by Zuri Day
After placing the loose tea into an infuser, he brought the mug over to the table. “It’s best to let it steep for a few minutes, to unlock the healing magic within the leaves.” He winked and returned to the chair.
“Tell me more about your family. Off the record. I hope you don’t mind my asking. You’re different than any guy I’ve ever met. I get the feeling your family and upbringing might have something to do with it. That’s why I’m asking.”
He nodded. “You are right. My grandparents especially have had a huge impact on how I see life. As I’ve already stated, my family is Yupik, with ties to the land that go back more than a thousand years.”
“That’s amazing. You can trace your history back that far?”
“Through our stories, we can. However, we can only provide documents for as far back as the seventeenth century, when my ancestors arrived from Siberia and Romania.”
“Arctic countries! So, for you, this cold weather is just a walk in the park. The Romanian connection also explains the darker tone to your skin.”
“That, and the fact that my father is black.”
She didn’t try to hide her surprise. “And he lives here...in Alaska?”
“Ha! I’ll admit that brothers aren’t running here in droves, but yes, he’s lived here for over forty years. An oil-rig gig offering excellent pay lured him here in the early seventies. Six months later he met my mom and Alaska became his home. My parents and three of my five siblings are scattered across the state.”
“I come from a big family, too. There are eight of us.”
“Rare to hear about big families these days so...that’s pretty cool.”
Teresa yawned.
“Looks like someone is ready for sleep.”
“I’m sorry. Between the tea and the stew, yes, I’m about knocked out.”
“Then let me get the bed ready.”
“Don’t worry about it. This couch is just fine.”
A small upturn of Atka’s lips revealed that dimple she’d first noticed at the brewhouse. “That couch is the bed.”
Teresa looked around. “Wait, is this it? There isn’t a bedroom?”
“No. But don’t look so scared. I’ll be fine on a pallet by the fire.”
“I feel bad kicking you out of your bed.” Atka raised a brow. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant...”
“I know what you meant. Let me put you in the chair until I make the bed.”
“No. You’ve been amazing, but it’s time I start trying to navigate on my own.”
“Just don’t put any weight on that ankle.”
“Okay.”
She pulled back the quilt, stood, teetering on one leg to get her balance, and hopped over to the chair, near where Atka stood. She was almost there when Atka’s sock that she wore hit a slippery spot on the floor and she slid, almost falling.
Straight into Atka’s arms.
Chapter 6
Throwing her arms around him to stop her fall, she looked into his eyes. Excitement replaced embarrassment. Whatever was in that tea had turned Teresa’s private thoughts to liquid that spilled out of her mouth like water. “Why don’t we just kiss and get it over with.”
“What did you just say?” The hands resting just above Teresa’s hips froze in place.
“The sexual tension is throbbing as much as my ankle! We’re both thinking about it. I know I am, and the way I saw you checking me out when I wasn’t looking, I think I’m right. We’ll just kiss, get a feel or two and stop the curiosity that’s buzzing around us. Then we can both sleep easy.”
“Teresa, I have a feeling that kissing you would wake up every single cell in my body. Here—” he turned and helped her into the chair “—let me get the bed ready.”
“Fine, but I insist you sleep there, too.”
He turned to her. “That’s not a good idea.”
“I’m not going to put you out of the only bed in the house.”
“I’m a frontiersman, remember? I’ve slept on the cold hard ground in the dead of winter.”
Teresa was thinking of something hot and hard, but it wasn’t terra firma. “Your chivalry is impressive, but that’s the arrangement I’ll accept. Either you share the bed or I sleep on the floor.”
Another long stare from deep, unreadable eyes. He said nothing as he finished setting up the sofa sleeper with clean sheets and a couple of the quilts he’d brought out for Teresa.
Once finished, he turned to her with hands on hips, blowing out a breath of exasperation. “This is crazy.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Look, I’m a gentleman, but I’m not made of stone. Plus, it’s been a while since...you know...certain things have happened, so...one innocent rollover in the night, an accidental touch of skin and... I’m not sure I could control what happened after that.”
“Are you sure I’d want you to?”
“Your ankle is beginning to swell again. You need to lie down.”
Two long strides and he was over to the chair, scooping her up, and placing her on top of the soft, flannel sheets. He positioned a pillow beneath her injured ankle. He tenderly swept an errant strand of hair from her forehead. “Sleep well, papoota.”
After a quick shower, Atka dressed in an undershirt and pair of jeans. He banked the fire, turned out the lights and crawled into bed. He moved as far from Teresa as humanly possible but couldn’t escape the delicious scent of flowers and citrus and some kind of musk that insisted on assaulting him.
For a while, the only sounds heard were logs softly popping and falling into the dying flames.
Then Teresa turned toward Atka. “Do you always wear your street clothes to bed?”
A pause and then, “I usually wear nothing to bed.”
“Oh.”
“Good night, Teresa.”
“Good night.”
The fire died in the hearth, but in Atka’s loins, it burned hotter than ever. To stay calm—and soft—he practiced meditation, focusing on anything and everything except the beautiful woman beside him and the scent wafting from her body and teasing his nostrils every time he inhaled. The moment felt surreal, like a dream. Who knew when he began the day that it would end with a beautiful, injured, raven-haired bird tormenting him endlessly by sharing his bed? After an hour of intense frustration, Atka threw back the covers, eased out of bed and went into the bathroom. Pacing the small confines, he gave himself a good tongue-lashing.
Stop being ridiculous, Atka!
You should have taken her to the hospital, as she suggested. You didn’t! So stop acting like a weakling, go out there, and—
“Atka?”
His heart skipped a beat. He opened the door. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
Hell, no. “Yes. Is your foot hurting? Do you need another ice pack?”
“No. Maybe another pill, though?”
“Sure.”
Grateful for something to do that would take his mind off what couldn’t happen, he turned on a night-light, retrieved the pills and another bottle of water and took them over to Teresa. The activity calmed him down enough to give bed and sleep another try.
“Atka?” Her voice was soft, delicate.
“Yes?”
“Kiss me.”
“Go to sleep, Teresa.”
“Didn’t you tell me to help ease the pain in my ankle by thinking about other things? That’s what I’m doing. You are what I’m thinking about, and a kiss is what I want to help me stay focused on that and not the pain.”
“Teresa, you have no idea the door you’re opening.”
A pause and then, “I’ll take my chances.”
No movement at first. Then, a shifting on the sofa sleeper, until Atka’s body lay aligned
with hers. A tentative hand on the thigh that ever since first seeing it he’d longed to touch.
Teresa shifted.
“No, stay still.”
“But—”
“Still...and quiet.”
He ran his finger up the side of her thigh, across the band of her thong and over her stomach. As he did so, he raised up on one elbow, sensing more than seeing Teresa’s face in the near dark.
He bent his head and met her cheek. He kissed it.
And on to the neck bearing the fragrance of his frustration. He licked it.
Teresa lay there. Still. Quiet. Waiting.
His hand continued its journey beneath the flannel shirt that looked so good on her, stopping just below her breast.
He touched his lips to hers. The sensation was like two soft pillows colliding—light, airy. His thumb brushed the underside of her breast. He kissed her again, their lips touching softly, and then his tongue gliding over their seam.
She opened her mouth, her head turning and searching.
“Be still.”
His thumb flicked her nipple.
Teresa gasped, tried to take in more air as Atka’s ministrations were quickly taking her breath away.
In this moment, with her mouth open for air, he covered it with his own, breathing into her mouth as his tongue searched for hers and found it. Thus began a familiar duel, tongues twirling, slowly, one a casual exploration of the other. Soft at first, and then harder, with his mouth and with the thumb that continued to lazily glaze her nipple. His hand began to slide back down, across her stomach, his index finger circling her navel, pausing at the top of her thong and then...
“We should stop now.” Atka’s breath came out in short bursts. “We should or I’ll—”
Teresa reached up and placed her hand on his neck, forcing his face close to hers, demanding a kiss without asking, taking what she wanted as if it were her right.
He moaned, pushed away the quilt that covered her and ravished her mouth. It felt like moments. It felt like years.
He stopped. Rolled over. The room was quiet except for the release of a snap, the sound of a zipper and the rustle of denim as Atka removed his pants. His undershirt followed. Silently, he unbuttoned the shirt that covered Teresa, pushed it away and gazed at her, almost a silhouette in the night, lit only by the light of the night-light and moon. Still, against the soft ivory-colored sheets, he made out her hard, erect nipples, flat, taut stomach and a hairless vagina that beckoned him closer.
He complied.
Another exploratory kiss and the journey continued. Back to her neck, kisses and licks, across her shoulders to the valley of her breasts. Teresa shivered. Atka smiled. He knew that the windchill had nothing to do with the goose bumps his tongue encountered on its way to her nipple, swirling around the areola, swiping across her nipple in a major tease, even as his hand covered her paradise and rested there. Less a tease, more a promise.
He sucked her cool nipple into the warmth of his mouth.
“Ooh!” Teresa spread her legs, lifted her pelvis, inviting the hand that rested on her heat to further action.
He responded with a long, slender finger down the crease of her paradise once, and again, and a third time before parting her moistening folds and sliding inside. She swirled her hips, arching again.
“Watch your foot. Be still.”
“I... I can’t.”
He chuckled. “I know.”
A finger slid into the core of her sex, even as Atka gave due attention to the other rosy nipple begging for its fair share.
“Atka.”
“Okay.”
He released the nipple and took his tongue on a meandering trail from her breasts to her navel, over to the hip that had caused him such turmoil. He licked it. Nipped it. Kissed the sting. Nibbled his way along her thong’s band to the barely-there fabric that covered the prize. He kissed her lower lips through the fabric. Licked. Nipped. Kissed.
She arched, ground her pelvis against his mouth. He slid the fabric to the side and answered her silent request. His tongue laving her pearl and her insides with long, sure strokes followed by short, quick flicks. He was at once thorough and gentle, commanding and sure. His fingers played an orgasmic melody on the inside of her heat while his tongue held down harmony on the outside. She burst into climatic applause, her entire body shaking from the intensity that had been created.
Atka leaped from the bed, raced to the bathroom and retrieved a box of rarely used condoms. Wasting no time, he slid one on, returned to the bed and in one long thrust slid into home, and set up a rhythm that would last a good while.
Sometime later, Teresa spoke into the abject quiet. “Atka?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for the kiss.”
Atka smiled in the darkness. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter 7
Teresa stirred, awakened by the smell of coffee and the glare of sunlight. She blinked her eyes against the brightness and pulled herself up to a sitting position. Looking down, she was surprised to see the flannel shirt Atka had hurriedly removed last night on and buttoned, socks on her feet and a fresh ice pack on her ankle. When she looked up, it was into Atka’s heated gaze.
“Good morning, papoota princess.”
It had been a long time since a man had made Teresa blush, but she did, under Atka’s intense scrutiny. “What does that mean?”
“Papoota or the complete phrase papoota taya, is a term of endearment. Princess because—” he shrugged “—I don’t know. You strike me as a princess.”
“I guess that’s a good thing.”
“It is.”
“What does your name mean?”
“Guardian angel.”
“How appropriate, given the circumstances. Good morning, guardian angel.”
“It is indeed. Care for coffee?”
“Actually I need to use the restroom, and I’d love a shower.”
“Of course.” Atka wiped his hands on a dish towel and walked over to the sofa sleeper. He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
She smiled.
“How’s your ankle?”
“It hurts. But not as much as yesterday. Thanks for putting a new ice pack on it.”
They reached the bathroom. “Do you need me to help you?”
Teresa shook her head. “I think I can manage.”
Atka reached up and rubbed the side of her face. “Morning-after regrets?”
“No, I don’t believe in those. Last night was amazing. But with the daylight also comes the reminder that I’m not on vacation. I need to get to the hospital, get those crutches and try to salvage some work in the time I’ve got left.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Regrets?”
His eyes seemed to pierce her very soul. “Not one.”
During a long, hot shower, Teresa cleared her head. She’d meant what she said to Atka. Though shocked at how her attraction to Atka had brought out a brazenness she’d never before known, let alone shown, last night was amazing. Atka was a very generous lover, in every way. A part of her wanted to imagine a future with him, and more time together. But she was nothing if not realistic. It was clear that besides two bodies long overdue for sexual healing, and growing up in large families, they had nothing in common. She was bright lights, big city. He was Grizzly Adams’s baby brother, with snatches of swagger to throw her off guard. Best to call this what it was. Something Teresa Drake thought she’d never have. Something that was totally spontaneous and unintended.
A one-night stand.
That was last night. This was today. It was time to get out of the surreal zone that meeting the sexy Alaskan had created and get back to business. There was only one problem. The princess had no clothes.
After wrapping the t
owel around her, she hopped out of the bathroom. Atka was at once by her side, helping her to the bed that converted back to a sofa. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Cream, no sugar.”
“Would you like breakfast?”
“You actually like to cook?”
He chuckled and walked to the kitchen. “Yes. My emaaq and I bonded over dressing meats and baking pies. There are a lot of lessons to be learned in food.”
“Thanks for asking but no, I want to go to the hospital, have the ankle x-rayed to make sure it’s just a sprain, then try to see what else I can get written before I leave tomorrow.”
“We can do that.” Atka walked to the window, staring out as he sipped his coffee. He spoke without turning. “I can’t remember the last time we had this kind of snow in April. Normally we’re lucky to get an inch by now. It’s beautiful, though.”
“That beautiful snow is part of my problem right now.”
He looked at her. “How so?”
“Because showing up at the hospital in a man’s flannel shirt, boots and nothing else, while it’s snowing no less, isn’t the best for my image.”
“Sounds sexy to me.” Her expression conveyed the fact that she was not amused. “Tell you what. I know one of the doctors there. Why don’t I give him a call, have him come over and check you out and bring a pair of crutches. If he feels you need further examination, we can do it.”
“You’re a really nice guy. Ever thought about relocating...to California, for instance?”
“Ha! And become cityfied? Nope, never given it a thought.”
“Well, all good things must come to an end. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather you give me a ride to the B and B where I’m staying, and have the doctor meet me there.”
“Of course.” He crossed to the kitchen. “Finish up your coffee. I’ll get dressed, find something that will get you through the B and B lobby and we can be on our way.”
“I rented the house on the property so just get me from here to your car and then into that house and I’ll be okay.”
They’d reached the B and B, and the house Teresa had rented. Atka turned off the engine and turned to her. “You know what I’ve realized?”