A Not So Simple Kiss

By Kendel Davi

Alyvia, a mid-level fashion model, is asked to write a book about her life to raise her profile by her agent. She hates to write. She doesn’t dwell too much on her journey from a small southern town to the runways of New York, but once she paired up with Roman, a novelist and TV writer who is assigned to help her with this task, she finds herself consumed with his luscious lips.

Alyvia has a new problem, now. The thought of Roman’s lips are more of an distraction that her lack of desire to write until she finds a way to motivation herself, Roman’s lips for her words. After their deal is made they soon find themselves exploring each other and discover new ways to inspire Alyvia to write.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kendel Davi
• Release date: Mar 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311109026

Kendel Davi

You see, the thing about sex is this... Almost everybody wants to have it. Straight people, transgender people, pansexuals, lesbians, bisexuals, gays... If you can think of a group of people, I can guarantee you they want it, they need it, and they are somehow in search of it. Even asexual people enjoy not having to deal with the need to have sex. It’s those moments of build up that leads people to the point of physical expression that I write about. The tense moments, the funny ones, the passionate, angry, and the unconventional ones are my favorites. My best personal sexual experiences have come from the most interesting and unexpected people and situations. That’s what I do. I write about Sensual Characters who have Limitless Diversity in what they do, who they do, and even sometimes how many people they do it with. Being a writer of color is the lens that I look at the world through and it influences what I put on the page. My stories are kinky, perverted, queer, colorful, vanilla, polyamorous, sometimes romantic, and always erotic. So, enjoy yourself as I share with you what makes me Kendel Davi. Thanks for stopping by.

Book preview

Dedication

One of the most amazing things about a kiss is how the person who’s giving it and the one receiving it can translate it. Those series of muscle encapsulated in soft wet flesh can express nothing, hatred, love, pain, and joy. A kiss can mean goodbye, hello, good morning, good night. An extended kiss can relate how much you want someone or detest that person. It can mean, thank you or I want to fuck you so bad right now that it hurts. The simple actions of lips pressed together, that can be made soft or hard within seconds, can open up a world of desire and passion as quickly as those same lips can close that door forever.

This story is dedicated to all the beautiful Sistas that I’ve kissed, the ones whose lips filled me with joy, excitement, and passion. This one goes out to those unexpected kisses that were given that left me hanging, consumed with desire, leaving me wondering if that kiss was an invitation for something more or just an introduction of what was to come.

Thank you for your lips, your kisses, and the memories that continue to fuel me to still write about those moments today.

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A Not So Simple Kiss

I was consumed by a desperate urge to kiss him. This wasn’t the first time that thought crossed my mind but this time the feeling was so intense. When he lifted his cup of green tea to blow on the steamy liquid, I felt it in my soul. Each time those delicious full lips of his would pucker, I’d picture them pressed against mine. It took all my strength not to stare. Most times I could shake this off but today, for some reason, I couldn’t. Roman took a light sip of his tea and caught my gaze.

What’s on your mind?

I was a split second away from telling him the truth. Instead I took a sip of my coffee and took as long as possible to swallow.

We should probably get to work, I mumbled.

He raised his eyebrow, smirked, and took another sip of his tea. We both knew that was a lie. For the past two months, a few times a week, we’d meet and I hadn’t written a single word. This was my agent’s idea. He thought if I wrote a book about my life it could help my modeling career. The story of a young black girl growing up in the back woods of Alabama making it to the runways of Milan was inspiring but sitting down and writing was not my thing. I’ve been on the move since I was old enough to buy a bus ticket out of that slow ass town. When my agent suggested I do this I jumped on it. I figured all I’d have to do was tell my story and somebody else would write it. Little did I know he was sending me Il Duce . He was getting paid either way so it shouldn’t make a difference if I wrote something or not but Roman was stuck on this idea that I should put down the words on paper myself and then he would reshape it.

Okay, he said with a smile. He reached into his bag and pulled out his