Add a little mistletoe
Like he had done twenty years ago under the mistletoe, Colt cupped her face in his hands. Hands which were more callused and rough than they had been before. He settled his mouth upon hers.
At first it was just lips on lips. He nibbled and relearned the shape and texture of her mouth. The second Aspen’s lips parted, his tongue was there to slip inside.
He watched her eyes flicker shut and his own followed suit.
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