“Good news, as long as we’ve got power, I’ve got a stack of Hallmark movies I picked up from the thrift store!” I remembered that our movie date had been very rudely interrupted by inclement weather earlier. “I guess a blizzard in a cabin is just as good as a snowy beach, right?” I grab a different DVD from my basket and slide it into the player of Andri’s TV.
My yeti sits down on the couch opposite me and pats the seat next to him. “Only if you sit with me. I can tolerate those movies if I get to hold you.”
“That won’t be a problem for me!” I rush over to him, blanket in hand, and nuzzle into his warm side. “I don’t know if I’ve told you before, but I really love your fur.”
“I’m glad because I don’t think there’s really any escaping it.”
I run a hand over the hard muscles of his abs, and the contrast of how luxuriously soft his fur feels really seals the deal on my affection for it.
“You really are anabdominalsnowman, aren’t you?” I whisper, and wish I hadn’t as soon as the words leave my lips.
“That isn’t the first time I’ve heard that pun.” He rolls his eyes. I can’t help it, I’m suddenly jealous.
“Who said it?” I try to play off the green monster rearing its ugly head inside me. Andri catches on immediately though, unsurprisingly.
“Don’t worry, it was a man,” he smirks. When my brows raise in surprise, not judgement, he course-corrects.
“I mean a friend, a workout buddy even, used to make that joke—Rick, the minotaur who owns the hardware store, and I used to jog together.”
I just smile and nod, my jealous rage slightly smoothed over.
His body really is the best of both worlds. But as my hand slides lower down his stomach, he’s suddenly tensing. Our situation now is the reverse of how we found ourselves earlier.
“Can I touch…” I pause, not really sure what to say.
“My cock?” he whispers through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, yourcock.” My hand slides back and forth, fingertips just teasing the skin right above his fly.
He pushes my hand away, and I suddenly feel a little dejected.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, not at all. I’m dying for you to touch me…but I don’t want to start our sexual relationship there. I want to make you feel good before we even bring my cock into the situation. Will you let me do that?” His voice is deep but needy.
I look back at the movie for a moment, and a woman on the TV wraps a scarf around a snowman and kisses him on the cheek while sweeping music plays in the background. If ever there wasa sign from the universe that I should go for it…that has to be it, right?
“I’m ready formore.” I lock my gaze on him. “Things have been easy between us, easier than anything else in my life. I want to see this, whatever it is, through.”
He grins and cups my ass with his huge hands. He pulls me into a straddle over his hips.
“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like, or better yet if I do something you do.” He raises a brow as his lips descend onto my neck. He licks the hollow right above my collarbone up to my earlobe before pulling it between his teeth.
Like there’s some mystery thread between that ear and my clit, I swear I can feel a zip of pleasure jolting between the two locations.
“Good,” I groan, letting my fingers lace into his horribly endearing haircut.
“I’m going to take off your top.” He tugs the hem of my sweater up, pulling it over my head like some momentary yeti barricade, before tossing it behind him onto the floor. Even though it’s probably damn near eighty degrees in here between the fire and central heat, I shiver. The anticipation of what happens next has my breath catching in my throat, and the nerves in my fingertips tingle.
“You have the world’s most perfect breasts.” He breathes heavily as he takes in my petite rack in what turns out to be my most comfortable but hideous of bras.
“You should see them in their Sunday best,” I deflect. “They’re on the smaller side, so a pushup does wonders…unlike this old thing.”
“What part of ‘world’s most perfect’ didn’t get through there? Besides, you know what they say, right?” He reaches around my back and unhooks my bra quickly, letting the garment slide down to my navel.
“Wh—what’s that?” I bite my lip, nervous—in a good way.
“Anything more than a mouthful is a waste, anyway.”
