There Came A Killing Frost

Time-traveler. Cowboy. Assassin. Kit Frost has been all three, and more, but he's never stooped to slave running, and he doesn't intend to start now. So he announces when he arrives in a brothel to collect his cargo, only to be handed the drugged body of beautiful Lourdes Carterro. But Lourdes isn't a slave. She's a trained sexual submissive in thrall to a wealthy and powerful man. Her escape attempt may have failed, but she isn't so submissive that she's ready to give up. She'll use her skills to lull Kit, to make him think she's weak and easily controlled, and then she'll find her way to freedom. Before long, Kit's worn leather belt has strapped Lourdes to the bed, and she's begging for his rough touch. But Kit finds new ways to torture her with pleasure, and soon she wonders ... can she run away if running away means leaving Kit behind?

To My Readers: Despite its futuristic setting and hot scenes of “capture and bondage,” There Came A Killing Frost is really just a story about a man who finds himself lost in a time not his own and the woman who comes to trust and love him despite herself. I hope you enjoy reading about Kit and Lourdes as much as I enjoyed creating them. Selah March.


THERE CAME A KILLING FROST
by Selah March

Copyright © SELAH MARCH, 2008
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

EXCERPT FROM THERE CAME A KILLING FROST

She glanced at him. A sheen of sweat made his face glow in the light from the bedside lamp. She watched his eyes track a line from her feet to where her hands were bound. Something in the way his jaw tightened...sí, she recognized that look. He liked what he saw. Liked seeing her helpless. It did something for him.
He shifted in the chair and cleared his throat. "You comfortable? Anything you...need?"
Her gaze wandered over the room 'til the sight of a newly filled ice bucket on the credenza caught her interest. "May I have a piece of ice, por favor?"
His frown deepened. "You think this is a game?"
"Sí. The kind we both win." She let her voice drop into a husky rasp. "Question is, have you the cojones to play?"
It was a calculated risk. He might laugh at her brazen attempt at seduction. She watched as he rose from the chair and crossed the room. She inhaled the saturated air, sweat trickling between her breasts. The silk blouse clung to her back.
And then he was standing over her, the ice bucket in his hand. "Open your mouth." The gruff texture of his voice rubbed at every nerve she had.
She closed her eyes and complied. An instant later, she felt him deposit a single sliver of ice on the end of her tongue. She opened her eyes in time to catch the way he stared at her mouth before lifting his eyes to hers.
"Anything else?" His body seemed to vibrate with tension.
"My shoes. If you could--"
"Don't think so." He set the ice bucket on the edge of the mattress and reached out touch her ankle. "I like the shoes. Like you in 'em."
His hand moved up her leg to her knee, pushing the fabric of her skirt along before it. The calloused palm felt like hot iron against her skin. She let her thighs fall apart under the satin. "A cowboy with a shoe fetish? That's--"
"Hush." He lifted the hem of her skirt and rolled it up on itself. The air, which had felt so thick and humid just a moment before, rushed in cool breeze against the flesh he exposed. She watched his face change as he saw she wore nothing beneath the skirt.
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