“I’ll start talking again if you don’t get your mouth back here.” Jaq strained forward, wriggling her fingers so the wind turned, blew Isolde’s hair about frenziedly.
“I don’t take orders.” Isolde pulled her scraggly hair back with a hand.
“You take them from me,” said Jaq, cocky as ever.
Isolde wanted to be more annoyed with that, but as she stood there, wind whipping her hair, frost snaking up her legs, she knew that was one of the reasons she was drawn to Jaq. Jaq had never been intimidated by Isolde’s power—no, she wanted to match it. Jaq had always intended to be an equal.
And that was hot as the burn of ice.
Still, Isolde lingered as though hesitating. She didn’t want to go too eagerly to Jaq. She was in control, no one else, and what she decided to do to handle an incident in her kingdom was entirely up to her, and her alone. She returned Jaq’s smug smile.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Jaq. When have I ever taken an order from you?”
“When you realized you want to see if you can turn your lips purple.”
The thought had crossed Isolde’s mind, the cool blue of Jaq’s mouth on her own commanding red one. What such a union would produce…they were both already hot enough to melt ice.
“Hmm,” said Isolde, touching the bottom of Jaq’s lip with a finger. “Should I take that to mean you’re offering a trade instead of feeling the full weight of my wrath?”
“You should take it to mean I’m telling you to kiss me,” said Jaq, taking the fingertip between her lips and circling it with her tongue. “If you like it, you might consider releasing me. My hands work magic, you know.”
Isolde pulled her hand back, chill desire running down her spine to between her dripping legs. She finally dared to look Jaq in the eyes, those stormy eyes, and let herself be pulled in by them. As she moved forward to press her lips on Jaq’s again, she made a gentle motion with her hand, releasing her hold on the ice restraining Jaq. This time Jaq engaged, kissing back, tongue striving to meet Isolde’s.
Jaq tasted like the cool burn of peppermint, fiery in its intensity, bold as winter. Isolde could not get enough; she ran her hands through Jaq’s spiky blue hair, pulling Jaq to her. Jaq twisted against her icy bonds and pressed herself against Isolde’s chest; the moment her wrists slipped free from the ice restraints, she tangled her hands in Isolde’s hair. Droplets from Jaq’s wrists dripped onto Isolde’s shoulders and she shuddered, pulling Jaq closer as though to claim her warmth.
Isolde freed a hand to wave forth a bubble of ice, encasing them in a small space that would warm quickly. Jaq pulled back entirely when she noticed, a flick of her hand sending whorls of frost climbing over the outside of the ice bubble, blocking them from view, should anyone be foolish enough to follow Isolde out to a confrontation.
“Mine will hold,” said Jaq. “Yours?”
“Please,” said Isolde, gathering all the snow and ice under the dome to her, then sending it outward to rim the bubble. Underneath lay cushions of old grass. As Jaq raised an eyebrow at them, Isolde moved forward to slide her vest off, let it drop to the ground. Jaq turned a mischievous grin on Isolde.
“Why, Highness, I thought you were here to send me away.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” said Isolde, kissing Jaq again. Her hands ran up Jaq’s sides, feeling the soft skin beneath her palms. Isolde’s heart raced; this was as far as she and Jaq had gotten before she’d stopped them months ago and Jaq had stormed off. Isolde let her hands drop and took a step back.
“It doesn’t seem to be very effective,” said Jaq, then she reached forward and took Isolde’s hands. Isolde let them be pulled back to Jaq’s body. “But I’m not going to resist whatever the queen has in mind for me.”
“You resist everything,” said Isolde, but she began to enjoy Jaq’s body again.
Jaq tilted her head back slightly, eyes half closed, before reacting to Isolde’s words. “Careful,” she said. “You insult me too much and we’ll be back to fighting.”
Isolde leaned forward, kissed Jaq again, then whispered into her ear, “You never could have won.”
“Someday I’m going to prove you wrong, Highness.”
The words were spoken seriously, like a promise. Isolde blinked, but Jaq’s mouth had descended to her neck and those cool blue lips kissed their way down to her clavicle. She pulled Jaq closer, clutching the feel of the woman to herself. The air around them was already warming, trapped in her ice bubble, which she’d spelled to withstand the heat. Jaq’s frost no longer curled up around her legs and Isolde wondered when it had stopped.
“You have someone lace you into these things?” asked Jaq, her hands playing with the ties in back of Isolde’s dress.
“I hope you’re good at it, because you’ll be getting me back into it when we’re through here,” said Isolde, running her hands down to Jaq’s tight pants. She could barely even get her fingers between the leather and Jaq’s skin, and right now all she wanted to do was feel herself against Jaq’s skin. How hot they would be, nestled together under a dome of ice and winter. How good it would feel, to have contact with another person, to have that person be Jaq…
“Knew I was good with puzzles for a reason,” said Jaq.
Isolde felt her dress loosen, closed her eyes as Jaq slipped it off. Standing bared before Jaq made her suddenly self-conscious, and Isolde didn’t know whether she wanted to see the expression on Jaq’s face.
As though noticing her apprehension, she could hear Jaq pulling off her own tight clothes. When Jaq spoke, her voice was tinged with appreciation.
“Who would’ve thought you’d be completely naked under that dress?”
Isolde opened her eyes in time to see Jaq kick aside her pants.
“Why? It’s not like you’re wearing any underwear.”
“Ah, but I’m not you,” said Jaq, moving toward her. Her lips met Isolde’s again, her arms took hold of Isolde, wrapping her in warmth and strength, and the press of desire. Isolde found herself opening up, pressing back, annoyed with how difficult it was standing. Jaq ran a hand down the curves of her side to her hip, drew a finger over it down toward where Isolde’s desire burned.
Isolde pulled back, lowered herself down to the cushion of grass. It smelled sharp; she spread her legs, lifted a hand to her breast. Jaq stared, gray eyes large, as Isolde beckoned with her other hand, a motion similar to the one she had made earlier when they were fighting. But this would be a different kind of battle.
“Come,” she said, “Let’s see how you’ll serve your queen. Earn yourself your freedom to leave here.”
Jaq lowered herself over Isolde, lips hovering just above Isolde’s.
“And the land?” she asked.
“Don’t push your luck,” said Isolde, and pulled Jaq’s mouth to her own.
Isolde felt the urgency in Jaq’s kiss and guided the woman’s hands to her body, right where she wanted to be touched. Jaq responded immediately to the direction, running her palms over Isolde’s soft skin, squeezing her full breasts. Isolde gasped into Jaq’s mouth as Jaq straddled her thigh.
“Oh,” groaned Isolde as Jaq rubbed herself against Isolde’s thigh. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of Jaq’s touch all over her. Isolde felt wonderfully, deliciously vulnerable, and it thrilled her. She did not let herself get close to anyone for just that reason, how it caused her to let down her guards, show an opening. It was a weakness.
But something about Jaq made Isolde feel she could trust this woman. It was safe enough around Jaq, and Isolde relished that feeling, of opening herself up and not getting stabbed in the back for it. Jaq was making herself equally vulnerable, and that too was exciting.
Jaq’s hand slid lower, through the curls of Isolde’s hair between her legs. Jaq moved her other hand aside and fastened her lips around one of Isolde’s nipples at the same time her fingers stroked along either side of Isolde’s hood. Gasping, Isolde clutched at the now-abandoned breast, her hips m
oving to Jaq’s motions.
“Mmm,” said Jaq, releasing the nipple and beginning to slowly kiss her way down Isolde’s body. “Turns out I can craft an amazing wearable ice cock—”
“Another time,” breathed Isolde, pressing Jaq’s face down farther. Jaq willingly descended between her legs, but not without her own form of protest. With her magic, she pulled at the snow heaped up at the edges of the dome, and within moments Isolde felt the chill of frost curls emanating from Jaq’s fingertips. They wound over Isolde’s thighs, lingering wherever Jaq touched, melting away after several seconds. Isolde arched her back, trying to bring her aching clit closer to Jaq’s lips. Isolde remembered the way Jaq had taken her fingertip into her mouth and strove not to shudder too hard at the thought.
“Careful what you promise me, Highness,” said Jaq, pressing a kiss in the mound of hair right above Isolde’s swollen clit. “You might regret it later.”
“Stop…talking,” hissed Isolde, glaring down at Jaq, who offered up one of her cocky smiles before descending.
Her mouth was as good as Isolde hoped, as she feared. She could easily get addicted to Jaq’s talents, to the way Jaq made her feel. With how busy Isolde normally was, she rarely spent much time on her own needs. It had been a while since she had come, and what Jaq was doing to her now…the warmth of her swirling, flicking tongue, the coolness of the frost fronds…Isolde’s mind shut off.
Jaq shifted and one of her hands vanished, although Isolde could not complain at this point. One, two—she felt too good to care. A moment later and she realized Jaq had shifted so she could touch herself, mouth still on Isolde. Isolde imagined Jaq’s icy fingertips between her legs, playing her fat clit like she played the air to make her frost magic. The thought of that was so delicious Isolde focused on it, twisting her own nipple hard as she came, squirming.
Jaq pressed down on Isolde’s thigh with her hand, determined to help Isolde ride out the sensations, but it was obviously difficult. Jaq puffed, her motions erratic, and Isolde realized she too was coming. She leaned up, pushing Jaq’s head aside with a hand, and continued circling her sensitive clit with a finger. Jaq’s hand moved to replace her head, and Isolde gasped as one icy-cold finger, then two, slid inside her, stroked pointedly the most sensitive inner parts of her.
Isolde had been holding back, but now she cried out, half-moan, half-scream. Jaq groaned, too, and slid her fingers out when Isolde retracted her hand, breathing heavily. Isolde leaned back against the grass, playing idly with a few strands of hair, eyes closed. Jaq wasn’t going anywhere, not while her bubble stood.
“What do you know,” said Jaq, moving to lay down next to Isolde. She stretched out a hand that smelled like Isolde and stroked her once-red bottom lip with a finger. “Guess it does turn purple.”
“Shit,” grumbled Isolde, though not very angry. “I’ll have to fix that before I go back to the castle.” She tried not to be distracted by the smell of herself on Jaq, by how it made her want to try out that ice cock right now. Jaq’s lips pressed against Isolde’s and she was so overwhelmed with the desire to spend all day in this bubble with Jaq that she pushed her aside and sat up.
Jaq sat up, too, watching as Isolde crossed to grab their clothes.
“I would have thought you were into cuddling,” she said.
Isolde threw her leather pants at her. “You need any help gluing on your clothes?” she asked, words a bit harsher than she intended. Isolde was irritated now, for no reason she could pinpoint, but she knew it had to do with Jaq. That she had allowed herself to take any pleasure with Jaq, maybe, or that she was hoping this wouldn’t be the only time.
“No, but you need help,” said Jaq, surprisingly non-confrontational.
Isolde was irritated with that, too. She struggled into her dress, shrugging off Jaq’s helpful hands. “I can manage,” she snapped, but Jaq merely dodged her shoves and popped around to her back, hands lacing up what Isolde could not reach.
“You’re not supposed to be grumpy after sex,” said Jaq, as though pointing out something obvious. She backed away, shrugging into her vest. “Unless it’s because you lost all this land to me…”
“I absolutely did not,” said Isolde, glaring at Jaq as she pulled on her pants. “You will return to your territory, removing your frost magic as you go.”
“I don’t know, Highness, I don’t think I was the one who lost here.”
“If you care to continue fighting me,” began Isolde, but Jaq held up her hands, cocky smile back on her face. Isolde noticed her lips were purplish now instead of blue, and could not keep herself from blushing when she thought about what she looked like elsewhere. Fearing Jaq would notice, she instead brought down the ice bubble, letting in a rush of freezing air and toppling frost fronds over them.
“No, no,” said Jaq, brushing frost off her hair, though Isolde thought her blue spikes looked good tipped in white. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our fight, let’s finish it another time. Are you free Thursday afternoon? There’s a juicy piece of island on a lake on the southwest edge of your kingdom that I think I’ll be taking then.”
Isolde crossed her arms and glared.
“See you then,” said Jaq, grinning, and walked off into the frost-covered grasses.
Isolde watched her go, making sure she removed her frost magic, trying not to think and failing. It should have been obvious from the moment Isolde had set eyes on her that nothing would be easy with Jaq.
Still, she would probably show up on Thursday. She had to look out for her kingdom, after all.
Unexpected Dilemmas
“Are you picking up? Chantal?”
Nessa ran another command through the large transmitter she kept in her back room. It indicated nothing wrong on its end; in fact, it confirmed it was finally getting through to the transmitter Chantal had been using on the Ice Star twenty minutes earlier. Nessa bit her lip. That the connection had cut out at all was a bad sign.
“Chan?” she asked again, hoping nothing serious had gone wrong. She’d looked up the Ice Star when Chantal had said she was booking it for the cheap flight and had seen how old it was—as far as Nessa was concerned, the old clunker should have been pulled from long space flight years ago and either scrapped or used for remote controlled shipments between Earth and the moon. But that was not how business worked.
“Chantal? Are you receiving? Can you respond?”
Nessa’s heart sped up, worried. She’d turned off the news stream but flicked it back on now, but there was nothing being reported about the Ice Star. If there was trouble, reportbots hadn’t gotten hold of it yet.
“Ness?”
Chantal’s voice was a relief to hear; Nessa felt her body relax a little despite the fact Chantal sounded a little dazed.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” said Nessa. “You cut out. Are you okay?”
“All the power went out,” said Chantal. The faint tremor of fear was unmistakable in her voice, something Nessa could identify well after her years aboard a ship. She wished she could be there with Chantal now, reassure her. Nessa had been taking scans of the Ice Star and structurally, from the outside, it appeared to be holding up.
But she couldn’t speak for whatever had happened internally that had cut the power. It was a bit of a miracle she’d been able to hack through to Chantal’s transmitter to begin with, rusty as she was with the commands.
“I fell in the dark,” said Chantal. “I don’t think I have a concussion. I didn’t realize how dark it was in one of these things.”
“You’ll be fine,” said Nessa, remembering the onboard blackouts she’d experienced from her days in the engineering section of a livestock shipping vessel. They felt weird, but were harmless. “Is the captain issuing an apology?”
“Nothing’s coming through. I’m trying different onboard channels and frequencies, but I can’t get anything to work.”
Chantal’s fear was creeping up towa
rd panic. Nessa wished more than anything she could be there with her now. It was unbearably frustrating, knowing the Ice Star was hours away from Europa orbit, and here Nessa was stuck moonside in her coffee shop, her years of experience useless to Chantal. She swallowed. Her own worry wouldn’t help.
“Can you run a scan, Chan? I’ve hacked into your basic systems and everything’s stable from what I can tell. Maybe we can figure out what’s going on.”
Nessa waited as Chantal mumbled an agreement and did as asked. Her mind raced, too many thoughts jumbled around at once, all fighting for the most brainpower. She ran through the options of what could be wrong with the ship and how she could help Chantal get to an emergency section and out of danger, if there was any danger. And if there was…none of this seemed fair. Nessa and Chantal were finally going to meet, after too long, too much distance. Nothing would be so sweet as that first touch of someone Nessa had loved from afar for so long. To think it could be over before it even began…But this was unfair to Chantal, who must be terrified. She had confessed to Nessa this was her first space flight, and if there was anything wrong with the old clunker, Nessa wouldn’t forgive herself if she couldn’t figure it out—
“Ness?”
She blinked, Chantal’s voice pulling her out of her frenzied cyclical thinking.
“Here,” she said, hoping none of her own worry came through in her voice. It was the last thing Chantal needed.
“Okay. The onboard programming’s on the fritz, I think that’s why it’s getting cold in here.” Though Chantal’s voice started shaky, it grew stronger the more she spoke. The temperature worried Nessa—it could get too cold too fast in space—but it was best to wait until she had all the information. “But it can do intermittent scans. The life readings indicate two people are dead on the bridge, but I can’t get info on whom.”
Frost and Frontiers Page 2
