Bard Welstaad is a model Uni-Fleet officer. He’s not sure what his unit is to accomplish, marching up an icy peninsula in the frozen hell of Gelada, but without his NCO, Gordon Farrell, he knows he could not keep the unit together fighting off Snow Wasps and the savage deadly cold. Not until tragedy strikes does he admit the big sergeant means much more to him than simply being his right hand man.<br><br>Gordon Farrell idolizes his captain, who represents everything he reveres. The threat of imminent death finally forces him to admit the strength of his feelings as he fights to save Bard’s life. With death stalking at their heels, they can only hope to live long enough to share more than a single incredible night. Fate seems to conspire against them at every turn. Still they cling to the frail hope that somehow their love will find a way.

Fire on Ice

This once he had a reason although not one he would ever have chosen to share a rare interlude of closeness. This situation provided a unique opportunity. John was not comfortable with the task and had his eyes screwed tightly shut. Gordon saw the younger man had kept on his inner layer, the thin suit liner they all wore. That might diminish the warming effect slightly, although not likely enough to jeopardize Bard’s chances.


He turned to face Bard, wrapped both arms around him and turned him to lay spoon fashion as closely melded as they could. Bard’s skin felt like ice, silken, polished ice. Gordon ran his hands up and down Bard’s torso, from shoulders to low on his belly, trying to stir some circulation and bring warming blood closer to the surface. His cock nestled between Bard’s frosty buttocks.::I’d plug in the heater if I could, if it would help. I’d slit my wrists and pour my blood into you. Come on, man, you’ve got to pull through::


Chapter 3