Snowburn

by E J Frost

  Kez sighs and begins to disentangle

  herself from me. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  Before she rises completely, I catch her

  waist and pull her back down to me for a

  kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Oh.” She props herself on her elbows

  and looks down at me. “Are you sure? Nev’s

  going to be a mess. When she’s like this, she

  – she says things she doesn’t mean. Things

  that will just embarrass everyone later.”

  That could be interesting. Particularly if

  what the beautiful girl has to say is about

  Kez. “D’you want me to stay here?”

  “Um, no, I mean, I could use a hand with

  her. I just don’t want you to be put off.”

  After finding out that this wasn’t all an

  act, that she came to me because she wants

  me, not just someone who will kill for her,

  there’s not much that could put me off. “Can’t

  be any worse than some of the things I saw in

  S.A.W.L., kitten.”

  She smiles and gives me a kiss that tastes

  of gratitude, and rendang. “You’re amazing.

  You know that, right?”

  “So I’ve been told.” I haven’t, actually.

  I’ve been generally unappreciated, even by

  the few people I’ve genuinely tried to help. I

  can’t remember a single one of them saying

  thank you. Nor can I remember anyone

  looking at me the way Kez is looking at me

  now. “You’re goo-ing on me. Get off.”

  She lifts herself off me hastily. “The

  towel—”

  “Sentiment.” I pretend to wipe off my

  chest. “Ick.”

  She pushes at my chest, heaves a little

  mock huff. I chuckle. She sits back on her

  heels and looks around the dark room. “Do

  you mind if I turn the lights on? I’m never

  going to find my clothes in here.”

  “Go ahead.” I close my eyes so the lights

  don’t flare in my cat’s eye. I hear Kez tap the

  control panel next to the bed, and the lights

  stain my eyelids red. I open my eyes and roll

  up onto one elbow. Watch Kez walk away

  from the bed. She really does have the most

  beautiful ass, especially when she’s wearing

  the marks of my hand across each cheek.

  She crosses to her clothes rack and pulls

  a pair of soft, black pants off a magnehanger.

  “No,” I veto the serviceable pants. We’re

  in a safe place where she doesn’t need to

  wear protective clothes. And we’re not

  gonna be up for very long if I can help it. I

  want to see her in something sexy that keeps

  us both in the mood.

  She holds the pants out. “No?”

  “Wear what you were gonna wear if

  you’d had to get noodles and knock on my

  gate.”

  She purses her lips. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, don’t look.”

  I close my eyes and wait until the sounds

  of her drawing on her clothes stop. When I

  open my eyes she’s standing next to the bed

  wearing a little black dress that falls to her

  thighs. The dress is some soft, knitted fabric,

  raveled in several places so her skin peeps

  through, pearl against the black knit. It

  reminds me of the ripped fishnets she was

  wearing when she first came to me, in all the

  right ways. She’s pulled her dreads up and

  tied them at the back of her head so the

  curves of her throat and shoulders are

  exposed. My palms instantly itch to touch all

  that soft, sweet skin.

  “That’s more like it.”

  “You like?” She holds out her arms and

  turns a little so the dress swishes around her,

  showing off her slender curves.

  The little monster’s already showing its

  appreciation. I rise off the bed and pull her

  to me. Run my hands down to her elbows so

  I can feel the dress’s softness. Slide my arm

  around her waist and hold her close while I

  look down at her and let the full force of my

  admiration fill my eyes.

  “Oh,” she breathes. “Hale—”

  “Let’s go take care of your friend. Then

  I’ll show you exactly how much I like that

  dress.” I cup her jaw in my palm. Splay my

  fingertips down her throat. Satisfy the itch.

  Her skin’s just as warm, sweet and silky as it

  looks.

  “Okay.” She grins, that full mischievous

  grin. “You can come like that. I’m sure it’d

  make Nev feel better.”

  I give her a smack on the ass, softened by

  her dress, and hunt around in the clothes on

  the floor until I find my pants.

  The mess is fairly messy. Nev’s shaking,

  sick and weepy, when we find her in the

  house’s big communal bathroom. She’s out

  of the tub, sitting on the floor in a pile of

  towels. The one wrapped around her head

  like a turban has slipped over her eye.

  Another gapes around her chest, showing me

  more of her swollen breasts than I want to

  see. She doesn’t make any attempt to cover

  herself when Kez and I walk in.

  Kez drops down onto one knee in front of

  Nev and immediately begins tucking in the

  towels. “Nevie, how’re you doing, honey?”

  she asks gently.

  I lean against the bathroom door, far

  enough back that I don’t have to look at

  Nev’s tits while Kez covers them, close

  enough to help if Kez needs me to. I take in

  the bathroom while avoiding the cleavage

  display. Kez has splashed out on this

  ‘fresher. There’s a huge tub that’s still half-

  full of steaming water. Separate shower and

  a walled enclosure for the zap can. Nicely

  private. A row of three sinks. The floor

  looks like tile but is warm and slightly

  resilient underfoot. More tiles stretch half-

  way up the walls; the upper walls are

  covered with flexypane. Most of the panes

  show shifting floral designs that complement

  the patterns on the tiles. The panes over the

  sinks are mirrored, while the panes opposite

  the tub have been quartered and display

  several different vid programs: news flash,

  some kinda documentary about Kuseros’s

  oceans, and a couple of game shows. All the

  moving images can’t be restful for Nev’s

  Hex-addled brain. I reach over and tap the

  screens until the ocean documentary fills the

  panes. Rolling waves, that’s better.

  “That’s queasifying,” the beautiful girl

  says sourly.

  I glance at Kez, who shrugs. I tap the vid

  again and pull up one of the news flashes.

  Bloodied and beaten water rioters in the

  streets of New Brunny. Much better.

  “We must have just missed that,” Kez

  observes.

  We might have caused that. Dropping the

  E.M.P. bomb certainly didn’t help the

  situation. But Kez is involved with the
<
br />   beautiful girl, so I don’t offer any comment.

  “Nevie, do you want to try eating

  something?” Kez asks.

  “No. I just want to lie down.” A petulant

  whine creeps into her voice. “I’m so cold.”

  “Okay, honey. Can you walk?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Kez glances at me. “Snow, could you

  —?”

  I nod. Cross the room to the beautiful girl

  and swing her up into my arms. She really is

  frighteningly light for how pregnant she is.

  “Where are we going?” I ask Kez.

  She tips her chin at a door across from

  the one through which we entered. “Through

  the kitchen and game room. First door on the

  right.”

  “Can I sleep in your bed?” Nev whines.

  “I can’t get warm in mine.”

  I glance at Kez and lift an eyebrow. If

  Hex-head sleeps in Kez’s bed, I’m sleeping

  somewhere else. Kez keeps her eyes on

  Nev’s face, and keeps her expression gentle,

  but she shakes her head firmly. “We’ll get

  you warm.”

  Before Nev has a chance to protest, I

  begin moving. Kez trails me, pressing her

  hand against my upper back as I pass her. I

  like having the reminder of her presence

  there, and I figure she’ll steer me if I turn

  wrong.

  There aren’t many ways to turn. Through

  the empty kitchen and lounge where the boys

  were playing games before dinner. The big

  screen is dark. Couches empty. Left down a

  hallway that separates the bedrooms from the

  greenhouse area. The hallway lights come on

  as we enter, as does the bedroom light when

  I turn right as instructed. Otherwise, the

  house is dark.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask Kez.

  “Duncan said he was going to Bounce

  after dinner. Ape and Gig probably went

  with him.”

  “What’s Bounce?” I ask.

  “It’s a club,” Kez says. “They’ve got

  some harnesses rigged above the dance floor

  so you can flip around in the air over the

  dancers. It’s fun. We go a lot.”

  I glance over my shoulder at her. “You

  like to dance?”

  She nods, big blue eyes meeting mine.

  “Me too.”

  The blue eyes crinkle into a smile.

  “Horizontal mambo?”

  “My specialty.”

  That gets me the full mischievous grin I

  want. I wink at her before turning my

  attention to navigating the beautiful girl’s

  room. It’s almost as messy as Junior Pimp’s.

  And, I discover as a brown and black shape

  streaks out from under a clothes-draped

  mound that might be a chair, there are rabbits

  in the wreckage.

  I sweep junk off the bed with my forearm

  and dump the beautiful girl into the cleared

  space. The towels slip again, but I’m getting

  inured to the sight of her tits. The only thing

  I’m really interested in seeing is how quickly

  she can fall asleep.

  She tucks herself into a ball in the middle

  of the bed. Pulls the rumpled covers around

  herself and shivers down into them. Kez

  starts clucking like a mother hen. She tugs on

  the covers. The beautiful girl doesn’t want to

  relinquish them. She twists herself deeper

  into the mess.

  I lean against a wall – the only clear spot

  in the room – and watch the short tug of war.

  Kez wins and gets the bed straightened

  out. By the time she does, Nev’s eyes are

  leaking again, whether from pain, frustration

  or just self-pity, I can’t tell. Kez sits on the

  edge of the bed and tries talking to the

  beautiful girl, who responds in whiny

  monosyllables. The whining climbs to a

  higher, more strident pitch. None of it is

  revealing, or interesting. It’s just noisy. A

  never-ending litany of poor me. Kez’s efforts

  to calm Nev down by brushing her hair don’t

  seem to reduce the noise level any.

  Finally, the whining gets too much for

  me. I climb onto the bed behind the beautiful

  girl and pull her back against my chest.

  Kez’s eyes meet mine over her friend’s

  shoulder. Those big blue eyes narrow;

  there’s a look in them that could be . . . hurt.

  I watch Kez for a moment. I want to shut

  Nev up, but not at the cost of hurting my

  kitten. I don’t know why she dislikes seeing

  me hold Nev, but it clearly bothers her.

  I wink at Kez to reassure her. Gesture for

  her to continue brushing the beautiful girl’s

  hair while I massage her neck. A lot of the

  whining has been about how cold she is, so I

  tuck her against my chest and let my body

  heat warm her. The whining drops to a

  tolerable level, and then off completely as I

  rub my thumbs up and down the vasal nerves

  behind her ears. Finally, she drops into a

  stupor. Once I’m sure she’s unconscious, I

  lower her into the nest of blankets and slide

  off the bed.

  “Wow,” Kez says. “I’ve never seen her

  fall asleep that fast.”

  “Magic touch,” I tell her, wriggling my

  fingers. “Get some more towels.”

  The beautiful girl will need them by the

  time she wakes up. Stimulating the vasal

  nerve reduces heart rate and blood pressure

  – to the point of unconsciousness – but it also

  cranks the bowels into overdrive. I’ve heard

  Hex makes you constipated, so maybe one

  will offset the other, but I doubt it. She’ll

  wake up messier than she went down. She

  deserves it for being so fucking noisy.

  After we’ve got the towels positioned

  and the beautiful girl tucked under the

  covers, I grab Kez around the waist. She

  squeaks, struggles for a moment, and then

  lets me throw her over my shoulder.

  “Where are we going?” she asks

  breathlessly.

  I bounce her on my shoulder, run my hand

  down over the curves of her ass, so easily

  accessible in this position. “Back to bed,” I

  tell her. Where we belong.

  Chapter 15

  We fuck all night. Fast and furious, slow

  and gentle. Every way I can imagine, until

  my dick is so sore that even brushing up

  against Kez’s soft ass makes me wince. We

  fall asleep wrapped around each other. Best

  sleep I can remember. No nightmares. No

  jerking awake, shaking and reaching for

  ghosts. When I do wake, gently sliding from

  sleep to warm, drowsy awareness, Kez is

  right there, tucked tight against me.

  She wakes when I do. With one of those

  soft, sleepy, incredibly sexy murmurs. Her

  arm tightens across my chest. “You’re still

  here.”

  “Where else would I be?” I whisper

  back, not wanting to disturb the stillness of

  the sleeping house. The boys cam
e back in a

  brief rush of noise about an hour ago, while

  Kez was enthusiastically riding me again.

  Since then, the house has been quiet.

  “I don’t know . . . I mean, guys leave.”

  She snuggles against me.

  “Yeah?” Whoever did was an idiot. This

  might not be the best part about sleeping with

  Kez, but it’s pretty fucking close. I nuzzle her

  hair. Breathe in that soap scent that makes

  everything feel so fresh and clean. “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  She doesn’t get off the hook that easy. I

  shift onto my side, trap her against my body.

  “You owe me for sayin’ my name. Tell.”

  She sighs. “I don’t think any of the guys

  I’ve been with have stayed the night. Chain

  lived here and he always went back to his

  own room. I figured, I don’t know, maybe the

  rabbits put them off. At least a couple of

  them usually sleep on my bed.” She lifts her

  head a little. Surveys the end of the bed

  where, by the warmth and weight, I’d guess

  at least two rabbits are resting, although I

  haven’t bothered to look. “Or maybe I

  snore.”

  “Louder than a burla-burla,” I tell her,

  referring to a native bird known for its loud,

  snorting call.

  “You’re horrible, you know that? I don’t

  snore.”

  She does, but I don’t mind. I like

  everything about sleeping with her, even her

  soft, breathy little snores. “So, how many

  have there been?”

  “Oh, we’re not going to play the numbers

  game, are we?”

  “Yeah.” And unless she’s been a nun, I’ll

  win. Long periods of incarceration cut down

  on your number of potential partners. Unless

  you like them hairy.

  “Twelve, okay? Including you.”

  I poke her in the ribs. “You’re what,

  twenty-five standard?”

  “Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight in three

  months.”

  A little older than I expected. She doesn’t

  look it. “Okay, twenty-seven, and you slept

  with your first guy at what, fifteen?”

  She sighs. “Nineteen. I told you, no guys

  at the House. After that, I had Ape to look

  after. Having a little brother around all the

  time is not conducive to nookie. Honestly, I

  don’t understand how women with a ton of

  kids find the time.”

  I chuckle. “Okay, nineteen. So it’s been

  eight years. And you’re tellin’ me there’s

  only been a guy or two a year? C’mon.”

  “You’re making me sound like a loser.

  Thanks.”