A Touch of Winter (A Short Story) Read Free Page B

and swear words. So much better than the tears and defeat he had seen in her face earlier.
    He spent a few minutes searching the cupboards in Kit’s kitchen, which were filled with weird vegetarian pseudo-foods and lentils, looking for suitable equipment. Just in case, he checked the freezer and laughed when he saw it was stuffed with large rib-eye steaks. Kit hadn’t turned Kev vegetarian yet, and he was betting on his friend remaining a meat-and-two-veg man until his dying day.
    Jack found other useful toys in the rest of the house and returned with his haul. Her eyes widened as she looked at the items in his arms. 'What are you doing to do with those?'
    'You’ll see.' He touched the foot she had managed to wiggle free, and she flinched, although it had been a mere brush of his fingers. No matter how mad she was, Abbie wasn’t immune to him. 'Or maybe you shouldn’t.'
    He remembered Abbie talking about how her inner editor was always taking note of what was happening around her, in case she needed to run or so she could write about it later. It was time to silence that editor.
    Jack pulled her tee up over her head, leaving her mouth and nose free, but keeping her eyes covered. It had the added bonus of trapping her arms close to her head. She spluttered. 'You bastard.' But she hadn’t said 'stop'.
    'Language,' he reprimanded her, but he couldn’t get upset, not when he had that delectable view spread out in front of him. He sat on the couch and traced a finger down her collarbone, between her breasts, over her trembling stomach, and along her mound. Still bare, he was pleased to see.
    'Very nice. But you didn’t file a lingerie report this morning. What colour do you call those panties?'
    'You can see them.' She sounded surly and he laughed.
    'I know, but it’s your job to tell me.'
    She couldn’t see and had to think for a moment to remember what she had put on that morning. 'Ashes of roses.'
    Jack laughed. 'Writers! Can’t you just say pink?'
    He drew his finger down one thigh, so rounded and enticing he wanted to bite it. Maybe later. She quivered in response.
    'Now the rules of this game are simple. You say "stop" and it’s all over. Otherwise, you tell me how I make you feel. That’s all. Talk and tell me what you feel, and I’ll react appropriately. Don’t talk, and you won’t enjoy it. Understand?'
    She nodded. 'What’s the catch?'
    'No catch.'
    Jack moved off the couch and picked up the first of his finds, a long white feather he had liberated from a vase in Kit and Kevin’s bedroom. He had a much better use for it. He swept it over Abbie’s stomach. She sucked in a breath and moaned. He liked that reaction, but it wasn’t what he wanted.
    'Naughty,' he said gently. 'You’re supposed tell me what it feels like. So I won’t do that again.'
    He ignored her cry of disappointment, and picked up an ice-cube. He glided it between her breasts, fascinated by the way the film of melted ice gleamed on her skin.
    'Cold,' she cried. 'Cold. Wet.' She shook slightly.
    'Good, that’s what I want to hear. What else?' He glided the cube up the slope of one breast.
    She shivered. 'So cold, it’s almost burning. I can feel water sliding down under my arm. Wet.' He puffed on the damp skin and she shook.
    'Good girl. Now you’re getting the idea.' This time he took a rose and brushed it up and down her body.
    'What is that? It feels soft. Damp? It’s gentle.' He circled her belly button with the rose, then held it close to her nose so she could smell it. 'A rose? Oh, that’s nice.' The rose left a torn petal in her hair when he moved it around her face. As she relaxed, he allowed on thorn to scratch her lightly and she cried out. 'That hurts.'
    'Even roses have thorns.' But he whisked the head of the rose over her again until she relaxed.
    'Now,' he said. 'I notice that you’ve gotten thinner, and I distinctly remember that we had a discussion about what would happen if you stopped eating.' And then traced a