The Coldest Knee Ice Pack Novels & Stories

The pads traced the hollow at its center, then slipped up over my shoulder and pressed against my nape. Freezing cold. His fingers were the polar opposite of his body heat, icy as if just pulled from a bucket of ice water. When they touched my burning, inflamed gland, the shock of hot and cold sent a spike of searing pain through my skin. Like being burned by ice. Like being burned by fire. I couldn't tell the difference anymore. My knees buckled instantly. A switch had been flipped on my nape, and every ounce of strength drained out of my knee joints. I slid downward.

“Don’t you dare.” Clothes came off in a frantic rush. Shirts tossed into the front seat, jeans shoved down just enough. Dante reached into the center console and pulled out a small ice pack from the emergency kit he kept for after games—cold, solid. He cracked it open, pressing the chilled surface to my chest. I gasped at the shock. He dragged it slowly over my nipples until they tightened painfully, melt from condensation trickling down my ribs. His hot mouth followed, tongue chasing every icy trail, sucking marks into my skin.

Ethan clenched his jaw as he walked around me and pulled open the freezer and returned with an ice pack. He grabbed my hand and placed the ice pack onto my bruised wrist. A shiver ran down my spine as the cold of the ice pack sipped into my bones and we remained silent.

she softly spoke, with a bit of concern on her tone. “Insect bite? Frostbite?” Zane suggested to which Keira firmly shook her head. “I was wearing two scarves last night and I have my heater on. It also doesn’t hurt at all.” Keira softly murmured. Zane’s brows quirked. Not wanting to frighten his best friend any further, he just thought of something that would make sense to the lady who isn’t remembering anything about the strange creature. “Probably just a frostbite. Who knows? As long as it doesn’t hurt, I guess.” Zane commented.

His hand that consequently looked really bad. “You know you can’t do the legal fights or teach if your hands messed up.” She told him. “I needed it.” He said simply. She sighed and shook her head. He looked down at the ice pack she had and asked her where that had come from. She’d ordered a few of them after the wreck. She needed the ice so much she wanted something to put it in besides just a ziplock or something. “It’s mine, for my knee and shoulder.” She answered. He frowned up at her then.

Finally he gave a curt nod, like even that cost him. I moved to the side of the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress. The new ice pack from the medical station was already prepped in a soft wrap. I lifted the old one—warm now, useless—and replaced it, fingers brushing the bare skin above his knee for the briefest second. Heat radiated off him, muscle tight and trembling under the lightest touch. He tensed harder, but didn’t pull away. “Swelling’s up a bit,” I murmured, adjusting the elevation pillow slightly. “Not terrible, but we need to stay ahead of it. Any numbness? Tingling down the calf?”

Ice cubes clinked against my teeth, numbing my tongue instantly. “Suck,” he growled. The command hit like a whip. My lips closed, and I had no choice but to let the cold burn its way into me. The shock tore a whimper from my throat. I tried to breathe through my nose, chest heaving, eyes wide on his. “Do you know,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles down my stomach, “that one cube of ice against the skin can stop a panic attack? Cold overrides fear. It makes your body remember survival.”

He made it to her couch and collapsed onto it with another pained sound that made her feel like the worst person alive. She grabbed an ice pack from the freezer—one of the soft gel ones she kept for headaches and the occasional drunk cooking incident—wrapped it in a kitchen towel, and brought it over. “Here.” He took it. Stared at it for a second. Then looked up at her with a mix of pain and disbelief. “You want me to ice my balls.” “Unless you have a better idea.” He didn’t. He applied the ice pack with a wince that looked like it hurt almost as much as the kick had.

I ask, and a look of worry instantly crosses her face. “Are you sure its just the headache?” “Yes Mom, I just want to sleep and I have a feeling they would really help with that,” I say, and she seems satisfied with my answer. “Alright,” she says, proceeding to get me the painkillers and a glass of water. “Snow?” I call out to her. I’m met with nothing but silence. When rejection occurs, it hurts the wolf so bad that it may die. I hope that is not the case here. I love my wolf. I needed her to get through this. We needed each other.

She had woken up a little later in the day, no doubt feeling a little better than she had been and taken a warm shower. Of course, Anelia swore not to take anymore cold showers, which she had been taking in the early mornings when she was trying to avoid Dex. Anelia easily caught a cold and she should have known that taking cold showers in the morning to help rejuvenate her from lack of sleep was not a very good idea.