Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

24. Winter Wonderland

Cabin in Wisconsin

(2009) Max is 24, Liz is 23

It was a tickling sensation against her skin that pulled her from the realms of sleep. Still not ready to let go of the state of unconsciousness, she mumbled in protest and pulled the blanket further up her face.

But the action didn't abolish the annoying feathering across her face.

"Go away."

"Love, open your eyes."

The low dark timbre of his soft voice was almost enough to pry her eyes open. But she knew from experience that as soon as she opened her eyes, getting out of bed soon thereafter was anticipated and she didn't feel like leaving the warm comfort of the bed just yet.

Come to think of it; the main source of heat in the king sized bed was lacking. Why could she hear him, but not feel him curled around her body? What was he up?

"I don't want to," she murmured and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

"I think you do." She could hear the smile in his voice. "I think you want to go outside."

She shivered under the blanket at the thought of the cold outside.

No, she really didn't want to go outside.

"Do I have to?" she almost whined.

It felt early. Why was he up so early? Why was he waking her up so early?

She heard him move in front of her face and she peeked one eye open to see what was going on. He winked at her when he saw her open her eye and she quickly squeezed it shut. She didn't want to give him the idea that she was getting up or anything.

"Baby," he whispered, his husky voice caressing the whole surface of her naked body underneath the covers. "Come on..."

"Is it good?" she asked with eyes closed.

"It's good," he said, amusement coloring his voice.

"If you're lying..."

"I'm not-"

"There's no sex for a week for you."

"Oh, really?" he asked in mock curiosity. "Can you survive that long without sex?"

Her eyes flew open and she glared at him. She tried really hard to hold her glare, but he looked very...appetizing with his hair standing in all directions and a slight shadow across the lower part of his face needing the attention of a razor.

But she didn't mind the stubble. No, not at all. The way it would brush against her skin, threading a fine line between discomfort and pleasure...

She shivered and he smiled at her broadly.

Her eyes narrowed again. "What are you smiling about?"

"You're thinking about sex, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "You, Mr. Most-Sought-After-Playboy-in-High-School, are the last person allowed to talk about abstaining from sex. How much self-restraint do you have, huh?"

"Whatever are you talking about?" Max asked, feigning confusion.

"'Oh, Liz. Let's do it on the floor. Let's do it in the bathtub, on the couch, against the refrigerator, on the kitchen counter-'"

"Don't tell me you don't like it," he said smugly.

She held back a smile as she shook her head and sat up, intentionally letting the covers fall off her. She shivered as the cool air breathed across her skin, but it was worth seeing his eyes grow pitch black as his gaze roamed her naked body.