Chapter 5

The air inside the vintage photo booth was thick, heavy with the scent of stale popcorn from the midway outside and the musk of our own rising heat. It was a claustrophobic little box, draped in heavy, velvet burgundy curtains that had seen better decades, framing us in a private world that felt worlds away from the screaming children and spinning rides just beyond the fabric. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, a flickering, yellowish eye watching us as we stumbled against the small stool, knocking it askew. I didn’t care. I couldn’t feel my legs. I could only feel him. He had pushed me back against the curved back wall of the booth, his body a solid wall of muscle and heat against my trembling frame. The kiss had started as a promise, a deep, searing exploration of tongues and teeth, but now it had escalated into something feral, something primal. His hands were everywhere, rough and possessive, tangling in my hair, gripping my waist, leaving trails of fire across my skin. I gasped into his mouth, my hips instinctively grinding against his, seeking friction, seeking that final release he had been teasing me with for hours. "Look at you,