Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:09:28 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - 5

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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"Hey," Guy said.

I looked up from my place at the bar. The gorgeous man with the hypnotic
blue eyes stood in the doorway, a series of paper bags and a tray of
plastic Styrofoam cups in the other.

"Hey," I replied.

Guy kicked the door shut from behind him and made room for the food on the
opposite side of the counter.

"Sorry I helped myself," I said.

Guy took note of the glass of water seated before me and smiled. "You're
saying sorry for water?" he laughed. "We're not in that bad a drought."

"I meant for wandering your apartment. Seems pretty skeevy if you ask me."

"To each their own," Guy shrugged. "Besides—I wouldn't have left you
here alone if I didn't trust you."

I narrowed my eyes in wayward confusion before lifting my glass and taking
another sip of my water.

"But enough of that," Guy said. He grabbed the paper bags and began to
unload their contents. "I really wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for,
so I just grabbed sausage biscuits and hashbrowns. There's coffee and soft
drinks over there."

"Uh... thanks?" I asked.

Guy's deep, raucous laugh echoed throughout the apartment. "Yeah—sorry
about that. Not very often a guy buys you breakfast after he sleeps with
you, huh?"

"It wasn't that," I replied. "I was just surprised that you'd bought for
both of us."

"Why not? You're here, I've got a car, and there's practically food around
every corner. I'll even drive you home when you decide you're tired of
hanging around here, though you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

While my immediate response was to question his motives, I didn't push
it. He seemed genuine—at least, in the sense that he wasn't a complete
asshole who was a fuck-and-dump. And he had listed `friendship' on his
profile, so maybe he really did want to be friends—or at least friends
with benefits.

Reaching forward, I took one of the sausage biscuits in hand and took a
bite out of it, nodding as Guy passed over one of the two Styrofoam cups
marked clearly with cola.

"Thanks," I managed through a mouthful.

Guy nodded and dug into his own breakfast, alternating between bites of the
biscuit and sips of coffee. My peculiar interest continued to lay in his
eyes—which, now revealed in full color, were far more striking than
they'd been last night.

Was it a birth defect, maybe? Genetic? An injury?

Then again, if he'd ever been injured, he sure hadn't shown it last night.

I blinked when I realized how caught up I'd been in his appearance and
blushed when I caught his gaze on me.

"Eyes?" he asked.

"Yeah," I smiled. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's cool."

"It's hard not to look at them. They're beautiful."

"All the boys say they're a sucker for pretty eyes," Guy smiled, revealing
perfectly-straight and white teeth. "Yours aren't so bad yourself."

I laughed. "They're gray. Not much to them."

"Maybe not, but how many people do you see with gray eyes?"

I didn't reply—not because I didn't want to, but because I wasn't sure
how. He did have a point. It wasn't often you saw people with a blue eye
color pale enough to pass for gray.

"Guess you've got a point there," I replied.

We finished eating breakfast and lounged about his sunroom for a
while—he in a tight-fitting T and jeans, me in my T-shirt and
boxers. Gentleman as he was, Guy hadn't bothered to mention my attire,
which made the situation all the more comfortable considering how awkward I
already felt.

Guy tilted his head back and let the sun strike the curve of his stubbly
neck. "Nice day today," he said. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said. "Hey... I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

"No. Why?"

"Just thought I'd ask. Most guys have their Saturdays planned out."

"I'm more of a homebody than anything," Guy shrugged, making the trademark
stretch of the arms over the head before setting one across my
shoulders. "Seriously—if I didn't want you here, I'd've taken you home
already."

"I'm just making sure."

"What about you? You have anything to do?"

"Not really," I said.

Guy's eyes flickered with question. I shook him off with a smile and wave
of my hand.

"Trust me—I lead a pretty boring life."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing much at the moment. I'm kinda... wandering."

"Ah. I see." Guy tightened his hold around my shoulders and looked toward
one of the windows. "Hey—probably a stupid question, considering the
circumstance, but... you wanna go out with me?"

"Huh?" I asked.

"For drinks, dinner—just that. So we can get to know each other a little
more. Yannow... beyond last night."

"I'm not objecting to last night," I laughed. "Dinner would be nice,
though. Anything in mind?"

"The Texas boy in me's thinking Tex-Mex. I know this place that has killer
margaritas. And their food—God, the food. But seriously—the
margaritas are where it's at."

"I can get down with that," I smiled. "Sounds good."

"Cool. How about, uh... tomorrow night? Eight-ish?"

"I'd like that."

"Ok. It's a date." Guy stood and offered a hand. "Also—I hate to kick
you out all of a sudden, but I'm sure you have other things to
do. Besides—the longer you stay here, the more I want to fuck you
again."

I laughed and took his hand. "In due time," I smiled. "In due time."

After dressing, we walked out the door and made our way toward the parking
garage.

The minute we got in the car, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd fucked up
by saying that.


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