Nick bumps my shoulder with his, playfully. He kicks up some extra snow on purpose, whishing it onto my knees.“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I tell him.“Really?”“Especially with that doggy breath.”He scoops up some snow, makes it into a ball, bounces his hand up and down. “Take that back.”I giggle. “Nope.”I bend down to grab some snow and topple headfirst. The cold of it bites into my cheeks. I try to push myself up, but I can’t. I’m all awkward and clumsy with the snowshoes on.Nick laughs.I struggle some more.He grabs me under my arms and hauls me up. Smiling, he sticks out his tongue, and with tiny little movements starts licking the snow off my cheeks. It should be disgusting. It’s not. It’s all warm, and good feeling, and amazing. I close my eyes and let him.“You smell good,” he whispers.“I haven’t showered.”“Doesn’t matter, you smell good.”His voice, sensual and warm, mellows me.Our lips touch and part, touch again. I breathe him in. He moves his face away a little and studies me. I smile. I can’t help it.“I like you,” I say. “A lot. Even with the whole werewolf thing.”He smiles back. “I like you too.”“A lot?”“Mm-hmm,” he says, leaning in for another kiss. “A wicked lot.
~ Carrie Jones
