Polar Heat

by Simone Beaudelaire

  “Welcome to my home,” he intoned, sweeping his arm to take in the space.

  She turned to him, blinking. Then she looked around, apparently noting the sofa made of rough-hewn logs and cushions upholstered in red and black plaid, two leather armchairs, a brick fireplace, and a kitchen along one wall. A door led to his master suite. A staircase opened into a loft with guest bedrooms lining a balcony.

  “Nice place,” she said. “Um, do you have a bathroom I could use? The cold, you know.”

  “Sure,” Russell replied. “You can use mine, in the master suite, or the guest bathroom. He indicated a door off the great room.

  She opted for the second choice and dashed away. Clearly, she felt uncomfortable. But with being in my home. I can't believe how easily she accepted everything else. Feeling more positive than he could remember being in ages, Russ meandered to the window and glanced out. The swirling flakes that had chased them home had thickened into an almost impenetrable curtain of white.

  Russ hunted down his spare cell phone and called the Golden School District office.

  “Mr. Brewer,” he said to the principal, who had answered the phone. “This is Russ Tadzea. I wanted to let you know that I have Miss Jenkins safe with me. We had to put the plane down, but she's fine. She's at my cabin.”

  “Oh, thank goodness, Russ,” Mr. Brewer replied. “We were worried sick when you didn't show up ahead of the storm. Is the plane okay?”

  “Shattered windshield,” Russ replied. “And now everything will be wet. But it could be worse.”

  “For sure,” Brewer agreed. “Okay, now that I know Riley is safe, I'll go home. It's miserable here and getting worse by the minute. My wife will have my hide if I ding the truck.”

  “Okay,” Russ agreed. “Talk to you later.”

  “Later.” As the other man hung up, Russ could have sworn he heard a chuckle.

  “Small towns,” Russ snorted to himself.

  “What was that?” a soft feminine voice broke into his thoughts and he turned to see Riley, standing uncertainly before him. He approached before she could make up her mind to cross that last distance. He took advantage of the moment, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “Riley,” he said softly, letting a hint of the bear rumble in his voice.

  “What are you doing, Russell?” she asked.

  “You know,” he said. “You let me kiss you in the dream. What will you let me do here?”

  Riley licked her lips and looked through her eyelashes again, shy, but not resistant.

  “Keep looking at me like that,” he said, “and you're going to find yourself kissed.”

  She made no move to protest or encourage him, so Russ just kissed her. She tasted so sweet, her lips tangy like peaches, soft and plump. She pushed them a bit outward, which he took as a sign of acceptance. Her sweet, feminine scent filled his nostrils, awakening his bear. A roar of triumph vibrated his throat.

  He pulled her closer, plastering her body against his, and then snarled. “Your clothes are soaking wet.”

  “I know,” Riley replied.

  “Let me get you something. Come with me.” Russ took Riley's hand and led her into his bedroom, where he dug around in his drawer and pulled out a sweatshirt. “I don't think I have any pants that will fit you. You're too short. But this would probably cover you to the knees.” He handed her the bright green garment.

  “Too short?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Only to wear my clothes,” he amended. “For everything else, you're perfect.”

  She smiled.

  “Are you socks wet?” Russ continued, eyeing her messy-looking loafers.

  “Drenched,” she admitted with a grimace. He added some plaid bed socks Mrs. Tomei had knitted.

  “I'm going to look like an idiot in this,” Riley complained.

  “No one will see but me,” Russ reminded her. “And you saw me bare-ass naked. Which is worse?”

  “Good point.”

  “I'll go light a fire in the fireplace,” he informed her. “I think we might lose power. I want to be ready.”

  “Okay,” Riley agreed. “My first winter in Alaska is turning out to be quite an adventure.”

  “The adventure is only beginning, honey,” he shot back. Then, before he left her to change, he took advantage of her receptive state to kiss her once more. She slipped her arms around his neck. “Hurry, Riley.”

  “Are we going somewhere?” she quipped.

  “I thought dinner and a movie, maybe.” She giggled. “But seriously, I want to talk to you, and I don't want to wait anymore.”

  Her smile faded to consideration. “Okay, Russ. I'll be out in a few minutes.” She hugged him gently and then let him go.

  Glad for the distraction from thinking about Riley stripping off her school clothes and wondering what kind of panties she wore, he turned his attention to the fireplace. A good supply of dried wood sat on the hearth, next to a hanging collection of fire irons. Long-handled matches awaited him in the drawer of the end table. He quickly assembled the logs and kindling before setting a match to them. Then he stared into the flames, contemplating the dancing orange and gold as though they held the key to the perplexing puzzle that was Riley Jenkins.

  She emerged from the bedroom and joined him, sinking to the floor and stroking the thick white fur of an irregularly shaped area rug.

  “Is this one of your kind?” she asked.

  Russ nodded. “It was one hell of a fight. I didn't want to kill, but he wouldn't stop. Wouldn't back down. If he'd won, I'd be a decoration in front of his fireplace now.”

  She shook her head. “Bears are different.”

  “Yes, and I'm man and bear, which is different again. I wonder how it is that you're so able to accept this.” He covered her hand with his.

  She shrugged. “I'm still considering whether hysterics would be more appropriate, but I feel the moment for freaking out has passed.”

  “You're amazing,” he told her. He tugged her hand, moving her closer to him. She turned partway, her face in profile to the fire. He also turned, meeting her pretty eyes and wishing the words to say all that hung between them were easier to form. He inhaled her fragrance. So many complex scents. Shampoo, a touch of perfume, and the swirling mélange that seemed to sink into every pore of his body and deep into his soul. He knew what it meant, though he'd never experienced it before. But how could he tell her? How could he phrase all he was thinking and feeling into human terms she would understand, let alone accept? “Riley, I…” he broke off, not sure how to start.

  She considered him, biting her lower lip. Then Riley rose up on her knees and leaned forward, touching her lips to his for the briefest of moments before sitting back down in a fiery blush.

  Russ couldn't help smiling. “Thank you, Riley. That helped a lot. I guess there's no need to deny there's something between us. Something special.”

  She nodded, but didn't speak.

  “I feel like… it could or maybe should be something more. What do you think?”

  She regarded him in silence for a long moment. It took all of Russ' force of will not to interrupt her and press for an answer, but he persevered.

  “Are you sure people won't look at us funny?” she said at last.

  Russ chuckled. “Honey, this is Alaska, not to mention a very small and remote part of the state. Will people look? Of course. New couples give everyone something to talk about for a few days. But no one will mind. Honestly, they've been speculating about how long it would take us to get together since the day I took out to dinner. No one will be surprised.”

  “Does anyone know about the bear thing?” she asked.

  “Not that I'm aware of,” he replied. “No one has called the zookeepers yet, at any rate.”

  A ghost of a smile creased her lips. “But you look… so much older. I didn't think an older man would be my thing.” She looked down, her face a mask of confusion.

  “Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't see
m to have much of a 'thing' yet, Riley. Have you had many serious relationships?”

  She shook her head.

  “How old are you, honey?”

  She glanced shyly through her lashes again in a way that made him want to kiss her even more. “Twenty-four.” Then she steeled herself. “What about you? At a guess, I'd say you're about forty. No one is going to blink at a sixteen year age difference?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait, does the bear thing change your lifespan.”

  Russ nodded slowly. “It does. While you're not wrong that I'm in early middle age, that doesn't translate to forty years. Though it's sort of equivalent to it.”

  “How long will you live?” Riley asked, eyes widening.

  Russ sighed and lifted Riley's hand to his lips. “Some live to be a hundred-fifty, though it's rare. One-twenty, one-twenty-five. Something like that. I'm sixty-five now. I should have another sixty years or so.”

  He could see her turning the numbers over in her mind. “That actually kinda works out, doesn't it?”

  A slow smile spread across Russ' face. “Pretty well, yes. Riley, I honestly don't think anyone will care about our perceived age difference. Most likely they'll just be happy for us. The question is, if you want to be with me, and I want to be with you, who cares what anyone else thinks?”

  “I know, I know,” she replied, exhaling loudly. “It's just… it's a small community. I'd like to find a place in it.”

  “You'll do better at that if you're dating a local,” he pointed out. “People will warm up to you more if they know you won't leave at the end of the school year.”

  She smiled. “There's that.”

  “So what do you say, Riley? Can we… be a couple?” The words bothered him. They sounded weak and tepid compared to what he wanted to say, but he knew she wasn't ready to hear the rest. This was as good a start as they were likely to get.

  “What would that mean, exactly?” she asked. He crooked one eyebrow. “I mean,” she amended, “is there some kind of werebear courtship ritual I should know about?”

  “Kind of,” he replied. “But that's not for today. Down the road a ways, we can talk about it. For now, it would be just what you'd expect. Of course, I'm still flying you from one school to another. That won't change. But when you're not working, we would spend time together. Fly to Fairbanks for a movie or to go shopping. Have dinner at the café. Go for walks in the woods, weather permitting.” He laced his fingers through hers. “Touch.” Then he drew her nearer to him. “Kiss.” He laid his lips on hers for an embrace of ephemeral lightness. “More when you're ready.”

  He kissed her again. This time more forcefully. This time Russ dared to touch Riley's lips with is tongue. She inhaled sharply. “Let me in, sweet girl,” he pleaded.

  Riley made a small, inarticulate sound and parted her lips. Russ plunged his tongue into her mouth. He drew her up to her knees so they could press their bodies together. With one hand he cradled the back of her head. The other he splayed on the center of her back. The way her own arms clung to his neck told him she liked how he was touching her, even though she merely acquiesced to the kiss without participating. Shy baby. I'll teach you. The thought of tutoring her in every aspect of lovemaking hardened him to aching alertness.

  Down, boy. It's going to be a while before you get any action from this shy girl. Enjoy the kiss and don't push her.

  Russ teased Riley's tongue with his, plunging into her mouth and retreating, urging her to follow. At last, she made a tentative advance, slipping past his lips. He rewarded her with a lush twirling and tangling that left her gasping. Then he released her from his embrace and helped her to her feet.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She studied him, a question lingering in her eyes.

  “What is it, Riley?”

  “Why did you stop?” The question turned to worry. Though Russ never tried to read anyone's mind, her thoughts were so loud he couldn't prevent them from reaching him. Did I do it wrong? Why can't I do anything right? Why am I such a baby?

  He stepped back to her, right up against her body and cupped her face in his hand, his palm on her jaw, fingers lacing into the back of her hair. His lips caressed hers once more, gently and without any probing. “I don't want to push you,” he said. “I know… I can tell you haven't done a whole lot of this before, and you've taken in a lot today. I thought you might want to take things a bit slowly.”

  He wrapped his free arm around her waist and urged her head onto his upper chest. She doesn't even reach my shoulder.

  “Oh,” she replied, snuggling closer. “I don't know whether I want to go slowly or not. I've never been in this kind of situation. Would you think less of me if I didn't?”

  Her words made no sense when added to everything he knew about her, but they tasted sincere.

  “Riley, listen.” He arched his hips, pressing the rigid length of his erection into her belly. Even through his clothes and hers the contact caused a wave of pleasure to swell over him. “I want you. I'm not holding back because I have doubts. My bear…. Well, if he had his way, I'd be mating you on the rug right now. He's begging for it.” And I know things about us you're not ready to hear. Things that just might explain why you're so eager.

  She pulled back a step and lifted her eyes to his. Passion, curiosity and a hint of fear swirled in the whiskey-colored depths, raising the already intoxicating effect of her gaze to nearly irresistible. Her cheeks had turned pink, but not a fiery, embarrassed red. Instead the soft glow clearly had been generated by her own passion and desire. His body ached to claim her. With every second he could see the image more clearly, of Riley on hands and knees on the bearskin before the fire, receiving his thick, swollen sex. He stepped back, breaking the spell.

  “Decide,” he urged. “You have to think about what you want, Riley. I don't want you to have any regrets. Let's make some food. It will give you a chance to work through it. If you want me, you'll have to tell me you do, not that you aren't sure.”

  She slipped her fingers into his. “You don't ask much, do you?” she quipped. “Make the shy girl ask her…” she blinked and a look of awe spread over her face, “her boyfriend to make love to her.” The words, it seemed, tasted as sweet as maple candy. Russ brushed her hair back from her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You know what I want,” she added.

  I do. I can smell your desire so strongly, I can almost taste it. Your body is ready, but I need to be sure of your mind. “In this world, in this age, love, a man has to hear the words. Assuming anything can lead to trouble.”

  She acknowledged the truth of his statement by casting her eyes downward and studying the grain of the wood floor.

  Russ hugged her for another moment and then released her, heading into his kitchen, which was only separated from the rest of the room by a pine and black granite peninsula. He rummaged in the cabinets and brought to light an enormous frying pan, which he set on one of his stove's six burners.

  He dribbled oil into the pan and then turned to the refrigerator.

  “This is a nice kitchen,” Riley commented. “Much prettier than mine. Do you cook a lot, Russ?”

  “I do,” he replied. “Since there's only one restaurant in Golden and I don't fly to Fairbanks but about once a month, I eat at home most of the time.” Retrieving a foil-wrapped packet, he began to open the crimped metal. “Can you peel some potatoes, please? There's a pot in the cabinet in front of you. Peeler in the drawer above the cabinet.”

  “Sure thing,” Riley agreed cheerfully. “So what are we having?”

  “Venison steaks and mashed potatoes,” he replied. “Do you like venison? You're not a vegetarian, are you?”

  “Not at all,” Riley replied. “I've never tried venison. Are you a big hunter then?” He could hear her banging pots and pans as she spoke. The drawer slammed.

  “Yes, that I will admit to. Like most bears, I'm happy to eat whatever comes to me, but I have a bit of an advantage for hunting. I don't ne
ed a permit.”

  “Because you're Native Alaskan?” she guessed. “You are, right?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Well half.”

  “And the other half?” she asked, conversationally. “I mean, is the bear thing related to being Native, or is it separate?”

  “Curious, aren't you?” he asked as he sprinkled sea salt on the upper sides of the raw meat.

  “Of course. Shouldn't I be?” she retorted. “You're my boyfriend, right? So I need to know things about you.”

  He wanted to hug her, but he had meat juice on his fingers, so he settled for a grin. “Promise you won't sell me to the zoo?” he quipped.

  “I don't think so,” she replied with a teasing smirk.

  “I just can't get over,” he added as he flipped the steaks and sprinkled seasoning on the bottoms. Now let them come to room temperature, “how easily you accepted this.”

  “I know, right?” Riley replied, slicing one potato and slipping it into a pot of water before turning to the next one. “Three okay?”

  “Better do five,” Russ replied. “I have a high metabolism.”

  “Okay.”

  “So…” he pondered how to start. “Let me tell you a story that was told to me when I was a youth.”

  At her nod, he continued.

  “In ancient times, long before humans walked across the ice to this place, the bears were kings and queens of this land. They played and hunted in the forests. One night, the bear goddess looked down from the sky – you know of the bear goddess, do you not?”

  She considered. “I know the constellation of Ursa Major.”

  “That's the one. Anyway, she and her cub came down to earth. While the star cub played with the other baby bears, the goddess found the biggest and strongest of the boar bears and took him as her lover. And in the winter, when the wind howled over the earth and the snow lay deep on the ground, she returned with three newborn cubs, which she left with a kind sow bear whose own cubs had died.”