“Did you forget your words, Elvis?” “It was good,” he manages, and rolls his eyes but I can see him fighting a smile, too. “Good how?” His jaw ticks, like he wants to argue with me about why I’m asking him this when I was obviously there, too, but the heat in his eyes tells me he’s just as turned on as I am, and is willing to play along. “It was the kind of kiss that feels like fucking.”
