The Life of M

When she looked back to face him, she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been that his lips were descending towards her’s. The kiss felt like a hot air balloon: a rootless, rising feeling somewhere near her stomach that almost made her panic. The kiss wasn’t sweet like chocolate and it definitely wasn’t innocent. It was tangy with guilt but with smoky, intoxicating undertones like barbecue sauce or cigarette smoke. And when he backed her into the railing and pushed against her, she wasn’t even worried about falling. She had already fallen weeks ago, hard and fast.

The Deep End