answered him.

  “My last date was like six months ago…and it wasn’t good.” I sighed thinking about Damon. What an awful, horrific mistake that was. That’s when I learned it was a bad idea to drink and date. And worse, to have a fuck buddy. “What I’m trying to say, is that this is just as challenging for me as it is for you. The body doesn’t care that we’re best friends. It just feels lips on lips, hands on breasts and it responds.”

  My cheeks felt flush saying so, but he had to know that he wasn’t the only one going through…feelings, whatever these were. This was a two-way street. Having a safe word was probably something we should have had from the start. Might have saved me some pain, literally.

  “Thank you for telling me that, Chloe.” Liam said after a moment. “It actually helps me feel less awkward about this. Knowing I’m not the only one struggling.”

  “You’re not. Not even a little, okay? That safe word isn’t just for you. I reserve full rights to use it, too. If I say, ‘Banana’ you have to stop whatever it is you’re doing to me as well. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “I think we should practice saying it.”

  “Banana,” Liam said.

  “No, silly,” I laughed. “In the moment. Like I’ll do something to you that will drive you close to your edge and you call out the safe word and vice versa.”

  “Okay...” he seemed unsure.

  “So, what have I done to you, so far, that got a fast rise out of you, so to speak?”

  He flushed.

  “Was it this?” I asked, getting up off the couch and straddling him again. My lips went to his left earlobe, licking and tugging it softly with my teeth. His hands found their way to my waist. I could fee
l them digging into me.

  “Banana,” he whispered.

  I laughed and rolled off him.

  “I knew it,” I said, delighted I’d find his weak spot so early.

  “Your turn,” he growled. He fucking growled. Holy shit that was sexy.

  His lips found mine and he kissed me hard. He seemed to remember my note about his firm lips because they went super soft under mine. Much better. His left hand found my right breast. I knew what he was going to do. He was going for the nipple rub, which would be against the under the clothes rule and send me over the edge; and that little fucker knew it.

  “Banana!” I shrieked.

  He stopped and pulled back. The grin on his face gave away how pleased he was with himself.

  “That is cheating,” I said.

  “How so?” he asked, clearly offended.

  “You were going for the nipple. This session is over the clothes only, mister!”

  His smile widened. “Actually, I wasn’t going for the…um…nipple, but good to know. For future reference.”

  I crossed my arms. “Fine. What were you going to do then?” I challenged.

  “You stopped me before I had the chance to show you.”

  It was me grinding my teeth this time.

  “Alright. Bring it,” I said, unamused. He was such a little liar. He was going for the nipple and now he was backtracking. I’d love to see what move he was going to come up with to thwart that one.

  Clearing his throat, he made his second approach. I closed my eyes, waiting to be wowed. The kiss started as before. Fast and furious as I had been. I had to give him credit, he was starting to understand how much pressure to apply. We hadn’t knocked teeth once since coming back from lunch. He still wasn’t very liberal with his tongue action, but I could see him experimenting. I was all for that kind of exploration, so I tried to be as receptive as I could when he made his attempts.

  I was about to compliment him on this when his hand went for the boob again. I waited patiently for the nipple flick, so I could cuss him out, but he surprised me. He only grazed the side of my breast with his thumb, causing my nipple to peak under my clothes. Asshat. But then his hand went around my back and up to the nape of my neck. Shit. He was going for the hair.

  His fingers dug into the back of my hair, and he pulled my head back, not so hard to hurt, but hard enough to know he was in charge. Jesus, that was hot. His lips made their way down to my neck. I moaned and arched against his lips, hot against my neck. God damn him.

  “Banana!” I shouted, pushing him off me.

  Liam didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. He knew he’d gotten me. I was flush, and my heart was racing.

  “I think we’ve practiced the safe word enough,” I said. “Now, we get down to the serious make out session.” Wanting to wipe that smug look off his face. “Let’s see whose restraint holds out longest, shall we?” I said with full knowledge that he was going to cave first.

  “Bring it,” he grinned, using my own term against me.

  Oh, I was so gonna bring it.

  I was just about to pounce on Liam to give him the ultimate test of his restraint when his cell vibrated on the table. I was prepared to ignore it, but he hopped off the couch to grab it. Granted, he rarely got text messages from people other than me, so it could only be Angel. I sighed. So much for getting in some play time.

  I watched as he read the message. Whatever she texted him, it had him upset.

  “What happened, did she cancel?” I asked.

  His back was to me, but I could read his body language. Something was wrong. Liam didn’t move, he just stood there, staring at his phone.

  “Liam? What is it?”

  For a moment he didn’t answer, but then, he turned around and brought the phone over to me. I took the phone and read the text aloud: “I’m waiting for a shirtless shot back, mister. Fair is fair.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I’d probably have said the same thing. Still…

  “Wow. She’s definitely not the shy, virginal girl you once knew.” She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. I didn’t say it, but this might throw a huge wrench into our plan of deflecting a first date screw. I’m not sure Angel was going to be the sort of woman to respect Liam’s boundaries. She was strong. She could manipulate him into going past his comfort level.

  “What do I tell her?” Liam said, he had gone over to look out window.

  “Well, the easiest thing to do would be to snap a quick shot of your chest and be done with it.” His shoulders tightened again. “But clearly, you have an issue with that.”

  He lowered his head and sighed, still with his back to me.

  “There is a reason you’ve never seen me without a shirt in the summertime, Chloe.”

  That was true. I hadn’t ever seen him without his shirt on. The closest he came to shirtless was a tank. I never said anything because I thought he was simply a prude. I never expected vanity to be reason behind it.

  “Wait. Are you ashamed of your body?” I stood up. “I know I’ve never seen your chest, but I’ve felt it, and I can assure you, she is going to love your body, Liam.”

  It was so bizarre having a body-image conversation with a guy.

  His shoulders slumped.

  “No. It’s not that,” he whispered.

  “Show me,” I said. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad.

  He turned around and shook his head. “No. I don’t show anyone this.”

  He was holding something back. Some secret. We told each other everything…or I thought we did. I went over to him and gently took hold of both shoulders and shook him gently, so he’d look at me.

  “Liam. I am your best friend. I am working with you to help land this girl. I need to know what we’re up against here. If you are all Quasimodo under there, then I need to know so we can work on moves that will avoid that area.”

  “Let’s just do that. Work on moves to avoid taking off my shirt.”

  I laughed. “No. Let me see it. I’m sure whatever it is, that it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

  “I’m telling you it is,” he muttered, but there was a permission in his tone.

  “Let me be the judge of that. You know I’ll be honest, right?” I locked eyes on him and saw him weaken against my request.

  “Fine.” He went to pull his shirt up, but I stopped his hand.

  “No. Let me do it. It can be part of your training.”

  He tensed again.

  “Relax, bonehead. Pretend I’m Angel.” I spun him around so that his back was facing me again, sensing it might be easier for him to reveal the front of him slower. Reaching to his waist, I lifted the corners of his shirt. His hand flew down on mine, stopping me.

  “It’s okay, Liam. It’s just me.” His hand lingered on mine for a moment, but slowly he released his grip and allowed me to pull the shirt off his body. From the back, this was a delicious looking man. My hands reached out and lightly touched his lower back. He flinched, as expected, but my fingers were far from done exploring. I got in close behind him, so my lips were mere inches from the lovely dip between his shoulder blades. I took in his smell and closed my eyes. On their own accord, my lips kissed the spot over his right shoulder softly as my hands worked their way to the front of his chest.

  My first thought was, I loved the feel of his chest hair as they ran through my fingers, my second was, what was that smooth patch?

  By the way Liam tensed, I had landed upon whatever he was ashamed of. My hands continued to inspect the area. It encompassed a good portion of his left pec muscle and ran diagonally to below his navel. I turned him around to see what I was feeling. Liam’s eyes were pinched shut and his hands were balled into fists.

  Across his chest was what appeared to be a large burn. It was slightly pinker than his normal skin tone, so it clearly happened years ago and had healed as best as it was going to. Patches of chest hair lined his right pec and to the left of his nave
l, but about 70% of his chest was scarred.

  “Oh, Liam,” I whispered. “What happened?”

  His eyes softened, and he finally opened them.

  “I was burned. It was a long time ago. I was only three years old. I barely remember it.” he confessed.

  “How did it happen?”

  He bent down to pick up his shirt.

  “It was nobody’s fault. My father was making us spaghetti and meatballs. My mom had given me some pots and pans to play with on the floor. I guess I beat the pots together in such a way as it triggered my dad’s PTSD, and the pot holding the sauce flew out of his hands and onto me. I was wearing only a diaper…and well, they took a few seconds to react. In that time, the damage had been done.”

  “Liam,” I gasped. This was a whole new side of him he’d never let me see before. I suspected he had never shown this to anyone.

  “This is the real reason I don’t like Italian food,” he whispered. He lifted his shirt over his head to put it on, but I put my hand up to stop him.

  “No. Not yet,” I said.

  I ran my fingers down the scar near his rib cage. There was something quite perfect about the shape. Lowering myself to my knees I looked up at him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Just hold still,” I said, wrapping my arms around his hips to steady him. “I want to see it up close.”

  I ran my fingers over the bumps. It was rough but smooth all at the same time. It was a fascinating thing to feel.

  “Liam, these scars…” I said, a bit breathless.

  “They’re disgusting, I know.”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s…I want to kiss them.”

  My lips moved forward of their own accord. I know I should have asked permission first, but there was such a need burning inside me to feel his pain against my lips, some maternal instinct to kiss it away, that I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to take his shame away. I needed him to know these wouldn’t scare a woman off. If anything, it would endear her to him.

  I pressed my lips against scar on his rib cage and kissed it tenderly. Then I merged onto another spot near his navel, then kissed the scar poking out of the waistline of his jeans. I wanted to kiss each and every spot…