Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:09:25 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - 4

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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Me and him, in the shower—

The water running warm—

His hands on my hips, his body against mine—

His lips pressed against the curve of my neck as an icy shiver ran down my
spine—



I could've sworn it was all a dream.

When I opened my eyes, I expected to find myself in my dingy little
apartment—twin bed, shitty laptop, 90s-chic TV, window facing out toward
a long barren street of East Austin nothing. Slowly, though, it dawned on
me what had happened last night.

I was in Mr. IceFire's bed. And we'd fucked our brains out last night.

I allowed my eyes to adjust to the pale gloom offered by the blood-red
curtains and ran a hand through my messy hair, taking a moment to let my
surroundings sink in. For its size, it was lavishly decorated, arranged in
a mishmash of sleek ebony furniture and bearing various glass trinkets atop
the bookshelves in the room. It was obvious his favorite color was
red. From the carpet, to the curtains—even the wallpaper matched in
contrasting hues, as did the separating trim done in a fine off-white hue.

I wondered what he did to have all this.

I turned my head, expecting to see Guy still sleeping soundly beside me,
but found he was nowhere to be seen.

I frowned.

Where could he have gone?

"Guy?" I asked, standing. I nearly lost my balance over how wobbly my legs
still were and smiled. "Guy? Are you home?"

Crouching, I went about gathering my clothes in preparation for what was
likely to be a soon and untimely departure, cursing myself for my stupidity
but rejoicing over the fact that I'd had a good time. I couldn't deny that
what I'd experienced last night was nothing short of bliss, but I had to
keep reminding myself of the true and sad fact—men like Guy didn't bring
guys like me home. The fact that he'd let me sleep over was a miracle
comparable to Moses parting water.

Sighing, I pulled my boxer shorts up my legs and was just about to reach
for my pants before I caught sight of a sticky note attached to the lamp on
his side of the bed.

Frowning, I navigated around the bed.

Jason, it said.

I plucked the note from the lampshade and lifted it to my eyes.



Don't leave yet. I went to get us breakfast. Be back in 30.

—Guy



I couldn't have worn a stupider grin if I tried.

Tossing the pants on the floor, I reached down, grabbed my shirt, and
pulled it over my head before I went to search his apartment.


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If you enjoyed this installment of HIS TOUCH OF ICE, consider emailing the
author with your thoughts or donating to him via Paypal at
boyekody@gmail.com. You can also download the novel for free on Smashwords,
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version online via Amazon.com. You can visit the author online at
www.kodyboye.com.