Page 14 of When the Snowman Whispered
“Faith.”
My fingers shook.
I turned around.
Words caught in my throat. I opened my mouth and couldn’t speak. I should’ve ran off and called the cops, but what would I have said?
My snowman stood in front of me, blinking those sapphire eyes. Remy had long lashes. His face was god-like in perfection, a blue glow of flesh, sculpted lips, a flawless harmony of delicate ice carved into sensual gaze. His skin glowed, but appeared like pale human flesh—so soft, even though stretched over hard muscle.
Speaking of hard.
I lowered my gaze to the cock that hung between his legs. Thick and bright white. Long and full at the mushroomed tip.
I don’t remember putting that there.
I licked my lips. Burning desire swarmed all over me.
This is a dream. I’m sleeping on the ground outside, I guess. Okay. Dream or not. I’m having sex with him. It’s been a long time. And I . . .what am I saying?
My stiff nipples poked against my shirt. Sweat trickled down my forehead. I took off my sweater. My head was a little fuzzy from the wine. I breathed and stayed in the moment, not thinking too far ahead. If I did, I would go mad. I would run away, pulling my hair, and babbling about swimming ice mermaids.
The snowman smiled at me. “Faith?”
“This is a dream.”
“No.” He stepped toward me. “You’re not dreaming.”
And then I found the strength to run. My feet no longer stayed rooted to the ground. I’d finally scared myself enough to book it out of there. Adrenaline pumped in my veins. Panic raced through my ribcage like a sports car speeding down the highway.
Bang-boom.
Bang-boom.
I raced out of there, rushed up the steps, snatched the door open, slammed it behind me, locked the knob, and collapsed to the floor.
What. The. Fuck?
Chapter 4
Faith
“M
om, I’m not playing!” The phone shook in my hand. “The snow man came alive and the mermaids—”
“And Santa wanted to get laid?” Mom laughed.
“They’re all alive!” I peeked from behind the curtain and stared out of the window.
The snowman had sat next to the burned-out logs and wine-stained snow. As soon as I slid the curtain to the side, he turned his face in my direction. Those sapphire eyes sparkled in the moonlight.
Ahhh!!
Shivering, I whispered into the phone. “He’s watching me.”
“Santa?”
“No, Mom. The snowman.”
