Winter's Tale
“The cemetery’s forest had undergone a thaw. Patches of grass glowed among the snow, tiny crocuses poking through as purple and yellow buds. As graceful as a painting, Hans stretched on his side on a pale blue blanket that matched his eyes. December swallowed at the sight of him. God, his body was long and buff. He wore the same buckskin trousers as before but no shirt. His bare upper torso was ten times as amazing transformed from stone into flesh. It flexed as he shifted onto one elbow, muscle...s contracting in his arms and belly, copper colored nipples tightening on his pecs . . .
“Sit with me.” He patted the blanket in front of him. “Unless you’d rather stand there gawking.”
Drooling was more like it.
Gathering her long curls behind her, she lowered herself to the pale blue wool, mimicking his posture on her elbow. He wasn’t as calm as he pretended. A pulse beat so she could see it in the hollow of his strong throat. She slipped into the logic of the dream state without effort.MoreLess
“Sit with me.” He patted the blanket in front of him. “Unless you’d rather stand there gawking.”
Drooling was more like it.
Gathering her long curls behind her, she lowered herself to the pale blue wool, mimicking his posture on her elbow. He wasn’t as calm as he pretended. A pulse beat so she could see it in the hollow of his strong throat. She slipped into the logic of the dream state without effort.MoreLess
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