"You like that, Emma?" he asks, sliding his frozen tongue along my lips. Holy shit, do I like it. The heat of his body, the ice-cold of his tongue. The mix of sensations is like nothing I've ever felt before. My skin has been buzzing since last night in the lake, and now I'm finally connecting with Thatcher, touching him, feeling him touch me. It's sexy enough to be sitting on Thatcher's lap with his hands on my ass, but when he kisses me? I'm gone.

"Thatcher," I breathe, "I ...