He found himself unable to move, Anton’s other hand coming up to cup the other side of his head as well. Part of him wondered if this was a dream. Had he passed out from heat stroke? If he had, it was the best dream he’d ever had. Definitely the most vivid. He felt every stroke of Anton’s tongue as it searched out the deepest corners of Mason’s mouth. He smelled the sweat and sawdust that were steeped in Anton’s pores. He tasted the beer and chocolate on Anton’s lip. Most vivid, though, was the thick, long line of an erection skimming against his stomach.
Mason knew Miguel or Pedra could come looking for them, could barge into the shed without warning. But the threat wasn’t enough to force Mason to break the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of the way Anton tasted, and the kiss progressed and evolved into something overwhelming and hard. Mason moved into Anton’s body, grinding against his erection.