Muscle Memory: CH. 9

CHAPTER NINE: THE POINT OF CONTACT

Danny throws the controller like it personally offended him. It lands somewhere across the rug, a soft thud swallowed by the chaos taking over the room.

Then he grabs my head with both hands and pulls me into a kiss so deep it knocks the air out of me. There’s no easing into it. No gentleness. Just heat and hunger and teeth and breath, our mouths crashing, opening, flooding. I can taste him—salt and sweat and him—and feel the mix of spit and precum where our lips slide and stick and melt together.

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