We’ve all read the “shut up kiss” at some point or another in a book, or seen it in a movie, and may feel this is one literary device that may be a tad overused. I for one think the world would be a better place if we’d all just shut up and kiss each other.
Don’t like what someone says to you – shut them up with a nice big juicy kiss.
Tired of hearing the same old same old from someone in your life – kiss that sucker!
What if it’s a woman, you may say. Try something new? But only if you’re comfortable about it. LOL
But I digress. The point of bringing up the “shut up kiss” was to make a confession. In seventeen books, I’ve only utilized the shut up kiss once, and guess which book it’s in? You got it. ONE FOR THE ROAD. Yup.
There’s a scene where Tyler has just clued D’Anne in about something major and she goes all yappy along with her hysteria. Well, what the heck is a man supposed to do? She needed to quit flapping her lips. It was for her own good to calm down, and Tyler
didn’t know what else to do.
Right. Likely story, you say. Okay, so Tyler may have been wanting to kiss her for
several days already, and maybe they’d had another close call in the recent pass where they almost pressed some lips together, and… Well, you catch my drift. It was about time!
I didn’t sit down that day and say, you know what, I think Tyler and D’Anne should kiss today. Nope, I followed my storyline and realized, as often happens when a writer is part plotter and part pantser, HEY, he can kiss her quiet right HERE!
The scene set up:
D’Anne and Tyler have just caught one of the musicians using her RV as a shag shack. She’d warned the band this kind of shenanigans wouldn’t be tolerated, and chases the scantily clad couple off, then she goes ballistic and Tyler gets the brunt of it. We pick up where Tyler has reached his limit of her mouthing off, and he decides to utilize those lips better to his advantage:
“You keep carrying on like this, and you’re gonna need one of my blood pressure pills. Now calm down.”
“The nerve of him. They even used my bed!” She flailed her arm in the direction of the rustled bed sheets and made a disgusted noise.
Tyler’s eyes followed briefly then focused back on her. “Hush up.” He moved closer.
“How can I share my home with someone who doesn’t even respect me? I gave you guys the rules, no smoking, no whoring, and you all agreed to live by them.”
“And you’ve been a controlling, spoiled brat, making sure we all remembered, too.” He inched forward.
“So that’s what you think of me? I’m just this annoying, over-the-hill, California hen?” she raised her chin, aimed an angry look and pinned him between the eyes.
“Now, I didn’t say you were over-the-hill.” Tyler moved close enough for D’Anne to feel his breath.
“I meddle and bitch and I’m just a pain in the ass, isn’t that what you just said?” She crossed her arms and chanced a glance at his mouth. “You may not say it, but that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Are you gonna hush?” He stepped closer.
D’Anne felt on the verge of crying and couldn’t get her mouth to quit yakking. “I can’t go on like this, surrounded by m—”
Tyler swooped down and clamped his lips onto hers, pressing tightly. Determined, moist warmth stunned her into compliance. Her arms uncrossed by reflex. He pulled her close and massaged them, worked around to her shoulders and, finally her back, lighting a fire on her skin at every point.
Instead of resisting, like she thought she should, tension retreated from her body. Better than Valium. The angry ringing in her ears got replaced with mild dizziness. His tongue, soft and silky, probed the crease of her lips. She tasted a hint of spearmint as the tip of her
own met his.
D’Anne found her arms encircling his neck before she could think about it. His moustache tickled her upper lip and she liked it, nuzzling his face to feel it more. The velvet kiss surprised her, made her heart speed up, and almost made her knees buckle. He held her in place by cupping her rump with a firm yet tender grip. She moaned, heard herself, and
sprang back to consciousness.
Jolted into reality, her hands pushed him away. Their lips parted.
She started breathing again, passed Tyler a shocked look, and finished her original sentence. “Musicians,” she said. “Men,” she added.
D’Anne patted her hair, felt blood rise to her face, and gathered the nerve to meet Tyler’s
eyes, again. A look she hadn’t seen in decades stirred her. Was it passion?
“What was that for?”
“You wouldn’t shut up,” he said, sounding as flummoxed as she felt.
Won’t you join me on the road with ONE FOR THE ROAD by Lynne Marshall