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“You know I can keep you warm,” Alek whispered, then sucked Bell’s earlobe between his teeth.

“Yes. Okay,” Bell gritted. His nimble fingers grappled at the D-rings of Alek’s belt, struggling to free his cock. “Need.”

Alek bit the side of Bell’s jaw and said gruffly, “Then turn around and wrap your arms around the tree.”

Bell should’ve known there was no fighting it. Alek stayed pressed close as Bell maneuvered until he was facing the other direction, then wrapped his slender arms around the wide trunk, just as he’d been told. Fuck, how in the hell did I get so lucky? When Alek worked Bell’s belt open and exposed his soft, pale ass to the elements, Bell shivered for him. Alek released the warmth he and Wrath could make together, and when he saw his mate tenderly lay his cheek against the rough bark, ready to be taken, Alek’s vision blurred he became so aroused. The alpha in him hoped Bell’s cries of pleasures could be heard for miles.

He’d had that goddamn fishing pole in his hand forever now, or so it seemed, and he hadn’t felt a single tug. At least that was how Alek described the sensation he was supposedly waiting for, which would indicate he had a bite… a fish. Bell turned his head to gaze at the gorgeous mountain scenery, not wanting Alek to see him roll his eyes for the millionth time. And people had the nerve to call this a ‘sport’. He watched Alek reel his line in, stare at the fake bait on his hook then cast it right back out, again. He’d done this a million times.

“Alek?” Bell called as he repeated what he’d just seen, minus inspecting at the bait because he had no idea what he was looking for anyway.

“Hmmm.” Alek hummed quietly, his blue eyes focused on the lake as if he could see beneath the glistening water’s surface.

“What if you don’t catch a fish… then what?” Bell rested his pole against the side of the slim boat and propped his head in his hands.

“Oh, I’ll catch one. I always do.” Alek kept the determined frown on his handsome face. “I certainly hope I do because I don’t want steak tonight.”

Hope! That could be another two hours. Bell sighed. Well at least it wasn’t a terrible view. He went back to staring at Alek since he was the most beautiful thing out there. He’d yet to cut his hair, but the deep waves were still able to be finger-combed and held in place. Bell liked Alek’s salt-and-pepper beard and encouraged him not to cut it so low. He remembered how amazing it felt when the rough texture burned his thighs. He quickly steered away from those thoughts, not wanting Alek to get a whiff of his desire again, setting off a snowball effect.

If only he’d thought to bring one of his paperbacks, then that would’ve made the time go by a lot faster. Oh well. He was staring at a clump of snow that fell from a tree’s overhanging branch and into the lake when Alek leapt to his feet, rocking the tiny boat hard enough to make Bell yelped embarrassingly. He glared up at him as if he was insane. “Aleksei, if I fall in this cold river, I’m taking you with me.”

“Babe, you have a bite!” Alek yelled.

Bell turned around and saw the tip of his pole was bent all the way over, about to fall overboard.

“Grab it!” Alek shouted.

“Okay, okay, my word. Stop yelling.” Bell swiped the pole just before it went in. Holding it in one hand, he leveled a bewildered look at Alek. “Now what.”

“Now reel in my dinner!” Alek stepped into the middle section of the boat and yanked Bell’s back into his chest.

Bell almost dropped the pole again as he flailed to stay upright on the measly scrap of metal that stood beneath him and the icy water.

“Bell for shit’s sake, we’re not gonna fall in, will you please hold the pole and turn the reel handle.” Alek laughed, with a tight grip on his waist.

Whatever fish he had, it was pretty strong. Bell flipped the pole to get a decent grip.

“No this way.” Alek turned it back over and put one of Bell’s hands at the bottom of the rubber grip, and he pressed the other to the handle. “Now turn it.”

Bell started to slowly rotate the lever.

Bell heard Alek slap his own forehead, “No, clockwise, Belleron.”

“Oh.” Bell shrugged. “You didn’t tell me what to do when I got a bite.”

“I thought you knew.” Alek laughed.

“Sure, Beloved. Because I have tuna tartare every night, except for fish pie on Fridays.”

“I didn’t know you were a comedian.” Alek nipped at the side of Bell’s jaw as he trembled in the freezing temperature. His cherished seemed to be immune to the cold. His long john undershirt and Carhartt outdoor jacket appearing to be all he needed. “Can you reel a little faster, please?”

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