Page 48 of Jack Frost

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"You're coming with me. Right now," I whisper, grabbing my purse, wrap, and camera bag.

"Hell yes," he whispers back.

We rise together, unnoticed amid the flurry of excited comments about the sculpture, and I draw Jack out of the meeting room and down the hallway. There's another hallway branching off to the left; it's gloomy and half-lit, and I pull him into it. Then I drop my bags, grip his ridiculous beautiful coat with both hands, and drag his face down to mine.

The kiss is ice-white fire, searing through my nervous system. We are galvanized, our bodies sucked together, not a sliver of space between us. Jack cups the back of my neck, his breath eager in my mouth. I remember what he said, about yearning to be touched, and I slide my arms under his coat, around his torso, sweeping them up across his back and then down to his waist. I am unleashed, wild, free-floating, crushing myself harder into him.

Then I break away so I can look into his eyes—his sweet, hopeful eyes. "I love you."

"God, I love you," he answers, tightening his grip on me. His kisses are a frenzied staccato against my lips.

"Jack!" I slip my fingertips between our mouths. "Take me home."

"But—the benefit—"

"I don't give a damn."

He grins. "Yes, ma'am."

Quickly I pick up my things. There's a whirl of snow and ice—that odd feeling of dissolution and reassembly—and then we're in my apartment—in the living room, not the bedroom. Maybe he didn't want to assume that I planned to sleep with him. Sweet man. I'll soon dispel any doubts he has.

"Take the coat off," I order, laying aside my wrap and bags. He sweeps off the coat and tosses it aside. The dress shirt underneath is surprisingly silky to the touch, and its texture only heightens the spiraling need inside me. Jack's hands graze my waist and lower back, drifting down to my rear. He hesitates, but I press closer to him, encouraging the touch, and he cups me tighter, releasing a satisfied sigh. The slide and squeeze of his hands, shifting the slinky material of the dress over my skin—it's exquisite, overwhelming. I'm tingling all over, trembling with need.

"You have too many clothes on," I tell him.

"So do you."

Slowly we move apart, eyes locked on each other like a pair of predators circling the same prey. By the time I manage to slither out of my dress halfway gracefully, Jack has his shirt and pants off. He's just wearing boxers now, and they do absolutely nothing to hide how much he craves me.

For a second I panic. I haven't had sex in a long time; and when I did, it wasn't always great. Sometimes I didn't even feel like doing it, but I went along with it anyway because that's what a girlfriend does, right? At least that's what I thought, until Karyl assured me loudly that I had every right to say 'no,' anytime I didn't want sex.

This time I want it, a hell of a lot. But I'm no pristine frost goddess with flawless skin.

"You should know that I have some—issues," I mutter. "My nipples are kind of wonky, and there's this weird mole on my butt—" What am I even saying? Am Itryingto turn him off?

Jack laughs. He approaches me, his fingers gliding along my arms, and he tucks his mouth against my ear. "You think I give a shit about any of that? You could be covered in scars or scales and I'd still want you."

God help me, I think he actually means it. "Do we—do we need birth control?"

"No. Elemental gods like me can't reproduce with humans."

"Are you sure?"

He draws back, looking into my eyes. "Areyousure? Because if you're not, we can sit on the couch and watch Netflix or something. Or I can leave, if you want."

"No, I—" I bite my lip hard. "I want this, but I'm nervous, Jack."

He chuckles. "So am I. Haven't done this in two hundred years."

"Oh. Right." Confidence flows back into my heart, warming me, loosening the tension in my limbs.

"Yeah, it's all good." He kisses my forehead. "We'll figure it out together." One of his fingertips traces the curve of my strapless bra, teasing, tempting, slipping just beneath the edge.

"For fuck's sake, take it off," I whisper.

He grins. "You don't usually swear like that."

"I save it for special occasions."