Wild Men of Alaska Collection

by Tiffinie Helmer

  Softly her fingers traced the bones in his face. His eyes shuttered closed on a groan. “Gemma, tell me you can feel me too.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s as though you’re really here with me. Alive.” She cupped his jaw, the stubble raspy against her fingers, and placed her other hand on his chest. Unbelievably, his heart pounded fast under her palm. His skin was hot like he had an internal sun heating him from the inside out.

  Slowly he grasped her shoulders. “Let me—I have to—” His mouth was on hers, kissing her, plundering, groaning as he yanked her into his arms. She melted into him. All of her soft curves linked with his hard angles, like puzzle pieces always meant to be together.

  “Gemma,” he moaned. “Please, I need—”

  “Yes, I need too,” she rushed to finish for him.

  “Are you sure?” Warm rich brown eyes stared into hers.

  “God, yes.”

  “I don’t know how much foreplay—”

  “No foreplay.” She flipped the button free on his shorts, besides who knew what kind of time they had together? “We’ve had weeks of foreplay.” She slid his zipper down. “I need to see you. Really see you. All of you. Now.”

  In a flurry, he stripped off his clothes.

  Her eyelids threatened to close from the sheer beauty of this man, but she forced them to stay open, not wanting to miss a minute of viewing his body.

  There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. She’d guessed this from feeling him in her dreams, and dancing with him the night before. But in the flesh he was magnificent. Worship worthy. Muscles corded and hardened every inch of his skin. His upper body bunched as though he could easily shoulder the weight of the world, angling down to a solid waist with muscles defined in a way she’d never seen illustrated outside of a book. Her eyes traveled lower, hoping the promise of his torso extended to other parts as well.

  A choking sound came from him, and too late she remembered he could read her thoughts when they weren’t jumbled. They weren’t jumbled now. Call it a one track mind. She had it. Regardless of the blush heating her face, she had to look, and then stared. Her mouth fell open in a silent “O”.

  His penis jutted out from the V-line of his groin, proud and unapologetic of its size and thickness. He flexed the muscles of his abdomen, making it bob in a playful hello that was anything but reassuring. She’d felt that thickness and length pressing against her. But feeling and seeing apparently were two vastly different things.

  “Looking at me like that makes me glad for every damn mountain I struggled to climb.”

  She licked her lips. She couldn’t wait to climb him.

  A surprised guttural sound escaped him, and he took a large step back, putting distance between them. “Keep thinking like that and I won’t be able to behave.”

  When had he ever behaved?

  He’d snuck into her dreams, seduced her in her sleep. Bewitched her every thought. “I’m not asking you to behave.” Quite the opposite, in fact.

  “I want this to be special for you, Gemma. Not just a tumble like I’ve had with so many other women. I want to love you.”

  “Love me then.” The words came out like a dare. “Love me until I know nothing but you. And you know nothing but me,” she couldn’t help adding. She reached for the hem of her top and whipped it off, her breasts bouncing with the action. Her bottoms went next, leaving her as naked as Eve to his Adam. In this paradise, it was easy to imagine the world barely born and just the two of them existing to love one another.

  “Oh, Gemma.” A low moan escaped from deep within his throat. His hand clenched around hers, and the space he’d put between them disappeared like it had never been. A low growl preceded his fingers fisting in her hair, and his mouth devouring hers. She’d broken the thread he’d been holding onto, had felt it snap in the air with her last words. With the one hand gripping her hair, holding her mouth prisoner to his plundering, his other hand seized her hip, yanking her flush against him.

  His erection searched for entry between her thighs as though it had a mind of its own. That she had no doubt, as the bulbous head found her wet and slick. He lifted her leg around his hip and entered her with one hard thrust, arching her body backward.

  Breath whooshed out of her, and she couldn’t get it back.

  In this position, she was completely at his mercy. Not any man could hold her body this way, and do what he was doing to her, without the strength of steel infused within his very fiber.

  Gasping, she tore her mouth free of his, her neck arcing into the bow her body had become. From chest bone to hip bone, they were one as he bent his powerful body over her, in a way forcing her to take everything he had to give. He held himself impossibly deep within her, breathing hard, keeping their bodies flush and tight, his mouth hovering over her collarbone.

  Lightly he scraped her skin with his teeth. “Gemma,” he groaned. “I’ve never felt so...so complete as I feel buried within the depths of your beautiful body.”

  She melted further at his words. A rush of molten liquid infused her body where they were joined, and her inner muscles contracted in a series of hot spasms.

  She stretched her arms around his neck and held on as he slowly, painstakingly retreated from the heat of her body, and then thrust in to her again. She’d never been held like this before. Never been made love to like this and didn’t know how long she’d last without crumbling at his feet. Muscles strained as sensations snapped and sparked with electrical current.

  “Tighten your hold on to me,” he ordered, lifting her other leg to hook his hip, his arms wrapping like steel bands around her. In one graceful, measured move, he lowered them to the lush, carpeted ground without retreating from the zenith of her body.

  How did a man move like this?

  “Yoga,” he answered. His mouth stole her breath as his teeth captured her nipple. With a flick of his tongue against the turgid peak, he tugged and released it, only to suck the nub roughly into his mouth as his hips slammed hard into her.

  Her arms hooked around his upper torso as she attempted to anchor herself. If anything she found herself holding on more in this position than the last one as he mindlessly pounded into her.

  “Oh, God,” she began to chant. She tried to slow the reaction of her body, wanting it to last longer, but sensations danced over her like vibrant waves of the Northern Lights. “Oh, my God.” Electrical currents charged her with each plunge and retreat. His mouth continued to lick, suck, and nip at her breasts, his hands yanking her closer, spreading her, angling her hips upward, opening her to the sweet assault of his body as he imprinted on hers with voltage too high to contain.

  “Ohmygod,” she screamed to the Heavens.

  His answering shout of satisfaction joined in with the cadence of her cries, clutching her tight within his iron grasp as he emptied his essence inside her.

  She imploded into the fabric of the Universe.

  Lucky’s body settled softly over hers, his weight delicious.

  “Oh, God that was amazing,” she gasped.

  “You gotta quit throwing that word around. Someone will hear.”

  No way did she have the strength to move even if a crowd of thousands had gathered. “Who will hear?”

  “God,” he leaned in and whispered, nibbling on her ear.

  She giggled then sobered, her wide eyes meeting his. “You’re not kidding.”

  “Kinda. Sorta. Yeah, not really. I haven’t seen the Big Guy as I’m stuck in Limbo. But hard not to believe He exists with all this.” He lifted his head, looking around them at their glorious surroundings, then back to her. His eyes heated with emotion as he gazed into hers. “And with what just happened between us.”

  “Do you, uh, think what just happened was okay?” She shrugged. “You know, with Him?” And you, she silently added.

  “As far as I’m concerned, He made all this possible. You are meant to be here. Now. Like this. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” He caressed her face with the
back of his fingers. “As for me, there is nothing in my life, or death, that compares to what I just experienced with you. I love you, Gemma, more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.”

  Tears tickled the back of her throat, making it impossible to speak. Something in the way she looked at him must have satisfied him, for he smiled, and softly kissed her lips. Taking time to treasure rather than plunder.

  They held each other like that for a long time, leisurely caressing, softly kissing, as they seemed to float in a moment of weightlessness.

  “This place is so beautiful,” Gemma murmured, gazing up at the puffy clouds so white they gleamed like pearls.

  “Nothing is as beautiful as you are.”

  She angled her head to look at him, her mind needing to see his reaction, though her heart feared for his answer. “How could you ever leave such a place?”

  He smoothed her hair to fan on the grass, before his eyes could meet hers. “It’s a spirit prison, Gemma. Doesn’t matter how pretty it’s dressed up, it’s still a prison.”

  “So if you choose to stay with me, you can leave this place?”

  “Yes.”

  But what kind of hell would that be? In her life but not. A spirit to wander and never die.

  “Let’s not talk about that.” He gave her a hard, quick kiss. “I don’t want to waste one moment of being with you like this.” His lips trailed down her neck.

  “Could I stay here with you?”

  He froze, and then his head came up, his eyes piercing hers. “No. Don’t even entertain the thought. This isn’t living. It’s existing. No hunger, yet you can eat if you want to. Everything you think you want is provided, but it isn’t real.” He released her and fell back on the grass, linking his arms behind his head gazing up at the sky. “At first, I loved it here. I climbed all those mountains, explored endless valleys and hills. Experienced beauty in landscapes like I’d never seen before. But there was always something off. There is no challenge. No change.”

  “How long will I be able to stay here with you?”

  He turned, and his sad eyes meet hers. “You’re already leaving me, babe.” His finger traced the side of her face, her bottom lip, trailing over the curve of her chin. “I suspect you look to me now, how I look to you. There is translucence about you, and you’re fading, fast.”

  She felt it now, a heaviness pulling her as though she was anchored somewhere and the slack was being pulled out of the line. It must be the effects of the sleeping pill, or whatever her mother had given her, wearing off.

  “I don’t want to leave you.” Not after finally being with him. Loving him.

  He kissed her, held her locked within his arms, yet she could feel herself slipping away. His mouth became more demanding, as he gripped her tighter. There was a moan of despair as she was taken from him, ripped from the comfort and love she’d found in his arms.

  A cry as if his heart were being torn from his chest ripped through the tatters of space.

  Gemma jerked up in bed feeling like the wind had been knocked out her. She was cold, the bed empty, and she was fully dressed in her “I Otter Be Asleep” pajamas. The same pajamas that she remembered stripping out of in front of Lucky.

  That hadn’t been a dream. It couldn’t be. She knew it in her core, in her heart. But waking up in her bed made it hard to believe she’d actually made love to Lucky.

  Despair threatened to swamp her. She climbed out of bed, and any doubt that she’d been with him evaporated. It had been a long time since she’d been with someone and the physical aches were a pleasurable reassurance that she hadn’t dreamt being with him. The night had been magical, what they’d shared had been out of this world.

  She chuckled with the thought. Out of this world pretty much said it all.

  She jumped in the shower, humming as she got ready for work. It wasn’t until she was on the way to Chinook Books that the gravity of her situation hit her.

  She’d slept with her Dreamweaver, participated in astral sex, and would do so again if given the opportunity.

  And didn’t she have the opportunity shut away in the drawer of her night table in the form of a baggie of little white pills her mother had supplied her?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Saturdays were always busy, and Gemma was able to lose herself in book recommending, one of her favorite things about running the bookstore. There was a steady stream of customers until about three in the afternoon.

  She was in love with a man with no foreseeable way of having a normal relationship. But then who really had a normal relationship? Her parents hadn’t. They hadn’t even been married, in the legal sense. Siri didn’t believe in a legal document proclaiming them married by the government. Instead, they’d participated in a hand-fasting when Gemma had been old enough to be the flower child.

  Her father had been the exact opposite of her mother, and he’d loved all the differences. Gemma remembered how he’d looked at Siri with so much love it hurt as though the definition of the Universe was held within Siri’s eyes.

  Lucky had looked at her like that last night.

  A bittersweet smile curved her lips. What would her father say about the situation she’d gotten herself into? Would he warn her off like Siri had, or encourage her to follow her heart?

  As logical as her father had been, when it came to love he was as impractical as Siri. One thing Gemma did know, Siri had never loved her father. Not like he’d loved her.

  Gemma had checked in with Rosie earlier in the day to see how Siri had fared after her stint in jail. Apparently it hadn’t disturbed her one bit. She’d still been asleep. A good sign since when this had happened in the past, Siri would go into a manic phase with days of not sleeping. Kind of like Gemma was doing. Could that be a sign she was following in Siri’s footsteps? Should she have made an appointment with Doc Walton too?

  But then if she mentioned to Doc Walton that she was seeing a Dreamweaver, taking her mother’s sleeping pills, and having astral sex, he would no doubt set her up for an evaluation in the psych ward.

  The bells over the door chimed, and Gemma glanced up, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Though with the direction her thoughts had taken she was no longer in the mood to endure customers.

  Tern marched in like she was on a mission. Gemma’s smile faded. What now?

  “I have something for you.” Tern glanced around the store to see a few stragglers in the café, Amie behind the counter cleaning up, and Callista occupied at the register with a customer. “Good, you’re not busy.”

  “That’s not a good thing for someone who is self-employed.”

  “You know what I meant.” Tern held up a necklace with a deep bluish-purple crystal wrapped in silver wire. “Here, you need to wear this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Indigo tourmaline. It will help open your third eye, the sixth chakra, and strength your ability to transcend your reality. Go ahead, put it on.”

  Gemma slid the necklace over her head even though she wasn’t sure she wanted help “transcending her reality.” She jolted when the stone brushed against her heart. Her hand smoothed the tourmaline in place. What the hell had that been? Static electricity in the air? Crystals didn’t have magical powers. Did they?

  Tern gave her an approving smile. “I’ve done more research and if you actually have sex with Lucky the act will strengthen your bond.”

  “Shh.” Gemma grabbed Tern’s elbow. “Come here.” She dragged Tern into the bookshelves of Philosophy and Travel, providing them some privacy where they wouldn’t be overheard.

  Tern squinted and then gasped. “Oh my God. You’ve been with Lucky. What happened? I need details.”

  Details she wasn’t going to get. But then Tern knew how gifted a lover Lucky was. Jealousy rose up in Gemma. Her friend had been with the man she loved. Experienced the joy Gemma had found in his arms. That was one very important thing that friends should not share.

  “How?” Tern asked. “T
hat storm front moved in last night. I would think that in order for Lucky to be able to sustain enough of a presence to accomplish intercourse the solar flares would need to be out of this world.”

  There was that phrase again.

  “He didn’t visit me. I visited him.”

  That stopped her. “You made love with Lucky on the astral plane? In his realm?”

  The way she said that made it sound bad.

  “How did you travel there?”

  “Remember those sleeping pills my mom gave me after the Tarot reading? Well, I took one.”

  “Hmm.” Tern tapped her lower lip with her finger in thought. “How did you make it back?”

  “I assumed when the effects of the drug wore off. I woke up in my bed.”

  “And you know for sure that you were there and didn’t dream everything?”

  “It wasn’t a dream. You sound like I need to repent or something.” Hadn’t Tern been pushing for her to connect with Lucky, strengthen their bond? Wasn’t this why she’d given her the tourmaline to wear?

  “What is it?” she asked as Tern took a step back to study her, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. “Tern, what aren’t you telling me?” For cripes sake she was tired of people not telling her things.

  “You have the same look about you that your mother does.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “The colors in your aura are more vibrant, which is normal after having really good sex, but...you have similar breaks or holes in the layers like the aura that surrounds your mother.”

  “Aura?” Dreamweavers, astral planes, chakras, and now auras? Was her reality anything that she believed? If all this was true, where was her freaking starship? “What do you mean holes?”

  “I don’t know. Siri probably does.”

  “You can see auras but don’t know why mine would be broken?”

  “Not broken. Missing. If you want me to speculate, I’d have to say, part of you is still in the astral plane.”

  “You are busting through all the rules,” Hansen said, standing with his hands on his hips as though bringing judgment. “How did you get her here?”