Still in my lips
It's just a kiss.
It isn't like it really means anything. After all, if he's going to follow her around like a lovesick puppy, she might as well profit from it. If all it takes is a few kisses to keep him at her beck and call, she has plenty more. It's just business, nothing more.
But his taste lingers on her lips; wind and wolf and oil mixing in to something uniquely him. And her lips curve up in remembrance before she realizes it.
She spends the rest of the day attempting to suppress that smile with minimal success.
A/N: 100 words; written for the prompt 'still in my lips'.