by Linda J. Dunn
(6/28/00)

Lacy Schreiver moved closer to the fireplace, inhaling the sweet scent of burning wood, the last remains of the apple tree from the back yard. Shutters banged against the house and wind whistled through the cracks around the windows that Bob could never find time to repair. Snow, thick and sticky, whipped past the window in a white curtain, cutting off the view of everything more than a few feet away. She couldn't even see the trunk of the maple tree that Bob almost cut down last fall.

It was too close to the house, he said. A nuisance.

Bob stood with his rough, grease-stained arms wrapped around her waist. "It's going to be another bumper crop of accidents," he said. "I hope it goes on like this until May."

Lacy nodded. She hoped so too, but for different reasons. Bob was an auto fix-it man. Self-taught, he wasn't qualified to work at any of the franchised places in town, but that hadn't stopped him from opening his own shop. The summer months were busy repairing cars that overheated, but winter was slow unless accidents brought in body work.

This was perfect weather for Bob's business. For Lacy, the excitement lay elsewhere. Bob would never know -- could never possibly suspect -- that the storms that brought prosperity last winter were the work of her lover. Keeping Bob busy with car repairs was the best way to ensure that she and her demon had the time they wanted -- until Spring arrived to steal her lover away again and leave her with Bob.

"Maybe you should be getting your wrecker ready," Lacy said. "With weather like this--"

Bob stepped back and stared at her. "You got something going on I ought to know about?"

She sighed deeply and looked out the window again. "In weather like this? He'd have to be a snowplow driver and there's only one of those that ever comes near here. You know what I think of your brother."

Bob laughed. "Just so you remember who you married."

She bit back a gasp of pain as his grip tightened on her. His breath stank of too many beers. When he kissed her she braced herself, knowing she couldn't plead a headache again. Not now. Bob lifted her with the scant grace he used in his trade. He cracked her head against the bedroom's low doorway in his haste to get her to the bed.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Keep forgetting."

"It's okay."

It wasn't. But she had to appease him. The sooner he was finished and out in that wrecker, the sooner she could meet her lover.

Bob dropped her on top of the covers. He pulled his pants down just far enough to get the job done then yanked her panties down to her knees.

He plunged his fingers inside her, then tried to jam his penis into her too-tight and too-dry opening.

He glowered. "Damn frigid wife. Either you've got someone out there, saving it for him, or you're the coldest bitch I've ever met. Judy would have been squirming all over the bed by now. Wet, too. I never had any problems when I was married to her. What's wrong with you?

Lacy closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I just can't get worked up that fast. I wish--"

"I wish I hadn't left Judy for you!"

Lacy bit her tongue. I wish you hadn't either.

So much for saving it for marriage. Sinning would have saved her a lot of heartache later. If it hadn't been for her lover, she would never have known sex could actually feel good.

Bob forced his way in, pumping against dry flesh until biology took over and produced a little lubrication. He thrust harder, muttering, "Respond, damn you." Lacy moaned softly. She didn't have to fake that. Fortunately, Bob would interpret it as pleasure, rather than pain and frustration.

"Unbutton your blouse."

Lacy fumbled with the buttons. She closed her eyes and tried to think of her lover, but it was too hot. Bob was too sweaty.

Snow demons were cold. Ice cold. She closed her eyes again and remembered.

She'd met him on a day like this. She'd run outside after a particularly bad scene with Bob.

Bob tugged her bra, managing to get one tiny breast free. "Fried eggs," he said before biting into her flesh. Lacy squealed, cringing with pain.

"Good, huh?" Bob asked. He pushed the bra aside and bit her other nipple. Lacy jumped. Bob moaned and thrust harder. He bit again.

"Please." She bit back tears, hating the pleading in her voice.

"Want more, huh?" He bit again and Lacy caught back a tight scream. Just get it over with, she thought. Don't let him suspect how you really feel.

She moaned. "Take me now. Hard and fast. Please." Bob grinned. He didn't need to be asked twice.

She gritted her teeth and moaned softly, faking an orgasm for him again. Bob pushed harder and faster then fell against her, gasping. His penis slipped out, spewing stickiness against her thighs. He rolled off the bed.

"That'll keep you happy for a while." He turned around to face her and zipped up his pants. "I should go out to the shop and turn on the radio. Maybe I'll meet your snowplow lover while I'm out in the wrecker." He grinned but there wasn't any humor in his eyes.

Lacy slipped out the back door wearing nothing but her coat and boots. The cold, biting wind whipped around her, sending tingling sensations through her body. She loved the cold. Had always loved it. There was something sexually exciting about the way her fingers and toes turned numb then tingled with achy-sharp needles. Lacy never felt more alive than when she was cold.

He wasn't there when she arrived at their special spot so she laid down to wait. Her fingers felt numb, tingling with the pleasure and pain that accompanied pure cold. Her fingernails were blue. Cold was seeping through her body when she saw the whirl of snow with two bright lights for eyes.

She held out her arms Her coat fell open. Cold nipped her breasts, exciting her in a way that Bob never had. Her lover's chilly touch closed on her breast, making her forget all about Bob and his tortures.

Cold. Pure cold as his breath blew across her body. She squealed with pleasure as his snowy beard descended on her face. She lost consciousness for a moment as his icy breath sucked the warmth out of her body.

Lacy spread her legs, trembling. "Take me. Don't make me wait this time." He lifted her, his ice-cold breath almost overpowering her again. She trembled as snow caked against his form. He gained substance. Icicles grew into fingers. His frosty beard flowed in the wind. Lacy could hardly breathe, waiting in anticipation until his robe faded to reveal the form beneath.

She ran her fingers against his body, the chill drawing what little warmth remained. Moistness ran down her leg as her lover teased, moving a little away from her, then closer. His fingers stoked her. Penetration, when it finally came, filled her with a screaming cold that literally lifted her from the snowbank.

She floated, her fingers grasping for her lover. His buttocks were frost. His beard, wind. Only the coldness inside locked her in place. No need to fake this orgasm. Or the next. Or the next. She kicked and squealed. Each climax carried them higher into the sky.

His orgasm, when it came, plummeted them almost to the ground. His thrusts blew them across the hill and into a tree. She gripped the branches as he thrust again and again. Snow fell from above, blanketing her with a thick layer that felt warm compared to the cold around her. He thrust one last time. The hills echoed with his scream. They landed, locked together, in snow beneath the tree. She fought to keep him from leaving.

"Take me with you!"

His eyes glowed.

"I like the cold. Don't leave me with Bob. He hurts me."

The snow whipped around her and he was gone.

There were enough accidents that night to keep Bob busy for a long time. Lacy relaxed, delighting in her freedom. Her days and nights were filled with trysts with her lover and for a while she almost forgot that it would end.

Spring arrived too soon, in mid-February. Lacy knew the cold would return, but for the moment everything beckoned Spring.

Her lover would leave soon, abandoning her for another dreary summer. She became depressed and forgot how careful she had to be with Bob.

"What's his name?" he asked.

"What?"

Bob slapped her. The stinging pain brought her to her senses and frightened her. Bob usually didn't hit her right after sex.

"You've been worse than usual, all winter. I've seen the way you look when I come home. Your face glows, and it ain't for me." He slammed her into the wall next to their bed. His hands grabbed her hair, pinning her to the wall.

"Who? It ain't my damn brother. I know you better than that. I've asked around in town. Ain't nobody moved out this way. Somebody. Snow mobiler, maybe. I know it, Lacy. Damn you to hell!" He slapped her again. Harder.

"No. I --"

"Don't lie to me!"

He grabbed a lighter from the nightstand. Lacy stared as he flipped it on.

"You tell."

"No!" Lacy shook her head. Bob pinned her. The lighter flickered against her hair. Her hair singed. She could smell it.

Lacy screamed but Bob held her tight.

She fought with a strength she didn't know she had and somehow, miraculously, broke free. She ran out into the night and rolled into the nearest snowbank. She was naked.

"Come back here, bitch!" Bob called from the door.

Lacy fled into the night.

Chill wind woke her in the morning. Her flesh was blue and she feared her toes were frost-bitten. He was there. He gently stroked the burn marks.

"It was Bob. I tried to tell you before. Please take me with you. I can't take it anymore."

He whirled away. She struggled to stand, screaming for him to return.

Time passed. She decided to hobble the half mile to her nearest neighbor's house.

They were waiting for her there. Her parents. The sheriff. A minister who had the decency to turn his head at her nakedness.

Her mom grabbed an afghan. "Don't just stand there," she shouted. "Call an ambulance. Can't you see she's frozen all the way through?"

The sheriff took her back to the house. Bob was there, frozen in ice, lying in bed with his pants still unzipped.

The house was warm. Very warm. The mass of ice showed no signs of melting.

The sheriff looked at Lacy, wanting an answer. Lacy just stood there shivering. Why hadn't her lover taken her with him?

The medics arrived. She spent the next few days drifting into and out of consciousness. When she recovered, Spring had settled in and her lover was gone.

The hearing was mercifully short. The judge accepted her half-truths.

"Bob beat me and I ran," she said. "I don't know what happened after that."

If it had been a fire she would have been on trial for her life. But ice?

She stood at the bus station. The insurance barely covered Bob's burial. She had just enough money for a one-way ticket. They said it was always cold in North Dakota. She hoped they were right.