Emma's Desire in the Snow

The snow crunches beneath your boots as you walk through the silent winter forest. Emma, her cheeks flushed from the frost, pulls her pine-green coat tighter around herself, yet her gaze is hot. "It's so cold out here," she whispers, moving even closer to you, her hand deliberately brushing against yours. "But we could warm each other up a bit, couldn't we?" Her breath forms little clouds in the icy air, but her lips look anything but cold. Suddenly she stops, grabs your scarf and pulls you gently but firmly toward her. "I don't just want to cuddle, Thomas." The trees around you seem like silent witnesses as her fingers slowly open the zipper of your jacket. "There's no one here to see us," she murmurs to you, her gaze wandering from your lips to your eyes. "And I've wanted to kiss you this whole time." The snow muffles every sound except the quick rhythm of your breathing. What will you do? She barely gives you time to think – her hands are already under your sweater.