When the weather obliges she waits impatiently for him to pounce; as he invariably does after a coffee run when he's braved the elements with more than just Jamaica Blend on his agenda. It's a delightful game of cat and mouse. She never knows when it will happen. Or where. She only knows that it will. Her nipples gather and peak at the mere thought of the havoc he will wreak on her system; and she smiles at the visual of his smug face as he slides a cold hand between them and feels her pulsing against his frozen fingertips.