Page 57 of The Devil's Ice

“I mean –won’tI?”

“Howwouldyou?”

“Like – by putting pressure on your neck?”

“Ahhhh,” Vixen said, understanding what he was getting at. “Well, I guess surely we can figure out a way to do this without moving my neck?”

“Like – kissing you?”

“Yes, babe.” She got up on her tiptoes, and eventhatbarely got her mouth near his. “Get creative andkissme. ”

Ice stared down at her perfect face, her perfect lips. He knew that she couldn’t tip her head back at all – it was like her neck was encased in concrete, and there was no wiggle room – and bending over from the waist to reach her mouth was awkward and not-sexy in the slightest. He glanced around the clearing, and then he lifted her onto a tree stump, his hands resting lightly on her hips. They now stood almost eye to eye.

“There we go,” she whispered, looping her arms around his neck. “I knew we’d get there in the end.”

“Vix…”

“Yes?”

He paused. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She moved a bit closer, felt his fingers slide down the backs of her jeaned thighs, touched at how damn careful this tough, hard man was being with her. “Remember what you said to me in the hospital, and then again when you were getting me into bed last night?”

He cocked his head at her. “No. What?”

“You said ‘slow and easy’.” She leaned against him, letting him take her full weight on his body. “So… slow and easy it is.”

That hard, gorgeous face was level with hers, so he just took a tiny step forward, and then he took her mouth. The kiss was the softest, sweetest thing that she’d ever known: his lips moved cautiously over hers, almost slow-danced, and she felt her whole body go pliant and boneless in his tender embrace. She just fell into him, and she trusted him to catch her.

It was an odd kiss, in many ways, at least compared to all their other ones. From the beginning, Ice and Vixen had been about blazing desire and sheer lust, and there was nothing gentle about any ofthat. They’d called out the most primal and passionate sides in each other, and neither was ashamed of those sides of themselves, so it had been clothes off and unapologetic feralfuckingfrom the word go: hard kisses, hard fucking, hard orgasms.

In so many ways,thisfelt like their first kiss, ever. It wasn’t about going full-speed into full-on sex, it wasn’t even about escalating things beyond the kiss.

The kiss wasit; the kiss waseverything.

Too soon, Ice pulled back, smiled at the look on her stunning face. He touched her uninjured cheek, watched as those dark eyes fluttered open again.

“OK, baby?” he said.

“Better than OK. Absolutely perfect.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” Gently, he lifted her off the stump and carried her over to the fire pit. “Now, speaking of perfect: are you sure you don’t want to keep thesebeautifulslippers?”

“Ha!” She rolled her eyes. “Gimme the matches, handsome.”

“I’ll grab everything out of the truck.” He deposited her on the bench next to the pit. “Now, you just sit here and think very hard if maybe you shouldn’t give the slippers to me.”

“Toyou?” Vixen was aghast, watched him amble over to the storage space behind the seats. “Why on earth doyouwant to wear the grandpa slippers?”

“You don’t think I can pull them off?” Ice grabbed the bag with the marshmallows, a package of marshmallow toasting forks, a bottle of wine, some plates, and matches. “You saying that I’m not sexy enough?”

“Babe,” Vixen said, watching the sexiest man alive walk over to her, just crossing the clearing like it was totally normal for them to hang out around a campfire together. “You are the hottest man alive, in my personal opinion… but if those thingsevermake their way onto your feet, not evenyoucan make them look good. Or even OK. Or even just mildly terrible.”

“No?”

“No.”

He sighed, pulled the odious slippers out of the bag. “Well, sorry fellas. I tried to save you.”

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