Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:37:11 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - Part 16

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of fiction, and contains scenes of graphic violence and
explicit male/male sex. If you are not of the legal age to read this, or
are uncomfortable with this sort of content, please turn back now.

HIS TOUCH OF ICE (The Ice Men, Book 1) is copyright © Kody Boye. All
Rights are reserved.

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We drove away from the scene of the crime just in time to avoid the
onslaught of police cruisers responding to reports of gunfire. Tucked
safely away in Guy's sprawling blue Lexus, we made our way through the
streets of Austin in silence, save for only the sound that of our
breathing. I'd been quick to try and stem the bleeding from my head wound,
if only to keep from ruining the interior of Guy's car, but found it was
almost impossible to do so.

"Don't worry about it," he said after I fussed with yet another series of
napkins. "They're covers. Besides—the car's the least of my concerns
right now."

"Where are we going?"

"Hill country, even if it's the last place I want to go."

I cradled the back of my head with one hand and fought to control a rolling
wave of nausea that threatened to send the contents of my stomach onto the
floor of Guy's nice car. Breathing, carefully, as to not overstimulate
myself, I rolled the window down just a crack and leaned my head against
it—immediately prompting a look from Guy, but not the question I'd
expected.

The silence was bliss after all I'd went through.

I kept hearing the same sound in my head.

Bam, the gun went. Bam bam bam.

During the chaos of it all, there'd been little time to think of
anything. We'd packed two bags, carried them out to the car, Guy said we'd
pick up food once we got out of Austin and we were free of the burden of
the police department—I'd noted, upon our departure, a tear in his suit
where the bullet had grazed and cut straight through, but he'd been quick
to rebut my offers of help.

You're hurt worse than I am, he'd finally said.

He was right. I'd been slammed into the corner of a counter and been
cold-clocked with a pistol. How I was even awake, much less lucid, was
beyond me, but so far I was faring well. The sharp pain in my back had
since dulled to a low throb—which, I hoped, meant it wasn't too serious.

So early in the evening, the traffic through west Austin was a
nightmare. He immediately bypassed I-35 and instead took Congress all the
way down to William Cannon—which, eventually, would lead us out of
Austin and into Hill Country.

Sometime during our merge onto William Cannon, I nodded off and fell into a
deep sleep.

When I woke later to a throbbing head and a back with what felt like a
needle lodged into my spine, I lifted my head away from the window to look
out at the world before us.

Hill country.

Even so late at night, it was stunning in its beauty. Flanked by blue
bonnets on both sides, bordered by tall grasses in various colors further
out, and sprinkled with wildflower in every shade and hue imaginable. With
the headlights striking their surfaces, they resembled the mystical
Wonderland Alice had so unfortunately fallen into, albeit with a sinister
shade that reminded me of the Cheshire Cat and all its creepy riddles.

"Guy?" I asked, turning to face him. "Are you all right?"

The sweat beading down his forehead gave no indication that he was. The
heater was cranked full blast and both windows were rolled up to trap the
near-suffocating air that permeated the inside of the vehicle. I almost
told him to turn the air down and roll down the windows, but when I reached
out and found his skin to be cold as ice, I jerked my hand away, trembling
at the shock in temperature difference.

"Guy?" I asked. "What—"

"Good," he said, not taking his eyes off the road. "You're awake."

"What's going on? Why are you sweating?"

"I'm cold, Jason. I'm really, really fucking cold."

"But you're sweating—"

"I'm not like most normal guys, babe, but I think you already figured that
out already."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to say.

Guy returned his attention to the road and focused on a slight dirt runoff
that likely led to an old farm trail. "I'm pulling over," he said.

"Guy, what're you—"

"Just trust me! Ok?"

I flinched at the bark in his tone, but nodded as he pulled over and killed
the ignition.

One moment, the lights were on, illuminating the rolling fields of flowers
before us. The next, it was dark and I could only see by the light of the
moon.

Guy took my hand. "You said you trusted me," he said, stroking my knuckles,
a faint echo of discomfort pulsing from his glacial fingertips. "Right?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I trust you."

"I can't explain right now. I'm... starting to fade. I need you to do
something for me. It won't hurt, but... it's not going to be pleasant
either."

"Guy," I said, quickly losing my cool as he began to shiver
violently. "What's—"

"Please, Jason. Help me."

The rings around his eyes glowed brighter than ever.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "What do you need me to do?" I asked.

"Kiss me," he said.

Leaning over, he took both sides of my face in his hands, tilted my head to
the side, then captured my upper lip between his.

A spark ignited between us.

The immediate sensation of standing in the middle of the freezing-cold rain
consumed my body like a voracious predator. Shocked, initially, by the
contrast in our persons, I almost recoiled, but I held myself steady as he
grounded me with his hands. His fingertips slid down my face, tracing one
cheek, then my jawline—his tongue slid into my mouth and a spark of
pleasure unlike anything I'd felt before shocked my senses and nearly made
me blow in my pants. It was then and there I submitted to his needs, harder
and hornier than ever, and reached up to take hold of the back of his neck
and skull.

His tongue slid across my lips.

I groaned as he pressed his mouth against mine.

The pressure of his hand against the swollen spot of my spine instantly
imparted comfort that no medication could've offered.

Just as quickly as it begun, it was over. Guy pulled his hands away from my
face, then withdrew mine from the back of his head. "We're done," he said.

"I," I gasped, "nearly... came."

"That happens sometimes," Guy smiled.

I looked around at the interior of the vehicle. Unlike before—when it
had been sheathed in the tight, oppressing grip of heat—it was colder
than hell. Ice particles lit the frame of Guy's brow and the windows were
completely fogged and frozen over.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Guy," I said, turning my eyes back on him to find that his irises had
since lost their vibrant, aqua glow. "What just happened?"

"I've got some explaining to do," he said. He put the car into drive and
flicked the defrosters on. "There's a rest stop up ahead. We'll talk
there."


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If you enjoyed this installment of HIS TOUCH OF ICE, consider emailing the
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