My breath caught.
“I know you read those romance books Eloise seems to favor,” he said quietly, his mouth a breath away from mine. “So, I can only imagine the ideas flowing through your pretty little mind at the thought of myplans.”
My breath caught again as his hand slid around the back of my neck and he gripped, his fingers squeezing gently. His voice was low and husky, and I swore I could feel heat radiating off his body through all the layers. His hand was warm and rough against my skin. His lips an agonizing enticement that I wanted to take advantage of.
“I want to make any fantasy you might have come true, and myplansinvolve eventually fucking you until you scream my name until you’re hoarse.”
I whimpered and he gripped the back of my neck tighter, pulling me closer still. He moved so his mouth was in my ear and I shivered at the caress of air.
“But before I do that, I’m going to show you just how much I’m obsessed with you.”
I swallowed hard and he leaned forward and captured my mouth with his. It was quick, but it left me desperate for more. He smirked at me as he pulled his gloves back on, and I worked to gather my resolve. He was dangerous, knew how to play dirty.
“All of my fantasies?” I asked.
“Whatever you want, I’ll be happy to oblige,” he said.
I looked at him, trying to ignore the throbbing between my legs.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, studying me.
I shook my head, because the whirlwind of thoughts streaming through my brain right now—even I couldn’t make sense of them. And there was this tiny kernel of guilt trying to worm its way into my brain, and I really didn’t want to focus on it.
“I was just thinking about how I’d beat you to the bottom,” I said, projecting confidence I had no business projecting.
“Oh yeah?” He said, and I knew he was arching a brow under the goggles.
“Yup. You’re going to eat my snow dust.”
He shifted his weight, skiing backwards—away from me, and quickly spun around so he was parallel with the slope, sending snow flying downhill. He looked over his shoulder and smirked—again. I gripped my poles and skied down the five feet to meet him. I knew what I was doing—though my plan to be unknowledgeable disappeared at hisplanstalk. The throbbing built back up as new thoughts chased away the chaotic and guilt ridden ones.
“You’re just going to drive yourself crazy thinking about them,” he said.
“Then you shouldn’t have brought them up,” I snapped.
He laughed and it broke the tension that was building in me, and I chuckled.
“Come on, let’s ski. There’s this little restaurant in the woods I want to take you to. And since it’s past lunch time, we should get going.”
“Skiing,plansand food?” I asked.
“Skiing and food. Plans are for later, if you’re good. You really need to get your hearing checked.”
“Hey!” I said, lighting whacking him with my pole.
He laughed and started skiing, and I chased after him. It took a few minutes for the muscle memory to come back.
While I wasn’t a professional by any means—watching Lukas ski was a thing of beauty—I was steady and fairly confident. I skied past him, and whooped, only to be doused with snow as he came skidding to a stop behind me. He popped around, skiing backwards down the hill until he was in front of me. He stuck his poles in the snow, and leaned. His lips pressed quickly against mine before he was off again, leaving me grinning like a fool.
“How did you find this place?”I asked.
Lukas hadn’t been kidding about it being back in the woods. But skiing through fresh powder and dappled sunlight had been magical. The cacophony of sounds from the slope had been quickly left behind and exchanged for birdsong and the occasional whooshing splat from snow falling from branches.
“A local told me about it a few years ago. I typically bring Zara out, but she told me to bring you instead—who knew my little sister was so wise,” he teased.
I blushed and looked at the massive mug of hot chocolate in front of me. The whipped cream had to be two inches high, covered in cinnamon. He had reached over and wiped whipped cream off my nose with his thumb—and then stuck it in his mouth. And the throbbing had come back full force. He had an equally decadent hot chocolate in front of him, but he’d somehow managed to not get a face full of whipped cream—though I wasn’t sure if I would have been bold enough to do what he did.
“Well, I’m glad she’s wise,” I looked up at him. “And I’m glad you brought me.”
