Snowburn

by Frost, E J

  “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.”

  “You’re a beautiful girl.” I poke her again. “You don’t need to lie to me.”

  She yawns. “I’m not. I just . . . you know, I was around Nevie all the time. Guys go for her anyway. But like you said, it’s not for the right reasons. I didn’t want it to be like that. I didn’t want to have any . . . regrets afterwards. So I said no a lot more than I said yes.” Another yawn. “Okay, I told you mine.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  She nips my shoulder. “Tell.”

  “Five.”

  She looks up into my face. “Bullshit.”

  “No bullshit.” I rearrange my hold on her. “That’s how many women I’ve slept with. Including you.”

  “Five,” she says disbelievingly. “Wait, you said ‘slept with.’ How many have you had sex with?”

  “More than five.” But the rest have been pros. I paid them for an hour of relief. That’s what I got. I don’t remember their names; I couldn’t describe their faces, except for the girl with the amazing lips. It’s not that they don’t count. It’s just that it’s different.

  “Cheat.”

  “Truthfully, I don’t remember.” I tuck her a little closer. Run my fingers up and down the sweet curve of her upper back, avoiding the scar. “They weren’t anything like this.”

  “What were they like?” She sounds genuinely curious.

  “Professional.”

  “Oh.” She’s quiet for a moment, studying my face, although I doubt she can see much in the dark. Then she says more emphatically, “oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re, what, forty standard?”

  Cheeky kitten. I reach down and pinch her ass. “You’re just begging for another spankin’.”

  “I’m being serious!”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “Okay, thirty-five, and you’ve been doing it since you were, what, fifteen?”

  “About that.” I was probably sixteen when Selly first came to me, but close enough. “I see where you’re goin’ with this. You are definitely gonna end up with a red ass.”

  She giggles. “I just don’t want to be alone at the loser ball. So that’s like two a decade, right?”

  I cup her ass-cheek menacingly, but I’m not particularly inclined to carry through on the threat. I’m more than satisfied after our last go-round, and spanking her is way too much of a turn-on to do in any other context. But I can threaten, which is part of the fun. And I can always carry out the threat later.

  “Seriously.” She strokes my shoulder. “Why so few?”

  “Seriously?” When she nods, I consider it. Seriously. “Trust issues.”

  “Because women come to you for the wrong reasons?”

  “Yeah.” And because I’ve always been aware of my size and strength. Coupled with the way I like my sex, there’s always been more than a possibility that if I misread a woman’s interest, I could end up forcing myself on her. Something I swore, after Selly taught me how much fun sex could be, I would never, ever do. So paying for it has been safer, as well as less complicated. “And ‘cause I’ve spent long periods of time in a same-sex environment.”

  “Oh.” She ponders that for a moment. “That was stupid, wasn’t it? I should have asked how many men you’ve slept with.”

  I rap her ass-cheek with two fingers. “No, you should not.”

  She giggles. “Sorry, I just thought—”

  “What happened to takin’ a break from thinkin’? That is definitely too much thinkin’ outta you.”

  She cuddles close. Buries her face in my neck. “I love that you’ve only really been with four other girls. That’s so hot.”

  “Yeah?” It hasn’t felt hot. It’s felt . . . no, no point in thinking about how it’s felt. I don’t need to feel that way anymore.

  “Uh-huh. It’s like . . . no, I’m not saying it.”

  I roll so I’m on top of her. Hear a thump from the end of the bed and realize I’ve forcibly evicted a rabbit or two. That’ll teach them to sleep too near my feet. “You don’t get to keep any secrets from me.”

  “God, you’re heavy when we’re not doing it. Get off.” She pushes at me ineffectually.

  I settle more firmly on top of her, but slide my forearms under her shoulders so I’m holding my chest off her. She needs to be able to breathe to tell me what she was thinking.

  “Say it,” I coax.

  “No, you can’t make me sound like a moron more than twice in one night. I’m over my quota.”

  “Waaay over,” I drawl.

  “Prick.”

  “My arms’re getting tired.” I settle a little more heavily onto her. She gasps.

  “Get off!”

  “Can’t. I need to hear it.” And then I might need to fuck again. Lying on her like this, her soft body pressed all along the length of mine, her thighs cupping the little monster so I can feel each beat of my heart pulse through it, is giving me ideas.

  “Okay!” she gasps. “It’s like you’ve been waiting for me. Which I know you haven’t! So don’t give me that blank, sheesh, Kez is a moron but I’ll keep her around ‘cause she’s fun in bed look.”

  Not waiting, no. One in a billion is long odds, even for me. But I’m damn pleased with what’s found me. “Is that that look? Huh.”

  She struggles under me. “You could at least deny it! Now get off!”

  Oh, I’m going to get off all right. And so is she. “Kezra,” I say, dropping my voice deep and low. “You wanna know what that look is?”

  She stills as soon as I use her full name. Perfect. All of her responses are. She really is one in a billion.

  “Yes,” she says grudgingly.

  “That look is blank ‘cause I’ve spent too much time in places where showin’ what I’m really thinkin’ woulda gotten me killed.”

  “What do you—” She licks her lips, thinks better of what she was going to ask and tries again. “Will you tell me what you were thinking?”

  “Yeah, if you ask nicely.”

  She smiles. “Hale, what were you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking it’s like watchin’ the sun rise for the first time.”

  “I—” She lets out a breath slowly. Slides her arms around me. “Oh.”

  “That all you got to say?” ‘Cause that would be a first.

  “No, I, uh, I just don’t want to mess it up. Does that, um, mean what I think it means?”

  She’s right. She’s going to mess it up. “Shut up, kitten.”

  She sighs, and it’s a happy, contented sigh. Presses little kisses on my mouth and chin; squeezes me tight. Wriggles under me and rolls her hips so my cock is nestled between her thighs. Oh, we’re definitel
y going to fuck again. Except maybe it’s not just fucking. Maybe it’s something more.

  Sometime in the early hours, the room grows oppressively warm and Kez reaches out of the tangle of our bodies and the sheets to tap a control that opens a skylight. I watch the stars twinkle through it, framed by darkness, until I fall back to sleep.

  When I wake again, the skylight is a bright rectangle over our heads. Golden light and the pink clouds of Kuseros’s dawn. Kez is lying across me, her head on my chest, her fingertips tracing the muscles of the arm I’ve got wrapped around her. We lie like that for a long while, insulated against the cool morning air by the bedding and our shared warmth. Kez kisses my shoulder from time to time. Neither of us speaks. We’re both held silent by the sense that words will burst this fragile moment like a soap bubble.

  When the knock finally comes, Kez startles. As does a lump of rabbit that’s returned to sleep across my feet. Kez murmurs something that sounds like, “I’ll get it,” and rises slowly. She doesn’t drag a sheet with her or pull on clothes. Her bruised, scarred back is to me, and she must be aware of it, but she’s finally lost her self-consciousness. That makes me smile as I watch her cross the room.

  “Yeah?” She puts a hand against the door, holding it closed.

  “Kez?” Gig’s voice. “Deal brought a package. Said he was paid double to deliver it first thing. It’s addressed to you.”

  Kez cracks the door open and Gig’s arm emerges through the crack, proffering a small, black box.

  “I’ve scanned it,” Gig says. “It’s clean. Small piece of mech. No signal to or from.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Gig.” Kez takes the box, closes the door and returns to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “From Tyng.” It’s not a question.

  She nods. She opens the box slowly, takes out a flat plaz rectangle and sets it on the bed between my knees. “Threedy deck. Same as before.” She fiddles with the side of the little deck. “There.”

  She sits back against the wall, tucks herself against my side and pulls my arm tight around her. I turn my head and nuzzle her temple.

  The deck buzzes, a gentle vibration I feel up my legs. A moment later, a voice issues out of it. “Congratulations on the success of your first run.”

  Definitely a distorter. The voice is completely flat, almost mechanical. Could be a man or a woman, from anywhere. But we both know it’s Tyng.

  “Thank you,” Kez says.

  “Is there a reason you have turned off the vid?” Tyng asks.

  She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Better not add anything to the conversation, then.

  “I’m not dressed,” Kez responds without missing a beat.

  “Ah, yes. It is early and you are young. The young are fond of sleep.” There’s a pause, then Tyng says. “I said I would provide the details of your second run once the first was complete. You will collect the package from Zhonnys at noon today. Dock Eleven B. You will deliver it to the Cloudlands before midnight. Your pay for successful delivery is fifteen thousand credits. There will be no negotiation as to the price.”

  Kez lets her head hang forward. “Plus expenses,” she says. Immediately negotiating. I like her style.

  “What expenses do you anticipate?” the mechanical voice asks.

  She glances up at me. “Docking fees.” I mouth ‘a hundred’ at her. “Two hundred,” she says. I raise an eyebrow and she shrugs. “I’ll need to pay the Mirrormen for safe passage to the shore. That’s another five. And I might need to rent some finboards. That’s another hundred. Call it an even thou.”

  “Agreed.” It’s such an insignificant sum to Tyng that he doesn’t hesitate or quibble.

  “Package type?” Kez asks.

  “Organic. Less than a hundred kilos.”

  “A lot less than a hundred kilos or a little less? It makes a difference,” Kez says. She taps her fingers against the back of my hand as she speaks. I don’t think she’s aware of what she’s doing. She’s intent, wholly focused on the negotiation. Of course, it’s her ass that’s at stake.

  “To hazard a guess, sixty kilos. It would be impolite to ask. Never ask a woman her age or weight.” Through the distorter, Tyng’s chuckle is the grating squeak of a rusty hinge.

  “Is the package a woman?” Kez asks, her voice rising a little.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah. I don’t transport people.”

  “Why not?” Tyng asks, incurious, although whether it’s the distorter or lack of curiosity is hard to say.

  “They can’t keep up.”

  “She will. You are cut from the same cloth, you and she.” Tyng pauses for a moment, then he says, “In any event, you will transport anything I wish you to. Remember what you owe me. What your family owes mine.”

  Kez hangs her head. I stroke her shoulder with my free hand.

  “So you’re asking me to smuggle a person into the Cloudlands?” Kez says finally.

  “A person and her equipment. Try not to get caught, or killed. Neither will do your brother any good.”

  “Fuck,” Kez whispers.

  “Was that a no, Miz Kerryon?” Tyng asks.

  I didn’t know Kez had a last name.

  “That was I’ll be there at noon,” Kez responds grimly.

  We bathe and dress in silence. There are things to say, but neither of us is in a hurry to say them. Kez takes out work clothes and this morning I don’t argue with her. I watch her pull on a black neopoly vest. The tight top molds her slender curves. With her dreads spilling over the shiny black fabric like seaweed, she looks like an exotic sea creature: smooth, sleek and extremely sexy. The little monster stirs briefly in appreciation, but he’s too chapped for anything but a faint roar.

  Kez takes my hand to lead me to breakfast. I stop her before we reach the bedroom door. Trace her soft pink mouth with a fingertip before I kiss her. Grimace a little at her morning breath.

  She notices it, too. “Why don’t you ever have bad breath?”

  “Implants in my teeth.” Cheaper for the military to bond the teeth of new recruits than ship out a dentist with every company. My teeth don’t decay, and the fact that they’re reinforced is why I still have all of them. “Last night—”

  “Was the most amazing night of my life,” she says earnestly.

  I kiss her again despite her tiger breath. “Yeah. We didn’t talk ‘bout the run.”

  She grins. “Because we were busy doing other things.”

  Lippy kitten. I stroke her mouth with my thumb. “What I’m tryin’ to tell you is, whether or not you need my ship, I’m comin’ with you.” I’m not letting her out of my sight again. Not until Tyng’s dead.

  She smiles against my thumb. “I was going to ask you to.”

  “Now you don’t need to. But you do gotta tell me the play.”

  “Oh, right. I usually go over the day’s runs with Gig after breakfast. Is that okay?”

  I nod. I can wait. I want to hear her plans before I formulate my own. Hers will likely end with the run. Mine won’t.

  Kez leads me into the kitchen, where Gig and Chiara have already started breakfast. Gig looks at Kez anxiously as we approach. She smiles at him. His eyes flick to me, seeking reassurance. Following Kez’s lead, I nod at him as I pass.

  There’s no sign of Ape, or the beautiful girl, as we make breakfast. Kez, Gig and Chiara whip up scrambled pagia eggs, sausages, and roasted tomallos in less than ten minutes. They move around each other in the U-shaped kitchen with almost military efficiency. Gig and Chiara banter lightly as they cook; Kez doesn’t say much and I can tell she’s thinking. Turning over what Tyng has said. Maybe letting fear chew at her. Other than touching Kez a few times to reassure her, I stay out of the way, squeezing the juice of the local dark pink citrus fruit into a jug. Chiara takes the jug from me when it’s full. She winks and says, “Strong hands,” before handing me a towel so I can wipe off the pulp.

  I debate for a second. I could flex a couple of muscles, show her how str
ong I am, but Kez seems to have serious jealousy issues. I could growl at her, payback for her boyfriend’s many sins. Or I could give her dead face, which most women find scarier than my growl. In the end, undecided, I shrug. Turning away from her slightly, I see Kez watching us. When our eyes meet, she smiles at me, an open, unrestrained smile.

  That was the right play.

  While Kez, Gig and Chiara finish loading the food onto warmers, I contemplate this facet of my kitten. I like it. I don’t remember Mouse or Selly being jealous. Maybe they didn’t care enough to worry if I strayed. I wasn’t with Marin long enough to find out if she was the jealous type. Or the girl on the Galaxaura, whose name I never knew. But I also recognize that jealousy’s unhealthy. Whether it stems from Kez’s abandonment issues or something else, she doesn’t like me even interacting with other women and that could become problematic. Particularly if I’m going to try to fit in and play nice with her little crew. What’s more, she’s got no reason to be insecure. I’ve been so faithful to the women in my life, I haven’t even cheated on their damn ghosts. I file it away for now, but sooner or later, this is another bridge Kez and I are gonna have to cross.

  Duncan arrives for breakfast and helps carry the food to the big table in the garden. Chiara loads a plate and disappears for a few minutes, presumably taking breakfast to Ape, wherever he’s hiding. Pussy. I see movement through the kitchen while we’re eating and as I shovel down the last few bites, the beautiful girl joins us. She’s freshly showered and wrapped in several layers of towels and robes. She must still be cold. Or safeguarding against further mess. She doesn’t say much, but she eats, which is a good sign, if Kez’s smile is any indication. I don’t add to the conversation, but put my arm around Kez after I finish eating and drop a few crusts of bread to the swarm of rabbits milling around our feet.

  Once all the food disappears, everyone begins moving. It’s chaotic, but it’s organized chaos. Even the beautiful girl helps, carrying dirty dishes to the kitchen, although her steps are slow and shuffling. Kez and Gig glance at each other as the others clear the table. Without speaking, they rise and move off in a different direction. Kez catches my hand and draws me after her.