Polar Bared (17 page)

There was no hesitation this time when he tugged her zipper. Vicky aided him in peeling the flannel garment just like her fumbling hands helped him strip out of his shirt and pants. Bare, he could finally do what he’d dreamt of since that first night when he’d held back. He could rub against her naked flesh. Rub and stroke and know he could enjoy it. He could touch it. He could…holy hell, he could finally taste her!

Once the idea hit his feverish mind, he couldn’t shake it loose. Nor did he want to. It became imperative he discover the flavor of her cream. His lips left hers, despite her plaintive cry, a cry that turned into a moan as he dragged his lips down the column of her neck to the valley between her breasts.

Her breasts!

How could he have forgotten his fantasy about those? Delay his journey for some berries or continue?

Such a hard decision, decided for him by the musky aroma of her arousal. Taste. Now. He’d come back for his budding dessert later.

Downwards his mouth travelled, over the rounded swell of her belly, pausing to circle his tongue around her navel, which had her giggling his name.

“Gene!” She wiggled as he teased her one more time round the sensitive spot. He marked it for play later.

He continued his erotic trek, nuzzling the soft down covering her mound, the scent of her so strong now, so tempting. Her thighs parted for him with only the barest pressure from his hands, and he nestled between them, eyes closed in rapturous delight at the first lick.

Holy fuck, and he’d thought heaven was denied to him because of his past actions. Apparently not because he found it between her legs, he found it in her bliss-filled cries, discovered nirvana in the way her sex clenched around his fingers as his tongue stroked at her swollen nub.

Her hips bucked and lifted from the mattress, her pleasure turning her wanton and wild. So unlike his prim Pima, and oh so much more sexy for it.

Who knew his glasses-wearing, shy Latina hid a sex kitten inside? A kitten that tugged at his scalp and squeezed his head tight between the vise of her thighs.

The evidence of her enjoyment drove him wild. He lapped faster, his tongue stroking and his lips tugging while his fingers dipped in and out. The moment when she came? When she screamed his name?
MINE!
And her whole sex clenched then rippled around his fingers?

Almost as great as when he finally couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his cock into her still undulating channel.

The moist flesh of her sex clamped down around his cock, and he threw back his head and hissed. “Oh, Vicky. My sexy, sexy Vicky.”

She didn’t reply, but she welcomed his thrusts, her arms once again twining around his neck to pull him down for a scorching kiss as he pumped into her, the milking of her pussy around his cock making him shudder as he struggled to hold on.

He wanted, needed her to come with him, so he held off on his own climax, instead stroking her warm, tight sheath with long strokes. Deep thrusts.

She clung to him, panting and matching his rhythm.

He lost the latch of her mouth but only because he had another destination in mind. The hard berries topping her breasts had poked his chest, reminding him of his earlier curiosity.

Dessert time.

It took a bit of arching and bending, but he managed to capture a tip with his mouth. He tugged the erect nipple, sucked it, and she let out a mangled moan. Her pussy spasmed around his cock. Damn did that feel good. So he did it again. And again. He swapped breasts, spreading around the sensual torture.

The tension in her body coiled. Her channel tightened. His thrusts sped up, and this time when she came, he came with her. He shot his seed deep inside. Marking her. Claiming her.

He roared his possession. He shouted it aloud, heedless of whom he woke. In that moment, he wanted the world to know she was his.
Mine.

And beware any who tried to come between them.

However, what was he to do when the biggest barrier keeping them apart was him?

Having already slept a few hours before Gene returned to make wonderful love to her, the last thing Vicky wanted to do after the most glorious orgasm ever—and she meant ever—was fall asleep.

So when Gene rolled on to his back and dragged her with him, draping her over his chest like a fleshy blanket, she took the moment to talk.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” she admitted, the intimate darkness giving her the courage to voice the thing that plagued her most when he’d left the room.

“To be honest, I thought about going.”

Not exactly the most encouraging revelation. “What made you change your mind?” she asked.

For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer, and the silence stretched and stretched. He uttered a heavy sigh. “In the end, I couldn’t just leave you. Not with everything going on. I had to make sure you were safe.”

“And that’s the only reason you stayed?” Yes, she fished for something a little cozier than his sense of duty. The disappointment when it wasn’t forthcoming might have hit her harder if he hadn’t been lightly stroking her back as he replied.

“Yes. No. I don’t fucking know why. Must you ask? Can’t we just leave it at I’m here?”

“For now,” she finished. “But what about once we get to this place Kodiak Point and we solve the mystery? What then? You’ll leave?”
Leave me
was what she wanted to say.

A part of her hoped for a vehement denial. A declaration that he would never leave her. Ever. But this was Gene.

“There are things you don’t understand.”

Not again! She was getting mightily tired of this oft-repeated refrain. “Then help me to understand. Tell me or explain.” She leaned up until she could stare him straight in the eye, without fidgeting, fainting, or a single tremor. Clear-gazed and with determination. Possibly a first for her. As was the bravery she mustered to declare, “I know you feel something for me. I think I deserve a better explanation than
because
or
it’s for your own safety
,” she said mimicking a deep, grave voice. “Danger is around me everywhere, Gene. I could get killed crossing the street. Or from an aneurism. Heck, given how often I seem to run into them, even the wildlife or a polar bear could take my life with a swipe of its paws.”

“Not if I’m around,” he growled.

“But that’s just it, according to you, you won’t be around, and you won’t even tell me the real reason why.”

“I wish I could. There are things about me I can’t explain. Things that would frighten you if you knew. Dangerous things.”

Rolling her eyes probably wasn’t mature, but it matched her mood. “Like what? What haven’t I seen?” she asked with incredulity. “I mean, let’s recap shall we the items I’ve discovered so far? I’ve seen you naked in the freezing cold. I’ve heard you cuss. Seen you fight. Kill. Heck, I even saw you pee while we were traveling. What else is left?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And you’d faint if I showed you.”

She ogled him, sure she’d heard wrong. She’d seen him naked. Touched him.
What could he possibly mean by show?
“Show me what? What can you possibly have hidden that you think would chase me away?”

“It’s big.”

She wiggled. “Yes it is.”

The O of shock on his face was totally worth her burning cheeks at her daring innuendo.

“Saucy woman.” A grin curved his lips. “I see my bad influence is rubbing off.”

“More like in.”

He chuckled. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Do? How about trust me? Trust me to handle whatever it is you’re still hiding. Trust me to accept it the way I’ve accepted everything else about you. I—” She swallowed as she hesitated, afraid of rejection, but even more afraid of not saying anything. For once in her life, if ever there was a time to speak up, it was now. Gene had proven he would torture himself rather than give in. But maybe if he heard how she felt… “I want us to stay together. I care about you, Gene.”

“As in a couple?”

Did he have to sound so surprised? She nodded.

“You have seen how I live?” Again with more incredulity.

She nodded again.

“You do realize I am a killer.”

“Yes. But you’re not a bad man.”

The sound he made could only be labeled as scoffing. “Only you would say or think that. The rest of the world sees me for what I am.”

“I don’t care what they think. The world thought my husband was a nice guy, but he was a jerk behind closed doors.”

“Whereas I’m a jerk in public,” he teased.

“More like gruffly assertive,” she sassed back. “However, I like that about you. I like that you don’t wear a mask. So whatever it is that has you thinking you need to run from what we have between us, running from me, can’t be that bad. Tell me, Gene. Tell me what’s really holding you back.”

“Trust.” He blurted the word out.

She frowned. “You don’t trust me?”

“I do. But, if I let you in on my secret, I don’t know if you still will.”

He feared his secret would make her turn from him? Silly man. What could be worse than knowing he was a killer? “Give me some credit. I might be faint-hearted, but I’m not shallow.”

“No, but you’re human.”

A comment that made no sense. Only human was what they all were. Flawed, human, and capable of acceptance despite differences.

He let out another of his heavy sighs. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Surely she could handle whatever big secret was left.
I don’t care what it is if I get a chance to prove to him that we can be together.
Because more and more, the very idea of going their separate ways brought a crushing pain to her heart.

Somewhere along their journey, Vicky had fallen for this gruff bad boy. Violent, crass, caring, and oh so sexy, Gene was proving to be everything she wanted in a man and a companion. Yeah, he didn’t always talk a lot, but then again, she wasn’t a chatterbox. As for his love of this remote part of the country? Hopefully she could talk him into getting at least a house, with actual plumbing, but other than that, so long as she had her books and the Internet, she could see herself enjoying the quiet lifestyle, especially if it meant spending it with Gene.

If their enemies didn’t get them first.

But that wasn’t the
big secret
—and, yes, she mentally finger quoted. So what on earth could he consider awful enough that he didn’t think she’d want to stay with him?

Is he dying of some incurable disease? Incapable of having children? Married already?

Hmm, all of those were enough to give her pause, but the real reason proved to be something far, far more unexpected.

Do I show her?
Brody seemed to think she could handle it. She had adapted well so far to everything else that had happened to her, but he was about to skew her whole perception of reality.
I’m about to let her know that the world she thought she knew and understood has monsters.

Could she handle it? Or was the truth not about her, but him?
Maybe the person who can’t handle it is me.
Because he feared she’d turn her back on him. That the sweet trust he so enjoyed in her eyes would change.

Then again, how was him ditching her and running away any better? In the one scenario, he was out of her life always wondering what could have been, and in the other, she would flee from him frightened. What about the third option? The one where she saw him for who he was and accepted it?

He could almost feel his sarge’s spittle as he yelled, “
Stop your fucking belly aching, soldier, and man up.”
Gene took a deep breath and uttered his dark secret. “I am a polar bear.”

There. He’d done it. Stated it aloud. No taking it back. The bare truth. Now for the deciding moment.

Vicky cocked her head and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t get it.”

“I. Am. A. Polar. Bear.” Because surely stating it slowly would help her grasp the concept.

“What is that, like your Chinese animal or something? Because I’ve never heard of the zodiac having a bear.”

How obtuse could she be? There was denial, and then there was his woman. Gene almost smacked himself in the forehead. “Holy fuck, Pima. Do you intentionally do this to drive me nuts?”

“I don’t get it. I mean, you keep saying you’re a bear, and, yes, I’ll grant that you’re grumpy and growly and stuff. But—”

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes grew wide as he showed her. Already naked, he didn’t have to strip, and while their room wasn’t the biggest, he had no problem shifting.

Skin rippled as fur sprouted. Lush white fur. Hands and fingers turned into paws with claws. His face elongated into a muzzle, and he grew in size and height until he sat, in all his polar awesomeness, before her.

To her credit she didn’t faint. Nor did she scream. As a matter of fact, she didn’t do a damned thing. Not blink or breathe or move.

Had she died of shock? No, because he could hear her racing heart.

Unable to speak, and wary of even the lowest growl lest he freak her out even further, he waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, she let loose a breath and uttered, with some amount of awe, “Holy fuck. You’re a fucking polar bear.”

The foul language coming from his naked Pima, as she sat crossed-legged on his mattress, would have made him laugh as a man, but as his bear, he could only snort and chuff.

If possible her brows crawled higher on her forehead. “You’re a bear.
My
bear. It was you all along. You were the one always saving me.”

The scar gave him away.

He was prepared for many things, more shock, maybe some fear, perhaps even a bit of awe—because his beast truly was magnificent. However, the flinging of her arms around his neck as she hugged him tight and buried her face in his fur? Yeah, he totally wasn’t prepared for that.

“I can’t believe you thought this would scare me off,” she murmured in his fur. “You’re so gorgeous. And strong. And a bear!” She said this as if it were the most wonderful thing ever. “I love polar bears. Oh my god. I have so many questions for you. Which I guess you can’t answer right now, but I totally intend to ask when you’re a man again. Or are you a man? Is there a name for you? Like werebear? And how did you get this way? Can you change whenever you want?”