She guided Jack towards her bed so that soon they were both sitting on the edge of it. And so she had come, easily, with no weeks of frustration, no contemptible partners, but with an hour or two with a pretty young man who asked her what she liked. There had been a few creative solutions—she bit her lower lip and smiled a little, remembering them—but none of those had been offered by the first person to arrive, drawn here by the promise of a bag of gold and a guaranteed lay. The Snow Queen returned his handshake and, at once, forgot to let go. She gave him a half-hearted glare. Not only had Jack not reacted with any surprise at all upon the touch of her skin, his skin felt entirely unique to her, out of all the skin she had ever touched, and that was saying something.
Kayden. Age: 28.
The Snow Queen returned his handshake and, at once, forgot to let go.
Renata. Age: 20.
His hands caressed the insides of her thighs maddeningly as he looked up and met her eyes. The number of beings that had considered a handshake to be part of a proper introduction to the Snow Queen at the end of winter was very, very low. His smile grew a little wider.