Winter had no idea how Jingle accomplished it, but he found his face mashed up against the cabin wall, his arm wrenched up his back. Jingle pressed against him; his breath hot against his ear.
“Was I going too slow for you? Is this what you wanted?” Jingle yanked his arm higher; the pain made Winter gasp, but at least his chest had stopped stinging.
“You think you can manipulate me, Junior? You don’t fool me. You’re playing with someone who knows what you’re thinking, and it’s got nothing to do with us looking alike. I know what you crave, even if you don’t. You want someone to need you so damn bad they forget about nice, they forget about everything but possessing you, mind, body, and soul. You want them to need to experience every gasp, every breath; to push you to heights you can’t reach on your own. Stop fighting yourself, stop fighting me. And when you’re ready, I’ll do something about it.”