“Is your yard fenced in?”
“Yes.”
I scan the trees. The lights he’s hung illuminate themjust enough. “Give me a fifteen-second head start,” I say, the words flying out. “Then catch me if you can.”
“You’re on.”
Vaguely, in the back of my head, I wonder if all this effort he’s made is simply for a few days or if he’s rolling out all the stops because he likes the games we play. Maybe he wants them to be real too.
But there’s a time and place for confessions. And there’s a time to run. Right now, I run, through the snow, dodging and darting past trees, rounding spruces, sliding between firs. I’m inhaling the delicious scent of pine and snow and wild thrill.
I don’t know where he is—but Ihearhim.
His footfalls grow louder. A dangerously seductive sound. I whip my gaze around, my heart pounding in my throat, my adrenaline sky-high.
But my desire is too.
Iwanthim to catch me.
I duck behind a tree. Wait.
His boots grow louder, crunching snow.
Then he says, “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”
I stay quiet, holding my breath, until he walks past me.
I let out my breath.
He jerks his head. His eyes are dark, his jaw tense, his gaze locked on mine. “Got you,” he says, his arms darting out, grabbing my shoulders, clutching me.
It happens in no time. His kiss is hard, rough, cold. He leans my head back. Crushes me to him. Devours my mouth.
I break the kiss and pant out my true desires: “I want you. Right here. Right now.” I stop. Smirk. “But I want the kind of outdoor sex where only your dick gets naked.”
His eyes flare. He growls.
I hold his filthy stare as desire pulses low in my belly. Then I drop down in the snow.
But Rowan catches me before my jeans hit the white stuff. “Wait,” he says, and I wobble but don’t fall.
In one swift move, he shrugs off his coat, and spreads it on the snow beneath us. “Don’t want you to have to kneel directly in a winter wonderland.”
“I knew you’d start quoting holiday songs eventually.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Oh, I bet I can get you to talk in Christmas tunes when I’m done with you,” I say, then lick my lips, nice and slow and seductive.
“You’re on.”
At last I kneel on his coat, and he unzips his jeans. I’ve never been hotter than right now, out here in the cold.
46
SNOW JOB
ISLA
