First Kiss Friday – Sweet on You by Marianne Rice

Today’s First Kiss Friday featured guest is Marianne Rice, author of contemporary romance Sweet on You.  Welcome Marianne!



A bit about Sweet on You

Rayne Wilde wants the husband, the house full of children and the white picket fence. Which is why she cannot sleep with Trent, the confirmed bachelor whom she’s befriended. As their friendship grows and skeletons creep out of their closets, their relationship is put to the test. Stakes get higher, and the spark between them burns hotter than ever before. Can they handle the heat when life-changing secrets are exposed, or will the fear of being burned send them on two different paths?


First Kiss from Sweet on You

Trent stormed in the house and zeroed in on Rayne. Cote and Thomas were flirting shamelessly with her and Claire in the kitchen. Not caring how cavemanish he looked, he grabbed Rayne by the arm and pulled her down the hall. “Come with me. Now.”

Shoving open his bedroom door, he pulled Rayne inside, slamming it behind her, then stalked up to her, pinning her to the wall with his body. Almost. He didn’t dare touch her. But he had to fix this mess.

“Trent, what’s wrong? You look…” She reached up to touch his face but he grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the wall above her head. Her gasp turned him on far more than it should have. He braced himself, propping his body away from hers.

“I…” he crushed his mouth to hers quickly, “…am not…” he whispered now, staring down at her pink, wet lips, and slowly brushed them with his mouth. “Gay.” He opened his mouth and prayed to God she would let him in. No coaxing necessary. Rayne opened up and gave him free rein.

It was true bliss. Strawberries and cream. He licked her, played with her, and she gave as much as she took. Her free hand fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. Damn. He could do this all day. The bed was five steps behind him. He knew he could dance her over, lay her down and strip her of her tight denim shorts and sexy-as-sin red tank top. And she’d love every minute of it.

Someone moaned.

Rayne Wilde had lips and a body that were meant for loving—but no, Rayne Wilde was made for more than that. For true love. White knight. House. Kids. Promises. Trent was none of those things and he respected her too much to pretend otherwise. And making out with her like a dog in heat would only fill her head with romantic thoughts. And Trent was anything but romantic. And the exact opposite of relationship material. Damn. She molded her body to his, asking—hell, begging—for him to give her more. Rayne didn’t deserve this. He couldn’t let her think the kiss was anything more than a point being proven. Next thing he knew she’d be picking out flowers for the wedding.

Reluctantly, Trent pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. “Clear?”

“Wow.” Her milk chocolate eyes darkened, and he imagined what they’d look like if he touched more than just her lips.

Yeah, totally shouldn’t have done that. She wanted a husband and kids. Badly. And she had a guy in the other room who was probably willing to give her a multitude of babies and the American Dream.

“I’m not, never have been, and never will be. Got it?”


“Gay. I’m not gay.”

“What?” She seemed to wake up now. Loosening her grip on his shirt, she tried to step back, but the wall prevented her from moving.

Realizing he had her trapped, Trent moved away, allowing her some room.

“You’re not gay?”

Trent rubbed both hands up and down his face. “Not even close. Why the hell would you think that?”

If he could only read the thoughts going on in that sexy mind of hers.


“Zumba? Zumba made you think I was gay?”

“No, well, yeah.” She pulled her hands through her hair—which she wore down, and damn if he didn’t find that sexy—and sighed. “The only men who have ever taken my class have been…gay.”

“We’ve been friends for over a month, talk almost every day, hang out a few times a week, and you hadn’t figured out that I’m not?”

“Well.” She was flustered and adorable, her lips begging to be kissed again. “Then there was Faith.”

“Faith told you I was gay?”

Rayne laughed. “No.” She relaxed a little and finally made eye contact. Damn those silky eyes. They made him think of erotic images of chocolate sauce and sweet whipped cream and all the wonderful ways he and Rayne could experiment and play. “Brian came in with her and you two seemed so sweet together with the baby. And she looks like him and also like you…I know that doesn’t make sense. She couldn’t obviously be both of yours but it’s clear how much you both love her and each other.”

“Faith is my niece, my only relative other than Claire, and I love her dearly. Brian, well, yeah, I love him in the brother way, not…” He gestured with his hand.

“And you dismiss the looks and pick-up lines from so many women like they mean nothing to you. It’s like you’re embarrassed because they don’t know your secret. And the way you treat me…our friendship. You’ve never treated me like a piece of meat, or like you were trying to get in my pants. I thought you actually wanted to be…friends.”

Trent cursed. Friends. The worst F word in the dictionary. She wanted his friendship and so she’d have it. Obviously hurt after years of being raked over the coals by so many men, she didn’t need him pawing at her.

“Definitely friends, Rayne. Always friends. I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have. I just…needed you to know that I’m not…gay. It won’t happen again. We’re cool, right?”





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