Mason himself didn't know what was different about this k!ss. He only knew that he really wanted to k!ss Travis, not just a tap, a touch, or a couple of k!sses.
He wanted a k!ss that was sweeping, passionate, overwhelming, as intense as a fight, and so breathtaking that he had never felt it before.
Travis's lips were a little cold, but his breath was hot.
After the warm breath touched Mason's face, he lost his mind. The last trace of reason he waved away made him feel like a one-armed pervert who suddenly exploded.
He dragged Travis into the house, swung him against the wall, and then dragged him into the living room, kicked over a chair, and knocked over the table. After a series of operations, the world seemed to be blank. He could not see anything clearly. He could only hear his own panting. In the chaos, he could not even tell whether Travis responded or not.
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