Page 24 of Dad Bod Snow Job

"Keep talking to me."

"About what?"

"Anything. Tell me more about your flower shop plans."

She starts describing her ideas for seasonal arrangements, her voice growing steadier as we walk. Good. Keeping her talking means keeping her conscious.

The cabin emerges from the white haze like a Christmas card come to life. Smoke curls from the chimney, and warm light spills from the windows I forgot to turn off this morning.

"It's perfect." Her voice is soft with wonder despite her shivers. "Like something from a fairy tale."

I shoulder open the door, kicking it shut against the wind. "You need a hot shower before hypothermia sets in."

"I'm f-fine." But her violent shivering betrays her. "Just need to dry off?—"

"Holly." I set her on her feet in the bathroom, keeping one arm around her waist when she sways. "You're showing signs of mild hypothermia. You're getting in that shower if I have to put you there myself."

Her eyes spark with mischief despite her chattering teeth. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Christ. Even half-frozen she manages to test my control.

"Behave." I turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to lukewarm. Can't shock her system with too much heat too fast. "I'll get you some dry clothes."

I find my smallest flannel shirt and a pair of sweats with a drawstring waist. When I return to the bathroom, Holly's struggling with her coat zipper, fingers too numb to grip.

"Let me." I carefully peel off the wet layers - coat, scarf, sweater. Each piece hits the floor with a wet slap. The shirt beneath clings to her curves, nearly transparent. I force my eyes away. Focus on the practical. Getting her warm. Safe.

I swallow against a throat gone dry. My body thrums with hers. It's too much. Too fast. But I can't deny this anymore. It's so right.

"Nico?" She lifts her hands, icy fingers brushing my jaw. "Please."

Her touch sets off a rush of possession. I tear at my clothes, not bothering to fold or hang, instincts screaming to get to her.

She's still shivering when I sweep her into my arms, carry her into the shower, and kick the door shut behind us with my foot. Water pummels our bodies, steam rising around us as I press her against the tile wall, fitting my body to hers.

Our mouths crash together, a tangle of tongues, teeth, and pent-up need. Her hands slide into my hair, tugging gently, and I'm lost.

She tastes like peppermint and want and pure, unfiltered desire. My hands roam, mapping the soft curve of her hips, the suppleswell of her breasts. I haven't touched a woman in years, but my body knows what to do. How to please. How to take. How to give.

I kiss a path down her jaw to the pulse, beating frantically at the base of her throat. Her fingers tighten in my hair, guiding me. The steam rises around us, carrying away the chill from the mountainside as I explore every inch of her with my lips and tongue.

Her fingers scrape down my back, and I shudder, my mouth slanting harder over hers. I skim her thighs, her hips, her ass, lifting and pressing and needing to feel all of her.

I want to give her pleasure. Every kind of pleasure.

Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling me closer. "Don't stop."

I kiss my way down her neck, over her collarbone, pausing to worship the rapid beat of her pulse again.

"Nico," she gasps, and her eyes flutter open, dazed and dark with passion. "I need?—"

"Anything." I tear my mouth from hers, trailing kisses down her throat, licking and biting and sucking. Marking her as mine. "Tell me what you need, and it's yours."

Her hands fist in my hair, pulling me back to her mouth with a ferocity that matches mine. I growl my answer as the water sluices over us, hot and steamy and endless.

Chapter 10

Holly

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