He let go, let himself get lost in sensations he’d known before - exploring her mouth, soft and sweet and demanding and everything he needed right now; her small hands on his chest urging closer contact, the heat of her body up close to his. He tasted a tinge of alcohol on her tongue, and that too was familiar. Back in Vegas, they’d kiss like this, hungry and heated, after a show or after a fight, both of them desperate for the contact, to stake that temporary claim on each other.
There was a level of control to be found in acting rather than thinking that emboldened his hands, sent them wandering over her body. One slid from the nape of her neck to just over her breast, the tip of his little finger slipping under the edge of her shirt; the other ended up at her lower back, pulling her in even closer.