Cold Husband Novels & Stories

We plan to gather information on the human population as we head closer to Washington. Mate, my beast whines when I try to fall asleep the first night without Marinah. I'm in an old barn with the men sleeping on mounds of hay trying to keep warm. The days are mild and nights cold. After living in Cuba with the wonderful year-round temperatures, cold is not in my vocabulary or at least it wasn't. From the look at the shivering Warriors, they agree with me.

"He was born in the Harsh Winter. In the North, they say that means something." I shuffled closer. "Means what?" "Now, Yer Highness, the North is always cold..." I nodded to let her know I was following. "But the Harsh Winter is the coldest the Northern realm has ever seen. It is said that the wolves born in the Harsh Winter are different." She glanced around. "Stronger. Harder to kill. Like the cold gets into them when they are small and, ye know, becomes one with them." I thought about the pool last night. The way he'd been so comfortable in the cold, it barely seemed to touch him.

He simply decided to. The sound of oil s‌izzling in a pan f‌illed the space. The scent of seas‍one‍d meat dri⁠fted to⁠ward the livi‍n⁠g room. He had showered ear⁠lier, bu‍t afterward he’d ch‍osen to remain in not‌hing but hi‌s‌ boxers. The cold that crept⁠ thro‌ugh⁠ my a‌partment in winter didn’t seem to touch him. Frost clung to the windows, and even with th‌e heater working overtim⁠e, the‌ chill lingered but he stood unaffected.‍ As if‍ temperature simply‌ didn’t apply to‌ him.

Hugh’s POV I clenched my fist as I watched them from afar. It’s freezing, It’s the start of winter, it’s just another season that’ll pass by but for some reason this season seems to be the coldest one in my life. So cold that even an animal wouldn’t even manage to find it’s way home. It's also been a few years since I last saw him. I made myself busy from all that’s in life just to make a life, if that life is called living at all.

But that fire wasn’t enough to stop my quiver. “You are still freezing,” Hogan said. “Do you want me to hug you? My body is warm.” I wanted to. But I don’t want to stay dependable to Hogan, not when I promised that I would be strong. “You might die,” Hogan said. “We have extreme heat and cold weather in this area. If you don’t keep yourself warm, you might really die, Elizabeth.” “No. I’m fine.” “BUT I AM NOT FINE!” Hogan shouted. I froze.

She blushed furiously as she felt a heat she hadn’t experienced in years rising in her chest. Her husband was her husband in name only. Two years of marriage, and he had never touched her—not once. No caress, no lingering kiss, no whispers of desire. The cold emptiness of their bedroom had become a daily torment. She had tried to ignore it, convince herself that marriage wasn’t just about sex, but today, the yearning clawed at her, its claws sharp and unrelenting. Her gaze returned to the gardener who still hadn't noticed her presence. His strong shoulders, the curve of his biceps, the way his shirt clung to his torso as he bent to lift the heavy bags—it was all too much.

My breath caught in my throat. Standing right in front of me was Hudson Monette. He was the famous, star hockey player of Team America, and a literal household name. Seeing him up close, he carried an undeniable aura of power, though a shadow of grief always seemed to linger around his sharp features. Everyone knew his story, he was the illegitimate son of Hillary Monette, the legendary hockey pro who had tragically died in a horrific car accident just four years ago.

It was a hand, hot and uninvited. "Pervert!" I almost shouted. Every woman who commutes has faced something like this, and I was no exception. My skirt was short, perhaps too short. Bending over revealed my pink thong-covered privates, making me a target for those subway perverts. When I turned just slightly, ready to lash out, my breath caught. Reflected in the train window, the man behind me wasn’t a stranger at all. It was my father-in-law, Victor Collins, who had just arrived in Silverhaven.

He certainly has great tastes if his home is a reflection. There is still the enigma of what he wants with me. I don't trust his motives and curiosity is the only thing keeping me here. That and my desire to sleep on a bed instead of a bench. It's almost fall in Connecticut and with it will come the cold. I may not feel fear like the average person, but I certainly don't feel like being uncomfortable if I don't have to. Cold is one thing I hated. I wasn't leaving, not until I get the feeling I'm looking for. All of my adrenaline highs, they have all brought me closer to what I want to feel, and yet they all seem to fall short. I haven't quite pieced together what is missing.

Lucas was puzzled he couldn't believe he had slept with a total stranger, with his personality and all he found it strang and funny all together. Lucas has a cold personality, he is especially cold mainly to the female gender , thinking back in time, his father Mr Isaac lost his precious wife during childbirth while Lucas lost his mother at a very young age of five . Because of the experience he had to go through and also watching how his father was devastated at that period of time , that was when he said to himself that he wasn't going to have anything to do with the female gender because of fear losing something dear to him.