“I was drowning. Sinking in quicksand and he was filling up my lungs and I was dead. He looked up at me, hands fumbling over my face and neck and arms like they were desperately searching, exploring, carving into my soil and digging for my buried treasure. Like he was terrified I didn't want this too. But, damn, I wanted him. I wanted him to kiss me until his touch melted my bones, until I was liquid and vapor and he was drinking me in, breathing me in.”
