His mouth closes in on mine, and that single second before our lips meet spins out for eternity. And it makes graphs and flow-charts and PowerPoints underlining all the reasons we should absolutely not be doing this.
But we are.
We so completely are.
Winch walks me back to the bed and lies me down, his entire body pressed long and perfectly weighted over mine. He kisses me with a gentle, coaxing pressure for a few minutes, like he's taking my temperature, gauging my heart rate, and determining if I'm in.
I'm all in.

Auteur: Liz Reinhardt