Neil winced theatrically when her foot knocked lightly into the back of his head, but couldn't hide the grin that immediately spread across his face when she did it, and growled at him no less.

Point taken--they could talk about it later. She wasn't getting away with swatting him, though.

Neil's head dropped again, mouth trailing up the inside of her thigh again with that same slow, deliberate intent--and as he finally ran his tongue eagerly along her slit, he slid his hands over her legs--fingers cold against her bare thighs, not painfully frigid but definitely chilly enough to make her blanch as he pressed his mouth against her sex.