Chapter Twenty
Dallas
“He needs a name,” Marti says, admiring our creation. She tilts her head left then right, thinking. “How about Abe?”
I raise a brow.
“You know,” she continues, “because he’s frozen.”
Shocked by her words, I’m not sure whether to laugh or cringe.
“Sorry.” She stifles a laugh. “Bad joke. But honestly, you made a bad joke about him first.”
“You remember that?”
She nods. “I remember everything about that.”
The way she says it, I know we’re not talking about Abe anymore.
“He’s missing something,” she says.
“A hat?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Yes, it is. All snowmen have hats, Marti. You know, one of those top hat thingies.”
“Mmm,” she ponders. “There has to be something we can—”
Marti stops talking and tugs on her scarf until it loosens and comes free. She wraps the scarf around the snowman’s neck and ties it. When she pulls to secure it, she pulls too tightly and the head wobbles to one side.
We both watch as it falls off and slides down the body, tumbling to the ground in a messy clump, the carrot sticking up toward the sky. We look at each other and start laughing. Hard .
“Poor Abe,” she says. “We should say a few words.”
I roll my eyes.
“Abe was…” She chews that bottom lip. “Abe was a jolly happy soul,” she deadpans. “He didn’t have a corncob pipe, a button nose, or two eyes made of coal. Oh, right… coal,” she says looking somewhat like a lightbulb went off.
“Abe could be cold at times,” she continues somberly. “And he didn’t talk much. But for those ten glorious minutes that he graced the world with his presence, he brought joy and happiness to everyone around him. Sadly, though, he lost his head. The murderer is still at large, however, so if you see a frozen crazy lady without a scarf, please detain her for questioning.” She pats his back. “We’ll miss you, old pal.”
My body shakes with laughter. This girl. This woman . She pulls emotions out of me without even trying.
When she’s done with the eulogy, she picks up what’s left of Abe’s head, packs it tightly, takes a few steps back and hurls the snowball at me.
I look down at the remnants of snow on my coat and the mushy pile at my feet. “That’s twice you did that.”
Her eyes narrow into a challenging glare. “What are you going to do about it?”
I punch my hand into Abe’s gut and come out with enough snow to make one hell of a snowball. Marti shrieks and races away, taking cover behind a tree before I launch it at her, narrowly missing her head and slamming into the tree trunk.
“You’re toast,” she says, leaning down to gather more snow.
I run behind my truck and take cover when she darts one at me. I sink down and begin on my arsenal, making snowball after snowball, piling them together for easy access. Peeking around the front bumper, I see that she’s busy doing the very same thing behind the tree.
Bex stands almost halfway between us, his head on a swivel, probably wondering what the hell we’re doing.
When I’ve made a dozen or so, I get up, carefully glancing out from behind my shelter. A snowball splats against the front window, missing me by a good yard. I grab one of mine and toss it at her. It misses by a mile.
You can do better than that, Montana.
I get another one before she has a chance to retaliate. Squinting at my target, I wind up like I’m Stryker Taylor from the Nighthawks, and launch it across the yard. It hits her square in the chest and she goes down.
My breath catches. Shit . I race out from behind the truck and sprint toward her, Bex at my side. But before I get there, she pops up and throws a snowball right at me, hitting me in my goddamn face.
She got me. She got me good. Still running, I wipe off the wet snow as best I can, and tackle her back to the ground.
“Ooof!” she exclaims when her back hits the snow and I land on top of her.
I brace myself with extended arms so she’s not bearing the full brunt of my weight. As I hover over her, snow that was lodged in my cap falls down onto her and slides off the side of her face. I shake my glove off and wipe her cheek.
She looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes as we breathe heavily onto each other, the clouds from our warm breath swirling around our heads. Her tongue darts out, laying moisture along her lips. Without a second thought, I lower myself until my mouth is on hers. Her lips are cold, soft, and inviting, opening immediately so I can plunge my tongue into her mouth.
Marti’s frozen hands work their way up under my scarf, her frigid fingers wrapping around the back of my neck, securing me against her. Despite everything around us being cold, warmth spreads through me as we make out like teenagers in a snow fort.
My lips, warm now, travel down across her cold neck, but I can’t go any further without exposing her to potential frostbite. So I roll to the side, gather her in my arms, and pick her up.
She doesn’t say a single word. She just presses her head against my chest as I carry her into the cabin. I hold the door open only long enough for Bex to follow. He shakes snow off his coat and settles by the fire.
I set Marti down. She takes off my beanie, then pulls my scarf from around my neck. I remove her hat and toss it to the floor. Our arms tangle as we attempt to unzip each other’s coats at the same time. She giggles, then looks up, lower lip pulled into her mouth, gauging my reaction. I get the idea she’s afraid to do something that will pull me out of… this .
What she isn’t aware of, however, is that not even a goddamn freight train running at full speed down a hill could stop me from what comes next. And her laugh—her soft, feminine, enchanting laugh—is just fuel on the fire.
I don’t waste another second, ridding her of her clothes as quickly as I can, then doing the same with mine until we’re both standing totally naked. Naked and shivering, thanks to the fact that we no longer have power.
I pull back the covers and she climbs into bed. I hurry in behind her and pull her against me, basking in the feeling of her body against mine.
She cranes her neck to look at me, a tease glinting her eyes. “The last time you cuddled me like this, you had just saved my life.”
I flip her over and thrust my erection against her hip. “It’s different this time.”
Before she can ask how, I lean down and capture her lips once again. Three days . For three days she’s all I’ve thought about. The way she smells. Her dazzling, angelic eyes. How she flips her hair when she’s annoyed. How she bites her lip when she’s shy. How she takes care of Bex. Hell, how she takes care of me . Even after the way I’ve treated her.
Marti is the whole goddamn package.
I wonder if she knows it. How caring and nurturing and forgiving she is. How she brings light to the darkness. Humor to the sadness.
I deepen the kiss, exploring her tongue, her lips, her every stilted breath. When I’ve drawn all I can from her mouth, I journey to her chest, kissing and licking my way down, tasting every delicious nuance of her skin along the way. Reaching her nipples, they harden into small tight points when I suck one into my mouth and toy with the other using my thumb and fingers. She likes it when I do this. I already know her left nipple is more sensitive than her right, so I concentrate most of my efforts on that one.
She arches into me, a moan escaping her that only encourages me to try for more. To drive her higher and farther. To make her come so damn hard that no other orgasm after this, after me , will ever suffice.
I push aside the thought. Because the ramifications of it are too much.
When I dip a finger inside her, she murmurs my name, and holy fuck it’s sexy.
She tries to grab my cock, but I push her hand away as my mouth travels even lower. I’ll come instantly if she touches me. I’m not ready to come. Not until I make her see God.
Instead of grabbing me, she fists the bed sheet, tearing it from the sides of the bed when I drag my tongue over her swollen clit. She tries to buck her hips, but I hold her down, not letting her move against me. With my hands, I hold her thighs apart, trapping them to the bed. She can’t move her lower body, and I know that’s going to heighten everything she’s feeling.
She releases the sheets and claws at my shoulders. She may even draw blood. But I couldn’t care less. She’s completely and utterly falling to pieces underneath me. And I’m drunk on the power.
“Dallas! Oh, God!”
Her screams bounce off the walls. My fingers get squeezed inside her as she pulsates over and over. My fucking balls tighten and threaten to release my load, my body ready to convulse with sexual energy.
Holy fucking shit.
Before she’s even done climaxing, I climb on top of her. Her eyes fly open. I look down into them, swimming in those hazel pools.
Then, as I push myself inside her, I close my eyes, hoping I don’t drown.