He reached over and took Taylor’s hand. She did not pull her hand away.He moved his hand up her arm. She stiffened a little and glanced around, making sure they weren’t seen. Or, maybe, hoping they were.His hand reached her neck. He leaned toward her and pulled her to him.He kissed her.She kissed him back.He kissed her harder. And she slid her hand under his shirt, fingers stroking his bare flesh.Then he pulled away, fast.“Sorry, I . . .” He hesitated, his wallowing brain arguing against a body that was suddenly aflame.Sam stood up very suddenly and walked away.Taylor laughed gaily at his back. “Come see me when you get tired of mooning over the ice princess, Sam.
Michael  Grant, Plague
drunken-behaviour, kiss, mistake, sam-temple, taylor, touch