I set her against the tile wall, brace my legs apart, and go in for another kiss. Her arms and legs are wrapped around me, and she’s holding on tight. The moment my tongue touches hers, she moans softly into my mouth.
It makes my heart take off like a rocket, that sweet little sound. I love it the way I love football and barbecues and fireworks on the Fourth of July. The way I love Thanksgiving and Buzz Lightyear and guns with high-capacity magazines.
I love it like it’s a religion.
In a way, I suppose it is.
“Goddamn, Angel. You’re so fuckin’ sweet.” My voice is as rough as my breathing. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, and suddenly, it’s hard to breathe at all.
“You are,” she whispers. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and if you’re not careful, I’ll—”
She breaks
