Lana and I have decided to start a new feature here at Girls *Heart* Books, it's called Friday Fever. Every Friday we will showcase one of our favorite steamy and/or romantic scenes from the YA & New Adult universe. You know the ones we are talking about; those that get your pulse thumping and your temperature rising. Enjoy.
I'm going to start us off with a bang by sharing one of my very favorite steamy scenes ever, The Dirty Sexy Balcony Scene with Tessa and Will of Cassandra Clare's Infernal Devices series. I am firmly Team Will, and honestly, I had to reread this scene a few times because I just loved it so very much. It gave me chills-you know the ones I mean, the good kind. I will post some of it, but it's super long so I can't post it all. So, here it is, a passage from Clockwork Prince.
" "We should go back inside," she said, in a half whisper. She did not want to go back inside. She wanted to stay here, with Will achingly close, almost leaning into her. She could feel the heat that radiated from his body. His dark hair fell around the mask, into his eyes, tangling with his long eyelashes. "We have only a little time-"
She took a step forward-and stumbled into Will, who caught her. She froze-and then her arms crept around him, her fingers lacing themselves behind his neck. Her face was pressed against his throat, his soft hair under her fingers. She closed her eyes, shutting out the dizzying world, the light beyond the French windows, the glow of the sky. She wanted to be here with Will, cocooned in this moment, inhaling the clean sharp scent of him., feeling the beat of his heart against hers, as steady and strong as the pulse of the ocean.
She felt him inhale. "Tess," he said. "Tess, look at me."
She raised her eyes to his, slow and unwilling, braced for anger or coldness-but his gaze was fixed on hers, his dark blue eyes somber beneath their thick black lashes, and they were stripped of all their usual cool, aloof distance. They were as clear as glass and full of desire. And more than desire-a tenderness she had never seen in them before, had never even associated with Will Herondale. That, more than anything else, stopped her protest as he raised his hands and methodically began to take the pins from her hair, one by one.
This is madness, she thought, as the first pin rattled to the ground. They should be running, fleeing this place. Instead she stood, wordless, as Will cast Jessamine's pearl clasps aside as if they were so much paste jewelry. Her own long, curling dark hair fell down around her shoulders, and Will slid his hands into it. She heard him exhale as he did so, as if he had been holding his breath for months and had only just let it out. She stood as if mesmerized as he gathered her hair in his hands, draping it over one of her shoulders, winding her curls between his fingers. "My Tessa," he said, and this time she did not tell him that she was not his.
"Will," she whispered as he reached up and unlocked her hands from around his neck. He drew her gloves off, and they joined her mask and Jessie's pins on the stone floor of the balcony. He pulled off his own mask next and cast it aside, running his hands through his damp black hair, pushing it back from his forehead. The lower edge of the mask had left marks across his high cheekbones, like light scars, but when she reached to touch them, he gently caught at her hands and pressed them down.
"No," he said. "Let me touch you first. I have wanted..." "
....
"He bent to put his cheek against hers. His breath against her ear made her shudder with each deliberately spoken word. "I have wanted to do this," he said, "every moment of every hour of every day that I have been with you since the day I met you. But you know that. You must know. Don't you?"
She looked up at him, lips parted in bewilderment. "Know what?" she said, and Will, with a sigh of something like defeat, kissed her." ~Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare pg.288-291
'For the past eleven seconds, I'd been lying facedown, hugging my pillow over my head, trying to shut out Chuck Delaney's traffic report from downtown Portland, which was coming through my alarm clock loud and clear. Likewise, I was trying to shut out the logical part of my brain, which shouted for me to get dressed, promising repercussions if I didn't. But the pleasure-seeking part of my brain won out. It clung to my dream--or rather, the subject of my dream. He had wavy black hair and a killer smile. At this moment, he was sitting backward on his motorcycle and I was facing forward, our knees touching. I curled my fingers into his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.
'In my dream, Patch felt it when I kissed him. Not only on an emotional level, but a real, physical touch. In my dream, he became more human than angel. Angels can't feel physical sensation--I knew this--but in my dream, I wanted Patch to feel the soft, silky pressure of our lips connecting. I wanted him to feel my fingers pushing through his hair. I needed him to feel the thrilling and undeniable magnetic field pulling every molecule in his body toward mine.
'Just like I did.
'Patch ran his finger under the silver chain at my neck, his touch sending a shiver of pleasure rippling through me. "I love you," he murmured.
'Bracing my fingertips on his hard stomach, I leaned in, stopping just short of a kiss. I love you more, I said, brushing his mouth as I spoke.
'Only, the words didn't come out. They stayed caught in my throat.
'While Patch waited for me to respond, his smile faltered.
'I love you, I tried again. Once again, the words stayed clamped inside.
'Patch's expression turned anxious. "I love you, Nora," he repeated.
'I nodded frantically, but he'd turned away. He swung off the motorcycle and never looked back.
'I love you! I yelled after him. I love you, I love you!'
-Crescendo, by Becca Fitzpatrick, pg. 29-31
I know it's not exactly "Lovey" but it's steamy, and I remember every detail of this!
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