Vincent didn’t want to lose the sensation of David’s mouth, but he finally had to pull the other man off. The Moulin Rouge’s neon lights were bright enough to illuminate David’s face—to show the eagerness in his eyes and the glistening softness of his mouth. Unable to resist, he slammed his mouth to David’s in a hard, short kiss. He tasted his own skin and come, tasted the m*******a and booze as he had expected. David opened to the kiss, inviting Vincent to do more, to take more. But instead of giving into the silent invitation, Vincent broke away and released the other man.
“Hold on tight. I’m not wasting any time getting back to the Thunderbird.”
