by Selena Kitt
Yes! Maybe that meant no clothing at all!
Then she frowned, texting, Your birthday’s in March!
Yep.
It’s September. That’s as far from March as you can get. Are we operating off some kind of unique Ricardian calendar? Or is this like a belated thing? Or a birthday in advance because you know you’ll be away for the next one? And are you planning another of your surprises?
Hey, what happened to no questions? ;)
She grinned at his playfulness and put her work stuff away, determined to catch up on some of her TV watching to take her mind off fantasies about peeling thermal layers off him. Four episodes of Blue Bloods later, both her brain and TV set threatened to go into idle mode and she turned it off. She checked her phone before going to bed, and saw another message from Ric.
There might be a surprise. But I promise it’s the last.
A rush of fiercely cold air filled the plane cabin the moment the door was open and the ramp wheeled over. Annalesa threw herself out of her seat and her Crag Hopper fleece over her head in one motion, wishing she’d worn thick tights under her jeans, and maybe an extra sweatshirt. The little flight TV on the screen by her seat reported it was fifty degrees out, but for some reason the cold stabbed right through her.
“Sea air.” The steward grinned. “It’s the moisture that goes to your bones.”
“No kidding.”
Annalesa grabbed her little flight bag, glad Ric was providing all the climate clothing she’d need over the next few days. If she’d needed to get that much insulation into a suitcase, she wouldn’t have been able to lift the damn thing off the floor. Her dash to the flight office was made at undignified speed, and once she had all her papers checked over, she zipped out to the waiting Mercedes, glad to clamber into the warmth of the back seat.
She dozed off in the car, only waking as the Mercedes crawled through the city center. She straightened up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, squinting a little as the bright, low sun reflected off the windows of the pointed wooden buildings lining the wharf.
They were painted in varied but still-complementary shades of yellow, dark orange and even off-pink, but strangely, none of the buildings seemed to clash with their neighbors. Even the surface of the harbor water seemed orange in the peaks of the little waves, bright against the black of the troughs.
The cold didn’t stop people gathering at tables outside cafes and restaurants and the whole town seemed to have a vibe of peaceful friendliness. The car wound through to an exit road, which turned into the empty 585 leading to Kristiansholm.
The driver pulled left off the main road and a moment later stopped at the front of a broad, three-story building with parking space for at least five cars. The door was opened for her before she even reached for the handle and she climbed out to find Henrik looming over her.
“Hi!” She smiled, offering him her hand. He shook it a little timidly and gestured towards the house.
“Mr. Ryker want me take to your room.” Henrik’s broken English made her smile. “He washing up. Will join soon.”
She stifled a giggle as he marched ahead, as formal as ever. Her room was on the top floor, a beautiful suite of pale pine cladding and soft, navy blue furnishings. As with their home in Maine, her entire south-facing wall was a window that led out to a balcony. The room was bright with sun and she couldn’t resist going out onto the balcony to enjoy the orange and pink sky.
The sun reflected off her hands and she spread her fingers on the balcony rail, loving the look of the new French polish on her shorter, square-cut nails. She’d broken a couple in the early stages of her weight-training regime and had them all trimmed down to a more practical length. She’d grieved for her longer, oval beauties for all of a day—because the shorter versions made it a damn sight easier handling the Monet artifacts. And she no longer feared soda cans.
“Hey.”
She jumped at Ric’s voice and turned to see him standing a few feet back from the balcony doors, bare save for a tiny, low-tucked towel that barely reached halfway down his thighs. Water dripped from his wet hair down over his shoulders and chest, tickling over his hard abs and down between the prominent V of his hips.
He stepped forward into the light, his body instantly stained golden orange in the low-setting sun. Annalesa caught her breath and stepped back inside, closing the balcony door after her. Her throat felt dry.
“Hey yourself,” she murmured. “Someone’s looking relaxed.”
“Not really. Someone’s just dodged three bodyguards to sneak into your room.” He grinned and closed the gap between them with a couple of easy strides, sliding his arms around her waist and dropping his shoulders low to kiss her.
The kiss went straight between her legs, helped along by the huge arms pulling her against him.
She felt like he was drinking her. The tip of his tongue roamed over her tongue and palate, making her so wet, so fast, she just wanted him inside her.
She found herself breathless, sliding her hands up to the hooks of his shoulder blades to haul him down against her. His hands smoothed from her waist up to the back of her head, kneading into her scalp, then he gently pulled back from the kiss.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
His voice was like a hot-wire buzz against her ear. She cleared her throat. “Well... I’m here now.”
“Don’t get pissed at me.”
She leaned back, wary. “And... what might I be getting pissed about?”
“We’re on the move in a few minutes. Bergen was just a meet-up stop before moving north.”
She tried to restrain her grimace. Still, if he meant Trondheim, at least that was only an hour and a half, at most, by plane. “Have you got work stuff to handle before our break?”
“No, no work stuff. I’m all yours. And not Trondheim, either. We’re going a little further north than that.” Ric winked and took her by the hand, tugging her over to the closet behind the double bed. “Go on, open up.”
She did, staring in shock at the array of very warm, but very tiny thermal long-sleeved tops hanging up on the racks. “Ric, I’m a size ten—sorry, that’s a six, to you—I’ve not slimmed down to scaffold-pole sizes just yet.”
“They stretch, Leesa.” He chuckled, and the feel of his breath was warm on the back of her neck. “And since when have I ever been attracted to scaffold poles?”
“I don’t know. You were away for years. You could’ve developed strange kinks.”
“Want some help shoving them in a suitcase?”
“No, I want your help taking my current clothing off and shoving something else in....” She turned, keeping his gaze as she peeled her tailored navy V-neck up her body and over the top of her head. She tossed it onto the bed, sliding her hands down his back, over the towel and down to his thighs. He groaned just slightly as she pulled him against her, slipping her hands back up beneath the towel, pulling their bodies together until his semi-hard erection pressed against her belly.
“It’s a private plane, right? Up to you when we take off?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Ric... I haven’t seen you in weeks. I want you.” It was fun, looking up into his eyes and seeing them widen, glistening at her as she slid her fingertips up the backs of his thighs.
Giving him something more to think about, she released her grip on him and peeled off her bra, then unbuttoned her jeans, pressing them down to her ankles and stepping out of them.
She stretched her hands up to his shoulders, letting him see her whole body in its new, nimble, toned form. Her hands slipped around to the back of his neck and she pulled his ear down to her lips.
“Please tell me you like what you see.”
“I do. I do. Christ...” Ric panted into her hair, his chest moving a little faster as she released a hand from his neck to cup him beneath the towel. “Leesa, I really like what I see.”
“So....?”
“So... I’ve always loved what I’ve seen.” He kisse
d the side of her neck. “You look stunning, girl—and I really mean that—but you always blew me away.”
She beamed at him.
“But you know, there are lots of pretty girls in the world. It’s this... up here...” He tapped her forehead. “And here…” He tapped her heart. “That makes me mad for you.”
“Well, that’s it, now you’ve done it.” Annalesa arched against him. “Now I just want to fuck your brains out.”
He groaned when she rubbed her breasts against him, feeling her nipples harden deliciously.
“Come on—just a quickie?”
“Evil temptress.” A brief, surprised grin flickered across his face. “We really should get moving. You’ll need your energy.”
“And you’ll need yours.” She arched backwards, hooking her foot around the back of his knee and grinding her hips against his cock. “You really want fly with blue balls?”
“Oh, fuck...” Ric jerked forwards, wrapping his arms around the small of her back and swinging her onto the bed. “You want fast?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay, here’s fast.” Ric snagged his towel off, then her panties, and Annalesa groaned in bliss as the head of his cock fell heavily on her clit.
“Feel me,” she told him.
“You wet?”
“Find out.” The warm-filling stretch made her toss her head back on the bed, needing more. “Fuck me, Ric. Please!”
His breath was hot and heavy against her face. “Can’t promise I can hold out long.”
She bit her lip as he pressed deep inside, tenderly, slowly bruising her with his girth. His hands closed round her wrists, spreading her arms high and wide above her head. She felt him flex hard inside her, close to the edge, and then he started pounding, grinding low with each thrust to nudge her clit.
Annalesa gave into the loving assault as he fucked her hard, each hip-butt sending her a few inches higher to heaven. She tilted her head way back, baring her neck to him as he filled her, and just as she didn’t think she could handle much more sensation, he drew the tip of his tongue up the side of her neck and dragged her earlobe between his teeth.
She came in a surge, no longer able to hold back, seizing up around his huge cock. His body jerked above hers, hands crushing her into the mattress as his hips slammed against hers over and over until his cock stopped flexing, deep inside.
Her knees were still twitching minutes later as he peeled himself free, brushing a light kiss over her lips.
He chuckled softly. “You done distracting me?”
“For the time being, yes.” Annalesa lifted her head from the bed, feeling weak but extremely happy. “Where are we going?”
“North. Very, very far north. Think Santa Claus, then think of Santa Claus whining about the cold up there. North.”
She grinned. “Are you taking me to see the Aurora Borealis?”
“If we’re lucky.”
“Okay, I’m getting up.” She rolled onto her side but post-coital exhaustion seemed to have kicked in. “Really, I’m getting up, but I may need a hand.”
Chapter 14
The Chinook helicopter was unbelievably loud. It was warm enough that they’d been able to ditch the thick, quilted waterproof jackets, but she wouldn’t have complained if the deaf fairy paid her a visit and took her hearing out for a couple hours.
Two hours into the five-hour flight, Annalesa took her headset off and stuffed cotton wool from her make-up case into her ears before replacing the ear-muffs again. She smiled up at Ric as he tilted his head in query. She heard nothing of his voice, but could lip-read him just fine. “I’m okay!”
Ric gave her a delighted grin and stretched his arm across the top of the bench seat at the rear of the chopper. She could feel the heat of his body even through their matching navy thermal tops. Ric’s clung to him like a second skin and with Henrik sitting further down, she didn’t want to get caught eyeing Ric’s body too often. She nestled against his side as she peered out the window.
Their flightpath took them along the almost vertical west coast of Norway, over Nesna and Bodø, and in a little while, they’d have Tromsø behind them, too. From their height, the coastline was a green lightning bolt against a blue cloth.
Towns stood out as blocks of white and grey, and the further north they went, the more the wilderness prevailed in the landscape. She felt a nudge and turned to see Ric unfolding a map for her. She held one side as he pointed at a little dot at the bottom of a pointy landmass in the northernmost county—Finnmark. The dot said ‘Kunes’.
He tapped a spot a few millimeters further up, and she looked up into his face.
“We’re landing there,” he enunciated. “That’s why we have the Chinook. Otherwise, we’d have to take the Gulfstream into Honningsvåg, and then travel south.”
She nodded her understanding and relief. With the outside temperature dropping to forty degrees, the idea of changing onto a smaller aircraft or boat to go across to the uninhabited landmass didn’t appeal.
“Where are we staying?” she yelled back.
“Not a hotel!”
She rolled her eyes and pointed at the huge Bergen crammed with hiking gear. “I didn’t think we were staying at a hotel!”
“What?”
Annalesa scribbled her reply in the white border of the map, and they entertained themselves for the next hour as she tried to remember finger-spelling, then teach him. He was a quick study and they were almost able to have a conversation until Henrik carried some coffees to the back of the chopper, making their two-handed communication impossible. Ric then taught her American finger-spelling, which was one-handed.
She glared at him after he’d shown her the fifth letter. “Why didn’t you show me this earlier?”
He gave her a huge remorseless grin. “It was fun watching you trying to remember your own version.”
While they talked, Henrik kept his nose stuck in a copy of a John Grisham novel, translated into Norwegian. Annalesa smiled at him every now and again and tried to draw him into conversation when he took the occasional break from reading, but the guy seemed to have taken a vow of shyness. She reminded herself to ask Ric about him later. It was curious that Henrik always seemed to be his right-hand guy whenever Arensen wasn’t around, even though he and Ric never struck her as being particularly friendly towards each other.
The sun was setting by the time they started losing height and closed in on the eastern side of the uninhabited lands north of Kunes. The Chinook landed in a broad clearing in a densely wooded part of a valley. Annalesa, Ric and Henrik climbed out, the guys carrying all the survival gear between them. They retreated a couple hundred yards into the pines as the Chinook took off again. The low branches on the conifers provided a good wind-break and they found some relatively dry ground to set up ‘base camp’.
Dinner was quiet. They all ate canned pea soup with roasted bratwurst sliced into it. Then Henrik set up his tent a little distance away from them and went to bed early.
Annalesa spent a wonderful, warm half hour sitting back against Ric as night fell and the fire went down. Then they climbed into their two-man tent and went to sleep. She drifted off, snug in her sleeping bag, the weight of Ric’s arm around her making her feel safe.
“You ready to go?” Ric helped Annalesa to her feet once she’d finished cleaning up the breakfast things and held her hand to help her balance over the log they’d been using as a seat. He bent down to shake Henrik’s hand as the guy put his axe down and handed over a bundle of kindling. “This is for us to take with us?”
Henrik nodded.
“Thanks, man. Appreciate it. See you in a couple of days.”
Annalesa gave Henrik a quick, awkward hug of thanks for manning the base camp, feeling bad they were leaving him alone for so long in the middle of nowhere. As she and Ric pressed through the woods back to the coastal path, she couldn’t help looking over her shoulder a few times to see what Henrik was doing. At her last glance, he was hacking low bra
nches from the outer-lying trees and taking them back to his log to chop.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Ric laughed. “He’s not going to get eaten by a bear, you know. No bear would dare. If there were any up here—which there aren’t.”
“I don’t mean that. Won’t he get lonely?”
“Would it make you feel any better if I told you that he practically bribed me to let him come with us?”
“Wow.” Annalesa shrugged, figuring Henrik must be one of those strong, silent outdoor types. “Yeah, that does make me feel better. Maybe I’m just projecting. I’m not sure I could cope with two days alone in the wilderness.”
Ric took her hand as they picked their way over a clearing, bumpy and slippery with moss. “It’s an escape for him. I don’t know him very well, but I know he struggles with his family. It’s a religious thing. His mother’s a liberal Norwegian, and his father’s a German ex-pat who’s a devoted follower of the Evangelical Lutheran Free Church. Pretty much disapproves of anything that moves.”
“Ah.” She took long strides across the last few heaps of moss and joined Ric on a stone path. “Is Henrik gay?”
“I have no idea.” Ric chuckled. “He’s so neutral... I wonder if he even has glands.”
“I thought he was a little scared of girls, but he’s not that talkative with guys, either.”
“Yeah, but maybe that’s just less noticeable among guys.” Ric winked as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “We’re a little better at the whole comfortable-silence thing.”
“Is this your way of telling me I talk too much?”
Ric burst out laughing. “Guys are also way better at not finding dark messages in innocent statements.”
“You’ve been hanging around Anders Arensen too long.” Annalesa raised a brow at him, but kept her tone playful. “He seems to regard women as an unnecessary part of the landscape.”
“Except for making coffee and reproduction. I know. Don’t worry, that part of him’s not rubbing off on me. I don’t... I don’t agree with him about everything.”
