Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:37:11 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - Part 39

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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What necessity clothing held for the Kaldr during great bouts of heat I
couldn't be sure. Given their distinct need to consume the heat of others
in order to sustain themselves, it seemed unusual to limit one's exposure
to the sun when it was out clean and clear, unmarred by clouds that so
rarely drifted over the Texas horizon. But there they were—tending the
fields, working the animals, all with clothes covering their bodies. The
only one without his shirt was Guy—who, in comparison to the shorter,
stockier men, appeared like a god among all Kaldr.

As one, their attention was drawn as I descended the stairs. Guy's, too,
had risen, but his was the only gaze that remained in the moments
thereafter.

Without much thought, I made my way along the path toward the rows of
gardens.

"Hey," I said as I approached, taking note of his blistered palms and the
dirt etched across his chest and face.

"Hey," he replied. "Everything all right?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Guy shrugged and slung his hoe over his shoulder before following me along
my undetermined route.

"Amadeo wasn't aware of what was going on in Austin," I said, sliding my
hands into my pockets.

"What do you mean?" Guy asked.

"He... well... he made it seem like he thought you were the one who'd done
it."

"That's just my father's reasoning's getting to him," he said. "Papa's the
peacekeeper. He doesn't like conflict, and whenever it happens, he tries to
settle it without trouble. My father... he's not like that. At all."

"I could tell," I chuckled.

Guy came to a halt, pursed his lips, then closed his eyes, his nostrils
flaring in a great exhale that lowered his broad chest.

"Something's going on here, isn't there?"

"I don't know. Even if there was, I'd have no idea. I've been gone for five
years."

"And you didn't have any contact during that time?"

"No. We didn't." Guy turned, adjusting the hoe against his shoulder. The
fleshy hue of his skin was unusual, considering I'd seen him as fair up
until this point, but I didn't dwell on it. Getting shellshocked now, after
everything I'd been through, would've been stupid and pointless. "Don't
worry about it right now, Jason. Seriously. There's nothing either of us
can do. What happens happens."

"I know."

"Go inside. It's too hot for you out here. I'm worried that you haven't
recovered."

"Have you fed?"

"What?"

"I said—"

Guy shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Go. Inside."

He started to walk off, his attention set toward the section of the field
he'd been working on, but I stopped him before he could leave my grasp.

Leaning forward, I arched myself up on the tips of my toes and kissed his
cheek.

His smile gave me some semblance of assurance, despite the mystery
surrounding it all.

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