She doesn’t mean to kiss back. She doesn’t mean not to kiss back, either. It’s just not an informed decision at all, surging into him, holding on and opening her mouth for him and sucking on his tongue. None of it is anywhere close to planned or consciously decided, but it happens anyway, like this train wreck she’s seeing from some point far away and she can’t stop happening. She can’t not go with it. She doesn’t have the strength of mind, the willpower to pull back; all she can do is close her eyes and moan into his mouth when his hands rise along her sides, pulling her shirt up with them.