I don’t feel the cold. I don’t see the dark. It’s all rushing heat and bright shining light.
I hold Natalie, stroke my hands over her cheeks, draw whispered sounds from her to greedily drink down.
She said the view is magical, but she’s the one with magic. I’ve been closed off for years, limping through life, and the second I met her she turned on all the lights and pulled me forward, back into life. Even without the soul mate present, I know. Even without someone else telling me, I know.
Natalie is the woman I want to spend every Christmas with, from here on out.
The wind rushes over my back, blowing a cloud of snow past, chilling my cheeks. I cover Natalie, tucking her beneath me to shield her from the chill.
She sends her hands into my coat, under my shirt, and then presses her cold hands to my hips. She bites my lip at the same time and my blood flames as her hands search lower, unbuttoning my jeans.
I taste her, lick her sugary sweet icing and cookie flavor, and then trail my mouth down her cheek and over her jaw. The wind gusts again, snowflakes swirl around us. I’m nearly mindless with the desire to be inside her. She grips me in her hands and I jerk in her tight hold.
“I love you,” she whispers against my mouth, her hand stroking down my length.
With that, I whip off my coat, lay it on the snow as a bed for her, warmed from my body heat. The cold pricks at my bare arms. I don’t care.
Natalie grins up at me, mischievous as mistletoe, and grips me tight as she leans close and wraps her mouth over me.
I strain to hold still. I pray that I can be as quiet and still as the forest around us. But I can’t. A low growling noise rumbles from me and I jerk beneath her mouth and tongue.
I take her hair in my hand, hold her close as she swirls her tongue over me like she’s licking the icing off a sugar cookie.
“Natalie,” I say, straining to hold still beneath her hot candy cane-red mouth. “Let me—”
She reaches to the side then, grabs a handful of freshly fallen, fluffy snow, and pulls her mouth from me. The heat, the wetness of her leaving me is hit with the cold of the night. Then she pops the snow in her mouth, lets it melt on her tongue, and takes me again.
Cold and heat. Fire and Ice. Her mouth is so cold it feels hot, so hot it feels cold. She hums around me and I can’t…I can’t take any more.
“Let me—” I say again, and when she pulls her mouth from me, I push her back onto my coat and yank her jeans down to her ankles. “Let me love you,” I finish, thrusting inside her.
The heat of her, the desperate heat, it’s everything. She presses her icy cold mouth to mine, I thrust my tongue into her mouth, I thrust into her. I’m consumed. I’m warmed to my soul. Her heat reaches my heart.
She cries out, and as I stroke her and bury my heart deep inside her, I feel her wrap around me, hold me tight. She comes undone, and I follow.
I’ll always follow her.
Natalie lies in my arms, nestled in the soft downy snowbank.
We’re wrapped up again in our clothes and coats and scarves, a barrier against the evening chill and our bed of snow.
The sky is inky black and the stars wink overhead like snowflakes in heaven. Beneath us, the snow looks as if we decided to make a dozen snow angels, one over the other.
I take a deep breath of the frosty, evergreen air and turn my lips to Natalie, brushing them over the soft skin of her jaw. Her lips tilt up in a smile and I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She’s staring at the sky, watching the beginnings of an evening snowfall, fat lazy flakes drifting down.
“Merry Christmas,” she says, turning to me, a happy smile lighting her face.
I press another kiss to her. “Should I say ‘bah humbug’?”
She laughs, her shoulders shaking as I pull her closer.
“You want me to open the present?” I ask, glancing over at the package still resting in the snowbank.
“It’s yours,” Natalie says with confidence, “I’ve been keeping it for you for years.”
“And if it isn’t?” I ask, although I can’t fathom that it wouldn’t be. There isn’t any way that I’m not meant to spend my life with her.
“First of all, it is. Second, if for some reason it isn’t, I’ll just tie you up with Christmas lights, park you under the mistletoe and have my way with you.”
“For how long?” I ask. I’m not exactly opposed to this idea.
She grins at me. “For as long as it takes for you to admit you’re mine.”
I scoff. “I’ve already admitted that.”
She sits up, leaving cold air where her warmth was, the snow crunching beneath her.
“Good. Then you can open it and we’ll have done our part in making another Romeo soul mate Christmas story come true.”
She stands to grab the present, then brings it back to me. And even if she says she isn’t nervous and doesn’t care, there’s still a hopeful tension in the bend of her shoulders and the half-smile on her lips.
I nod and take the present, tracing the crisply taped edges of the package.
“How long have you been carrying this around?”
“Ten years.” She shrugs, sitting down next to me, sinking into the snow.
The wind whistles past, swirling snowflakes around us. Natalie pulls her scarf tighter around her neck and leans close as I slowly unravel the gold bow.
“Long time to wait,” I say, dropping the bow into her hands. She clasps the ribbon, her hand folding around it.
“It was worth it,” she says, her voice as hushed as the snowy woods.
My heart beats loud, painfully, as I tear the edge of the paper, pull back the red wrapping to reveal the white cardboard box. I crumple the wrapping paper and put it in my pocket. Natalie’s eyes nearly glow as she stares at the box in my hands.
She’s certain that I’m going to know what this gift means. I’m terrified that I won’t.
I lift the lid, revealing old, crinkled red tissue paper. I push it aside, the fragile paper rustling. A snowflake falls on the paper, and then another.
I stare at the gift for Natalie’s soul mate.
Ten years she’s had this.
Ten years.
The wind rushes in my ears, the cold stings my skin and seeps to my bones, the night blinds me.
“Well?” Natalie asks, her voice far away.
I shake my head, my throat tightening on the words.
I was afraid I wouldn’t know what the gift meant.
I was afraid I wouldn’t recognize it.
But how could I not?
How couldn’t I recognize Lee?