Courting Kel by Dee Brice

she threw the ball. Only his fast reflexes kept it from slapping his
own balls.
    “Make a deal with you, Flame. You don’t throw balls below my
waist and I won’t throw above yours.”
    “Deal.”
    Laughing, she scampered away to take shelter behind a snowy
mound.
    “You’re fast. But I’m faster.” Running, gathering snow as he
went, firing snowballs in quick succession, he managed to hit her five or six
times. Although she had to slog to get away from him, her aim was as accurate
as his own. Her missiles—smaller than his—stung. Only the altitude let him
capture her. The thinner air slowed her, making her gasp for breath. Which
worked to his advantage when his tackle felled her. Afraid she’d smother in the
snowbank where she had fallen, he rolled her to her back. And had his own face
washed by two fistfuls of snow.
    Her eyes swirled with slender threads of black. Her cheeks
and nose were chilled red by snow and cold air. Pink lips curving in a
triumphant smile, she smeared his face. “If getting the better of you is play,
it amuses me.”
    “We call it fun. And, no, we don’t summon it, as you thought
we called choke. Although we can seek it out, as we have today.”
    “Tak, Aren.” Shoving him off, she leapt to her feet,
graceful as a tiger finishing its daily bath.
    “Have these balls a name?” she asked, scooping up more snow.
    “An obvious one. Snowball.”
    “Ahh. May I assume you have other balls with different
names?”
    “Yes. Come here, Kel.”
    “Why?”
    “We need to find shelter before the storm descends. And we
need to hurry.”
    Glancing skyward, she seemed to assess the gathering clouds.
Without a word, she retrieved her pack and set off down the mountain.
    “If hurrying is the price for fun, fun comes at a high
price,” she called over her shoulder.
    “Everything worth having comes with costs,” he said, more to
himself than Kel.
     
    They almost made it to the tree line before the flurries
began. Surprising him, Kel halted and tipped up her face. When he got near
enough, he saw she was catching snowflakes on her tongue and laughing softly.
Her blanket had slipped off her head as if to join in her childlike delight.
Flakes caught in her fiery tresses and lingered for a moment before melting.
Drops of water sparkled like dew on the petals of his seros.
    “Oh look, it’s Peg!” Kel cried, pointing to the beast
circling above them. “Will you call him down, Aren? Please.”
    “Only if you bathe with me. Even with our blankets to
protect us, our clothes will stick.”
    One way or another he intended to have Kel naked in his
arms.
    With another of her assessing looks, she nodded. Apparently,
bathing with him was a lesser danger than freezing. Or, he thought with a wry
smile, she found warm water more appealing than warm bodies. He’d changed her
mind about that.
    Whistling, he summoned Peg.
    * * * * *
    By the time Peg deposited them at his lodge, Aren’s shaft
was hard as stone and aching for the warmth of Kel’s cunt. With the wind so
uncertain, Peg had had a difficult time and the ride had been bumpy. He’d had
Kel’s ass shifting against his crotch the entire flight. Not that he’d minded
overmuch. Still, it would be more pleasant were he certain of a hot welcome
between Kel’s thighs.
    Where they landed near his lodge the snow had turned to
rain, so incessant a downpour even their clothing was soaked. Kel insisted they
tend to Peg’s comfort before their own. So they reached the lodge, shivering in
their now storm-drenched clothing, hungry and exhausted.
    Kel shed her pack then began to return the foodstuffs to
their proper places. Catching her hand, Aren dragged her to the hot spring and
tossed her in. She came up sputtering and cursing and splashing water at him as
he joined her.
    “So you do know how to play,” he said, seizing her hands and
wrestling her to spoon against his chest. She fought, but when she saw the
lighted candles she subsided.
    “How beautiful.