Emma
The quiet lulls me into a false sense of security.
I strain to hear a noise.
Nothing but silence.
I’m about to turn around when I hear something. Before I get a chance to look, a volley of snowballs assaults me. Each one hits my body.
I duck, I weave, I run, and, finally, I dive for cover behind a raised wall of some sort. I land hard, so hard that I struggle to breathe.
I count to ten and make myself breathe nice and slow. I’m winded. Fingers crossed, Dylan’s not chasing after me—at least not yet.
When my breathing is a little easier, I peer out from behind my safety barrier and wham, a snowball hits me fair in the face.
You fucking wait, Dylan, I vow. What you can do, I can do better.
Quickly, I form snowball after snowball. I don’t stop until I have about twenty small balls next to me.
Then I peer out from behind my hideout and see Dylan frantically build his own wall out of snow.
Boss is coming out of house and jumping around. I see Dylan wave his arms at the bear, as if trying to shoo him away.
The bear just leaps around, and to my utter delight, part of Dylan’s wall collapses.
I giggle and grab my snowballs to start my assault.
Most of them get him in the back, as he’s still fighting with Boss.
Before he can retaliate, I disappear and make more ammunition.
I can’t recall the last time I’ve had this much fun.
My second attack on him is not as successful as the first. Boss has moved on, and Dylan has built a tall snow wall around himself.
My balls fall a little short. His, on the other hand, are accurate and come sailing down around me, behind my shelter.
When my next lot of snowballs go astray again, I know it’s time to change my tactics. I take a breather and look around. I need a plan, a plan he won’t see coming.
If I stay hunkered down behind my wall, we’ll be here all fucking day. I need to win this fight. As my eyes scan the area, a plan is forming.
Okay, so I know my combat skills. I’ve been to the seminars and paid attention. I peer around my hide out and wait.
Nothing.
Both baby bear and Dylan are nowhere to be seen. Fingers crossed, Boss won’t give me away.
I take a deep breath before I unleash a volley of snowballs.
Bingo. Dylan returns fire.
This is my queue. I dart out of my hideout and dash to my right.
My plan is simple. I’ll let him think I’m rebuilding ammunition when, in reality, I’m going to circle the house and attack him from behind.
I run as fast as I can. With the deep snow, it’s heavy going. My legs sink into the snow with every step I take.
Soon enough, it feels as if my lungs are being pierced by millions of needles, and breathing becomes difficult.
But I’m propelled by my competitive desire to beat Dylan. If I can ambush him from behind, I’ve won this war.
The minute he came out to assault me with, like, a hundred small snowballs, I knew it was war.
Now the time has come to outsmart the smart mountain man.
Nearly there, only a bit further, I can see the back of his legs.
All of my attention is on getting to my goal. I don’t see Boss bounding through the snow toward me. Only when it’s too late do I see the bear.
An avoidance maneuver has me tumble straight over him. Instead of sprawling straight onto the ground, I roll, but the commotion has been enough to alert Dylan to my presence.
No, my brain’s screaming at me to get my ass into gear.
Quick as I can, I scramble to my feet and charge.
To my utter delight, the element of surprise is still on my side. While my fall may have alerted Dylan to my presence, he’s not quite sure what to make of it, and so he’s just standing there, watching.
I unleash a volley of snowballs I’ve been hiding in my jacket, and as he’s trying to fend them off, I make my final move.
With all the power and force I can muster, I pummel into him as I wrap my arms around his waist.
If it weren’t for Boss joining in, I would never have succeeded. But the bear leaps against me as well, giving me the extra power to unbalance Dylan.
His arms reach for something, flailing and wailing, but to no avail—and he goes sailing through the air backwards.
He lands flat on his back with an almighty smack.
When he says nothing, fear takes hold. Had my plan gone wrong? Was this going to be a fun moment gone wrong?
Had I killed him? Ice fingers grab and squeeze my heart till I think I can’t breathe anymore.
My thoughts spiral into imagining the worst of the worst.
What if I haven’t killed him but seriously injured him, so he’s going to be a quadriplegic for the rest of his life? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Tears are about to fall when I feel movement.
Thank god, he’s alive.
Before I can say or do anything, my face gets covered in snow.
“You’re going to fucking pay for this,” growls Dylan and rolls me off him.
Now he’s got the upper hand.
Darn, darn, darn. I’d fallen victim to the most basic rule of combat: never let your emotions get in the way of victory.
He pins me to the snow. I struggle and squirm beneath his hard hold.
“It’s no use my little fucking slut,” he growls.
I see him take both my hands into his left and then use his right to pick up more snow.
He covers my face and my top—and basically all of me—in the cold white stuff. When my struggling gets too much for him, he simply sits on the lower part of my body.
“We’ll see about who’s going to win this fight.”
“Boss,” I call my baby bear, but I can’t see him anywhere. “Boss. Don’t abandon me, you…” The words die on my lips.
“He’s gone off to chase a snow flake; he won’t help you,” says Dylan and I see the glint in his eyes. “In fact, no one will hear you out here. It’s just you and me and the snow.” He picks up another handful and shoves it down my front.
“Ahhh,” I screech and try and push my hips upwards so as to unbalance him.
“Give in?”
I shake my head. “Never,” I say with renewed determination.
By the time Dylan shoves the third load of snow down my jacket, I know I’m fighting a losing battle.
I’m breathing hard, and my insides are burning with desire, despite the cold seeping in from the snow.
Dylan’s face comes really close, and his lips hover above my mouth. In anticipation, I half-close my eyes and open my lips to meet him.
Instead of pushing down hard, he just brushes his mouth past mine, ever so lightly. Electric shockwaves pulse through me. I try and move upward to catch him, but he’s just out of my reach.
“You haven’t said the magic words,” he growls.
I moan. I’m going to lose my mind with all this desire sweeping through me. I can’t think clearly.
“What magic words?” I pant, and my gaze is fixed on his lips.
My body aches to be touched by this sex god. I want him to fuck me here and now. I want him to rip my clothes off and douse the fire of desire ripping through me.
“I give in.” I see the corner of his lips curl up a little into a near smile, and I see the glint in his eyes.
I bite my lip. I don’t want to give in—it goes against my instinct: fight till the end.
“Then you won’t get to taste these again.”
His fucking mouth is so close I think I’ll be able to press my lips against him if I just stretch my neck up a little. I purse my lips and give it a go.
But he moves away, just enough so he’s out of reach. I can still feel his warm breath on my face.
Man, oh fucking man.
By now, my pussy is dripping wet with anticipation and begging me to give in so he can fuck me.
I mumble something and look at him.
“Can’t hear you, sweetheart.”
“Okay. Okay.” Now I’m nearly shouting. “I give in. Happy?”
Instead of a response, his mouth crushes down on mine. Our tongues meet and entwine and duel till our hands are taking over.
I feel him tug at my coat, and my fingers reach for his pants.
It is as if time has stood still. There’s only Dylan, me, and our incredible animalistic lust for each other.