Heart of Frankenstein

by Lexi Post

  His eyebrows rose. “Unacceptable?”

  “Yes. I won’t have you over-heating because you’re so busy taking care of me. You need to take care of yourself because if you get sick, I can’t help myself yet.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t get sick. Now take this pill, so it doesn’t hurt as much when I change your bandages.”

  She clamped her lips together tightly. It was a big risk, but she wouldn’t take the pill until he took off his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” He held the pill before her mouth, thoroughly confused.

  She shook her head.

  He sat back again, so she dared open her mouth to speak. “I will take my pill after you take off your shirt. Believe me, I’ve seen plenty of men shirtless, and it’s not a big deal. There is no reason for you to suffer from the warmth of your shirt.”

  He frowned, his black eyebrows lowering.

  If she had to bet on an emotion, she’d say he was frustrated. She just hoped he didn’t call her bluff and start changing her bandages.

  He leaned in again, holding the pill. “Take the pill and then if I need to disrobe, I will.”

  She shook her head again, keeping her mouth shut. She didn’t put it past him to sneak the pill in if she spoke.

  When he sat back again, a myriad of emotions crossed his face, but she couldn’t tell what they were without seeing his eyes. “You won’t like it.”

  “It has nothing to do with what I like or don’t like. You need to be comfortable and wearing that shirt out of some kind of decorum is silly. You take it off and I’ll take the pill.”

  His jaw clenched as he sat there, holding both the cup and pill.

  Part of her wanted to relent at his struggle, but her gut told her this was important, and as much as she hated to put him through revealing his many scars, she wanted him to be comfortable enough around her to do so. She didn’t have a clue as to why.

  Finally, he rose and set the pill and cup on the chair.

  Her stomach tingled in anticipation. She had an idea of what to expect. She just needed to control her facial expression in case his front was worse than his back.

  He continued to stand there, obviously still not completely decided.

  “This isn’t a big deal. Just take your shirt off, be comfortable and I’ll take my pill. I care about your health as much as you care about mine.” She gave him a soft smile.

  He shook his head so slightly that it was barely perceptible, but she caught it. As if stealing himself for rejection, his neck muscles tightened just before he lifted one hand up, grasped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, gripping it in one hand like a life line.

  Since he continued to look down, it gave her the opportunity to view his entire torso. The scars weren’t surprising since they all continued from the back, two that circled his shoulders, one across his chest and the uneven ones on his arms.

  What did surprise her was the muscle beneath, bulging between the scars as if they were what held everything in place. His chest was massive and his abdominals like the ripples in the dunes of the Sahara. He even had the v-lines on either side of his hips that disappeared beneath his jeans. The leather around his wrists and neck made him look like a gladiator.

  “Wow, you’re ripped.” Her exclamation came out before she could stop it. Shoot, she didn’t mean as in ripped up. She needed to clarify that. “I’ve seen other men ripped with muscle, but you’re by far the strongest.” She probably didn’t make it better, but her heart was pattering in her chest at an uneven rate and half the blood in her brain had just traveled south. “I’m so glad I don’t have to share you.”

  She wanted more than anything to look at his face, but on the off chance he watched her, she let her gaze enjoy the view.

  “You don’t find me repulsive.” His statement was said in a soft tone as if he was in shock.

  Good. Beauty was more than skin deep and he had a beautiful soul, but even his body was more beauty than damage. “Of course, I don’t. Why would I? In fact, I’m grateful to whoever sewed you back together because if you weren’t alive and in the strong condition you’re in, I would either be dead or in a lot more pain than I am.”

  At her mention of pain, he seemed to remember what he’d been about to do. Immediately, he threw the shirt to the couch, picked up the cup and medicine, and sat down.

  The spruce scent she always noticed when he was nearby, heightened as if it came from his very pores. There was a wildness about it that spoke to her base female instinct.

  He leaned in and she opened her mouth obediently. After placing the pill on her tongue, he tipped the cup so she could swallow the cold water.

  It was the first time he gave her water directly from the sink, and its chill surprised her. It was refreshing, helping to take the edge off her rising desire. “Thank you.”

  “It will be some time before it takes effect. I need to go outside and bring in more wood for the stove.” He rose as he spoke, quickly depositing the cup in the sink as he made a beeline for the door.

  She snapped her mouth shut as he opened it and headed out without his shirt. It had taken far too long to get him out of it. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage him to put it on again.

  Relaxing back into the cushion, she smiled. That had been a very pleasant surprise. Not only did she help him out, but she discovered that her mountain man was hot. He was the kind of eye-candy that could give her a toothache…if it wasn’t for those scars. She had to find out what had happened to him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As the cold air hit his bare torso, he breathed deeply, his muscles finally loosening. He’d contemplated refusing Angel’s request and changing her bandages anyway, but she would cry from the pain. He couldn’t bear to be the one to cause her tears.

  He strode down the steps, headed for the wood pile. He hadn’t dared to look at her face, knowing she’d be shocked and upset by his scars. When she sounded as if she admired his body, he couldn’t help glancing at her quickly, only to find her smile growing and her pupils dilating, taking over more of her green eyes.

  That look had sent sexual need speeding strait to his groin so hard that he’d barely kept a groan from escaping. Now he was the one in shock. Never had a woman looked at him with such appreciation.

  Never.

  A tiny flame of hope sputtered to life deep in his chest. He tried to ignore it, but it refused to be snuffed. Was there a chance she would stay with him after she healed?

  He let his imagination run. Images of them eating together, sleeping together, and working side by side to make her as comfortable as possible populated his head. Visuals from books he’d read on human mating swirled around in his mind, causing his cock to grow hard with need.

  He stopped to pull it out of his pants, a release almost imminent. He wouldn’t scare her with his desire. If all that he read was correct, she must find fulfillment first. Her pleasure would be his.

  He stroked himself as he looked downward from his mountain ledge. The cold barely registered against his skin, but where it did, it added excitement to his already growing pleasure. He tried to picture what Angel would look like beneath him, but the image wouldn’t come, his experience seeing an actual naked woman sorely lacking.

  Instead, he closed his eyes and let memories of others having sex fill his mind. Sounds of couples moaning, women yelling and men panting as they reached the ultimate nirvana in each other’s arms sent his heartbeat racing.

  His body tensed, his balls tightened and his release spurted from his cock onto the white snow. He focused on his pleasure, pulling every last drop from his body. As he calmed, the image of his intended mate infiltrated his mind. Her body curved, her pubic hair black and her breasts pointy. Her jaw had been delicate, her hair abundant.

  Then the image of her body being torn apart filled his mind. The despair of that night flooded him all over again, and despite his euphoria of seconds ago, he fell to his knees.

  “No.”
The word ripped from his throat was barely a whisper, the very air to make it extinguishing the small flame of hope that had lit in his heart. Akiakook had said memories returned when they were needed. The destruction of his mate was a reminder that he was alone…forever. He had no right to hope for anything else.

  Cleansing his cock and hands with snow, he rose, zipping himself in even as he turned and strode back to the woodpile. Peace, that elusive state, was all he had the right to hope for, though even that was a reach.

  Loading his arms with split logs, he ignored the minor scratching against the bare skin of his chest and walked back into his home.

  Angel’s eyes were closed, so he kept quiet, loathe to waken her until he had everything ready. His focus had to be on making her well. That was all.

  Pulling the supplies from his cabinet, he quietly set them on the end table next to the bed.

  “I heard you come in. I’m not asleep. Just resting. This medicine is good stuff.”

  He glanced at her face to find her eyes still closed. “You can feel it then.”

  “Oh yeah. I feel like I’m floating.” She smiled but still didn’t open her eyes.

  It would hurt, even with the medication, but at least it should dull the pain somewhat. Gently, he lifted her hand by the wrist and unwrapped it. As the last piece of material fell away, her wrist jerked in his grasp.

  “What’s that?” Her voice was strained.

  He examined the skin on her hands. Bumps covered it, some milk white, others dark. “You have frostbite blisters.” He picked up the knife he’d sterilized in the fire after he added more wood. “Some have broken. I need to remove the extra skin.”

  “Oh God. Will it hurt?”

  “Yes.” He hated that she would cry, but he’d promised to save her hands.

  “I can’t watch.”

  He didn’t look at her, but was glad she wouldn’t see what he did. It would look like he made the situation worse, though in fact it would be better. He’d first seen the same process while living in Greenland.

  Steeling himself against the crying that was sure to occur, he carefully began removing the dead skin. When no sound issued from her after he’d finished half of them, he looked at her.

  He was surprised to find her eyes open and quickly looked down. She’d been staring at him.

  “Is it done?” Her voice was strained.

  “No. I’ve only completed half.”

  “Okay.”

  When she didn’t say anything more, he risked a glance at her. She continued to stare at him, water in her eyes. Quickly, he went back to work, his chest tight at the pain he inflicted.

  It had to be done. He’d promised. He refused to disappoint her. Focusing again on the white blisters, he finished with the burst ones, ignoring the few red ones. When he’d finished, he wrapped her hand in moss then in a clean strip of his former flannel shirt.

  When he’d completed that hand, he set it down and glanced at her. Her beautiful eyes were closed and tear tracks coated her cheeks, but she hadn’t made a noise or tried to pull her hand away. “That hand is done.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. “That didn’t take too long. Have you done this before?”

  He lowered his gaze. “I have.”

  “I thought so. I feel so lucky that you found me.”

  At the tone in her voice, he couldn’t resist looking at her. Her green eyes were bright and their moisture reflected the fading light of the day. Her gaze held gratefulness and kindness.

  He turned back to his task. Gently, he picked up her other hand and went to work. When he’d finished that one, he set it down and rose to throw out the old bandages.

  “I’m so lucky to have a hot man tending to my every need. Must be a perk of getting lost in Alaska.”

  At her unusual statement, he looked over his shoulder to find a dazed smile curving her lips. She rolled her head back and forth then looked at him again. “Yup. The view is definitely a perk.”

  He steeled himself against the interest his body had at her words. She was on pain medication and didn’t know what she said. Unfortunately, his control over his body’s response was limited.

  Quickly, he resituated the chair toward the end of the bed. Her feet were far from the very end. After rearranging the supplies, he would need to change the bandages on her feet, he lifted the bottom of the quilt. “This shouldn’t hurt as much.”

  “I’m sure whatever you do will be wonderful.” Her voice was soft and had taken on a sing-song quality.

  Resisting the urge to look at her again, he unwrapped her feet. Relief swept through him at their condition. Just a few blisters and no red ones. Even better was the fact that no blisters had developed on the bottoms of her feet.

  When he found her, her feet were facing the morning sun and since her socks had been black, what warmth there was had found its way to her feet. “You should be able to walk again soon. We can check again in a few days.” He forgot to avoid her gaze and looked at her.

  Her smile was bright and her eyes had changed to a deeper green like that found on a spruce tree. Desire shot through his body so suddenly that he jerked before returning his focus to taking care of her.

  “I knew I could count on you. I’m going to have to find some way to repay you. Maybe we should start with a —ow!”

  He gritted his teeth to keep himself from turning his face toward her. He’d done nothing different with the blister he worked on now than the ones on her hands, but obviously the medicine had lessened her own control.

  “That hurts.” She pulled on her leg.

  He clamped down on her ankle. “Don’t move. I could cut you.”

  “Feels like you’re already doing that.” Her voice was less irritated and more whiney, which relieved him.

  Still, he didn’t delay in ministering to her feet. When he cleaned them, he wrapped each loosely in the remaining flannel. He was glad he’d requested Timber purchase him another shirt…if there were any large enough.

  Once again covering Angel’s feet with the quilt, he rose and turned away without looking at her. The medicine was playing with her mind and he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

  He threw out the old bandages and cloths he used and washed his hands.

  “Sas?”

  He stilled. She sounded sleepy. Maybe she’d fall asleep.

  “Sas, please come here.”

  He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the temptation she presented. Finally, he turned around and walked back to the bed. “Yes?”

  “I need to whisper.”

  “Then perhaps you should wait until later when you feel stronger.”

  “Please.” She sounded so helpless, he acquiesced. Bending, he moved his head closer.

  “You’re one of a kind.”

  He froze as the words chilled him to his core. But no sooner had she whispered them, then she lifted her head and her lips touched his.

  Shock held him immobile until her tongue begged for entrance into his mouth. His lips parted of their own accord, and she pressed their mouths closer as her tongue swept inside to touch his.

  Need flashed through his body like lightning and he jerked away. No! Spinning, he strode to the door, threw it open and left.

  Angela grinned. Wasn’t that the hottest kiss she’d ever had that wasn’t returned? She surprised the hell out of him. She loved that! And he tasted so good. Tart and sweet all at the same time. She giggled. Of course, it had to be the berries and syrup.

  Closing her eyes, she continued to smile. Sas was all man from his bulging biceps to his soft beard. What would his beard feel like if he were to kiss her everywhere? Oh, she liked that idea.

  She could lie here helpless as he made love to her. She could see it clearly. First, he’d strip off all her clothes, carefully because that was his way. She’d lie there stark naked as he looked at her with his intense dark eyes. She’d shiver with anticipation.

  Then he’d take off his jeans, and she’d finally get to see
his legs. His thigh muscles would be well-defined and hard, his calves larger than what she could grasp with two hands. His skin would be smooth and absent of the scars his torso had, making him more confident.

  Then he’d take down his underwear and a very large cock would greet her. She’d lick her lips and he’d bring it to her. Her mind drifted in pleasure.

  Sas stroked her lips with the tip of his cock, the smooth skin begging her to lick and suck, but as she darted her tongue out, he pulled it away.

  She pouted.

  He shook his head. “You’re too anxious.”

  “Of course, I am. I’ve been drooling over you for weeks.”

  He took her face in both his hands and tilted her head back. “But we had sex yesterday.”

  Before she could answer him, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, grasping his hair in one hand.

  He let go of her face and braced his arms on either side of her, never breaking their kiss as his body covered hers. He was huge, scary in his size, but he kept his weight from her even as his cock found the place between her legs that was moist and waiting for him.

  She bent her knees, urging him to enter her, but he didn’t. Instead, he rubbed his cock against her, his base stroking her clit up and down, spreading her own wetness between them.

  She tore her mouth away. “I want you inside me.”

  He pulled back to kneel between her legs. “You are too hot.”

  Too hot? There was no such thing.

  He raised his hand and showed a small snowball the size of a large marble.

  Her sheath flooded with anticipation. “What are you going to do with that?”

  As usual, he didn’t say anything. He simply stroked the little snowball across her nipples.

  The cold sent erotic spikes to her core as her nipples grew so hard it bordered on pain, but he kept circling them in turn then brushing them with the snow until it melted, leaving her breathless and wanting.

  She grasped his hand and licked the water from his fingers, then sucked them each in turn. Anything to get him to push his cock inside her.

  But he pulled his hand away from her and produced another small snowball. He held it for her to see once again. Spreading his own knees, he pushed her legs open wider.