Bear Naked (Midnight Liaisons)

by Sims, Jessica

  And I would be, if Leif was truly actually on Half Moon Island. What I remembered of Leif was vague, but I recalled that he was a kind, dreamy boy. I remembered he’d loved to sculpt figures in wood. I still had one of those tiny figures he’d given to me. It was tucked into my bag at the moment. He was an artist. Polite. Friendly.

  Which was ironic, because I was cranky, ballsy, and stubborn. I figured if I met him here, I’d be the one that got my way.

  And if I didn’t, well, I had a nice, long solo vacation…and a bullet vibrator.

  I sighed, staring out at the lonely island. If he wasn’t out there? It was going to be a long, long heat cycle.

  By the end of the next afternoon, I was on the shore of Half Moon Island, waving goodbye to Mikkel as the ship pulled away. The small inflatable raft I’d used to get to the shore was temporarily parked on the beach, and Mikkel had instructed me to hide it at the abandoned base so no ships passing through the area would see and think the place was inhabited.

  If someone did stop in, I had plenty of camera equipment, forged permits from Mikkel that showed I worked for him, and a cover story that I was filming a documentary on chinstrap penguins that inhabited this island.

  As I watched the ship pull away, I rubbed my nose. With my shifter sense of smell, I was already trying to pick up the scent of another bear. Unfortunately, all I smelled was penguin and penguin shit. It’d take a few days for my nose to adjust to the ‘common’ scents.

  When Mikkel raised a hand to wave, I returned it until I could no longer see him.

  Then, I was entirely alone on a remote Antarctic island. Yeah. I grabbed the hauling rope on the front of my raft and began to drag it inland.

  Half Moon Island was pretty. Pretty bleak, that was. There were weird tufts of dried-looking grass stuck between rocks, and there was snow. Lots, and lots of snow. But other than that, it was vast, silent, and empty. There was no sound but the wind and the distant caws of penguins. The beaches were rocky and cold, and I could smell no other inhabitants. I lifted my face to the wind as I walked and circled the island twice, but there were no signs of anything other than an army of chinstrap penguins. There were three long buildings, but I avoided them. I didn’t want the smells of other humans contaminating my nostrils, not when I was trying to find the delicate scent of one particular shifter.

  That, and where there were buildings, there was also the possibility of someone showing up to check out those buildings.

  So I set up my small tent on a sheltered inlet, between a few large rocks that would protect me from most of the wind and out of sight of the bay. The ground was hard and unforgiving, but I unrolled a small mat for under my sleeping bag. It’d have to do.

  I’d been camping dozens of times as a small girl surrounded by a horde of brothers and cousins. I knew how to build a fire and fish, and set up a tent. I wasn’t afraid of being out here on my own.

  I was terrified I wouldn’t find what I was looking for. That thought scared me more than anything.

  The air was incredibly dry, and my face felt chapped by the end of the first night. The weather was bitterly cold, but as a were-bear, I was more tolerant to the weather than most shifters, and with a heavy jacket on, it wasn’t so bad. I spent my first evening on the island bundled in my tent with my camping blankets tucked around me, an electric lantern set up in the corner as I checked and rechecked the camera equipment I’d brought for my cover story.

  Morning came soon enough, and I bounded from my chilly bed and did a quick circle of the island, sniffing for hints of unfamiliar were-bear.

  All I smelled were penguins, more penguins, and my own familiar scent.

  I was disappointed, but I wouldn’t let it bring me down. I had plenty of time.

  Three days passed without luck. Three long, miserable days. If Leif was here, he was acting like most natural bears did and avoiding human contact. My smell - despite the were-bear scent of it - would stink of unknown predator, and he was probably avoiding me.

  Time for a new tactic.

  I dug through my laundry, pulling out my dirty clothes. My panties were fragrant with my scent, thanks to the copious filthy dreams I’d been having (which hadn’t stopped now that I was in Antarctica, but had only grown stronger). Just pulling them out of my laundry bag made my small tent saturate with the smell of musky, needy sex. I flushed with embarrassment. God, was this what I smelled like to the other were-bears when I was in heat? That was…awful, and far too intimate. It was a good thing I was far away from everyone at the moment.

  I took my hunting knife and ripped the panties into shreds, sucked down my pride, and rubbed them on my groin one last time to get the scent nice and fresh. And then, I scattered the scraps around the island. “Come on, Hansel,” I said bitterly. “Come on and follow Gretel’s breadcrumbs.”

  The heat was coming on to me harder and faster with every passing day. If there had been uncertainty before as to whether I was truly going into heat, there was no doubt in my mind now. My breasts ached and I was sensitive to the slightest touches. Just a dirty thought could be incredibly arousing.

  If Leif was in the vicinity, he’d smell me and come to check it out. He’d have to. His hormones wouldn’t be able to resist.

  The weather was cold, but clear. I elected to sleep outside, just in case Leif could smell me and wanted to come check out the source for himself. I bundled up in my sleeping bag, stared at the bleak, chilly ocean, and waited in the darkness.

  Being all alone and on your own is exhausting, though, and I was unable to keep my eyes open. I fell asleep before an hour passed, lulled by the distant sounds of penguins and waves.

  My dreams were naughty and full of unfulfilled desire, as usual. It was formless, mindless need. Thanks to the sheltered life I’d led as the were-bear daughter of a bear-clan leader, I was a virgin. The bear clans were not the most forward-thinking of families and certain parts of our lifestyle dated back to, oh, the Middle Ages. Things like arranged marriages and keeping your legs together until your arranged marriage were a given. Anything else and – you guessed it – exile from everything and everyone you knew.

  I wasn’t entirely sure why I put up with it.

  I guessed because outside of the bear clan…I didn’t have much of anything. It was family, friends, and community all in one. No one left the bear clan.

  Well, Ramsey Bjorn did, but I hated him because he was the one that got me into this mess.

  I lay back in my sleeping bag and thought about Ramsey, my old betrothed. I supposed I could have been happy with him. My memories of him were vague, just of a tall, unsmiling blond man with shaggy hair and a stubborn streak a mile wide.

  Looking back, maybe it was for the best that he’d ended up shacking up with some wolf girl. We’d have probably killed each other within a year. I thought about my cousin Mikkel. Even now he was sailing on an extended photography shoot because he was avoiding his bride, Gerda. Gerda was as tall as she was wide, and clingy. Mikkel…wasn’t a fan.

  A rippling breeze dragged at my hair and I burrowed deeper into my sleeping bag, rethinking the wisdom of sleeping out in the open. It was cold. Normally, I just changed into my bear-form at night, because it was toasty-warm and the cold didn’t bother me too much. But changing into bear form also put the kibosh on sexiness and I needed to entice Leif here.

  If he was here at all.

  Maybe this was just a wild goose chase…wild bear chase…I closed my eyes and shook my head.

  While I had hope, I’d keep looking. And if I couldn’t find him…I’d just stay out here until my heat passed…and hope that it wasn’t my one and only shot to have children.

  I turned on my side and punched my camping pillow. “You’d better be worth this, Leif.”

  Chapter Two

  My dreams lately were all extremely dirty ones, and tonight’s dream was no different. Big hands, thick with claws and furred with hair, grabbed at my breasts. They pawed at my clothes, tugging them away from my body. I
moaned at the feel of those hands on my body and arched my back, offering my nipples. I wanted them sucked on, teased, stroked, petted. But those hands simply jerked at my clothes, and it didn’t seem quite as sexy as it normally did in my dreams. My pulse was pounding between my legs, and I could feel a heavy weight on top of my own.

  Yes, I thought. Yes, finally.

  Dream-Nikolina gave a throaty growl in her throat, and it was returned by the male that covered me. The male whose hands tore at my sleeping bag, shoving my ripped clothes down my legs. The male whose hands hadn’t even finished transforming from bear to human…

  I came awake with a start when the male flipped me onto my stomach so hard that it knocked the air out of my lungs.

  I shook my head to clear it, disoriented. It was dark, pitch dark, nothing but the endless stars above. The only sound was the thick, heavy rasp of breathing. Had I imagined it? Dreamed so hard that I woke myself up?

  A moment later, hands — barely hands, almost paws — dragged my hips backward, lifting them. I felt the prod of something hard and hot press against the junction of my thighs, felt claws digging into my hips.

  Oh, hell no.

  I bucked backward, hard, throwing the heavier weight of the male off of me. Panic flared through my body as I felt his cock shove against my backside, but it didn’t penetrate. I shoved harder, bucking him off.

  He rolled off of me with a grunt and scrambled for me, even as I scrambled in the other direction, rolling away. I could smell the scent of unwashed shifter, now, thick with the scent of ocean and penguin and wet fur mixed with the fainter human odors.

  Then he was on me again, his weight pressing on my back as he slammed me back to the ground. Again, I felt the thick bar of his erection and felt him try to pull my legs apart.

  “Hey! No!” I protested, firmly keeping my legs locked together even as the male tried to mount me. “Leif, no! Get the fuck off of me!”

  When there was no response to my entreaty, I rolled to my back and pushed at his chest with my hands. I barely caught a glimpse of wild beard and long, tangled hair before I flung him off of me.

  I might be a girl, but female bear shifters were strong. I wasn’t about to let him rape me just because he was lost in the moment.

  He scrambled back to his knees and his eyes glinted in the starlight. He hunched over a few feet away from me in the snow, just staring at me. His hands were still mostly bear paws, and his body seemed a too-muscled mix of fur and bear, more shifted than human.

  He was a mess.

  I clamped my legs together and dragged my torn sleeping bag over my now nearly-naked body. Great plan, genius. Got any other smooth moves up your sleeve? “Back off,” I warned him. My heart was pounding with fear, so loud that I was sure he’d be able to hear it and would decide that he could overtake me anyhow…and I wasn’t sure that he was wrong. “I want you to turn human – fully human – so we can talk about this.”

  He stared at me from a distance, and I could see his eyes were still feral, still trying to process what I was saying. It was like he didn’t understand me.

  It was like…he’d forgotten how to be human. He’d lost the human half of himself entirely.

  That was not good.

  “Leif,” I said, when he didn’t move. I gentled my voice. “Leif Ludvik. Do you remember me? It’s Nikolina Aasen. From the Aasen bear clan. You taught me how to ride my bike when I was eight.”

  He gave a feral grunt, and then leaned toward me again.

  “No,” I said firmly, and held the sleeping bag to my body tighter. “I’ll fight you if I have to. Don’t think I won’t.”

  But he stopped. He stopped, and he stared at me for a long moment, eyes glittering in the darkness.

  And then he turned and ran from my camp, on all fours, smoothly transforming back to bear form once more.

  I trembled with shock, watching him go.

  That had not gone how I’d wanted it to. Not at all. Shivering with more than just cold, I gathered the scraps of my sleeping bag and sleep-clothes and went back inside my tent, waiting to see if Leif would come back and attempt to force-mate me again.

  I slept with a knife in my hand, just in case he was beyond reason. I’d come seeking Leif because I didn’t want to be forced to have sex with the elderly, the married, or the related. I didn’t come here to be raped.

  But Leif didn’t come back.

  I put on two layers of pants and piled my torn sleeping bag over my body, and lay in my tent, alert, until dawn came. Still no Leif. Eventually, I slept, and my dreams were full of teeth and claws and men with long, wild beards.

  When I woke up the next morning, I was in a shitty mood. I hadn’t slept well, because I kept waking up every five minutes at the slightest noise.

  A penguin squawked? I woke up.

  A rock shifted in the distance? I woke up.

  The wind rustled? I woke up, imagining it was Leif coming back to attempt mating me again.

  Considering that I was alone with nature? I didn’t get much sleep, and I had Leif to thank for that. I didn’t want to be caught unawares again, especially if he’d gone totally feral.

  The last thing I wanted was to be raped by someone in bear form.

  I started a fire and boiled some water for coffee. I hadn’t brought much of the instant stuff with me, but I felt like today called for it. I was rattled, body and soul.

  I couldn’t deal with a man that didn’t even remember that he was human. I couldn’t. And with me going into heat, I was going to be more and more vulnerable to his attacks. Actually, at some point they wouldn’t even be attacks, because if I needed to mate, I’d welcome his attentions, no matter how rough.

  And they were rough, all right. I counted eight scratches across my breasts, one on my cheek, and three bruises on my stomach from when I’d been slammed into the ground. My hips ached, too. All in all, I hurt.

  More than that, I was pissed.

  Leif was a lost cause. He couldn’t even remember how to turn human anymore. I thought of his hands, still more bear than human, as they’d moved over my skin, trying to get me into position to mate. The gouges he’d left on my skin were from claws.

  I’d tried speaking to him, and gotten nothing in return.

  I’d have to head home. I had a satellite phone with me and could call Mikkel back from McMurdough. He’d come get me, and then we’d have to figure out something about my heat, somehow. There had to be a solution.

  It was obvious I couldn’t stay here.

  I began to roll up my torn sleeping bag while I waited for my coffee to brew, dashing frustrated tears from my cold-chapped cheeks. I wasn’t crying out of fear, but out of unhappiness. I’d pinned all of my hopes in the last month on finding Leif, who I’d remembered as quiet, gentle, and artistic. Sweet and loving and kind.

  That wasn’t the man I’d ran into last night. And I didn’t want to see that feral man-monster again. I’d just have to go home and figure out what to do, I told myself as I crammed my sleeping bag into a tattered roll. I’d talk with my dad, see what advice he could give.

  See who wants to take one for the team.

  I shuddered at the memory…and stopped.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it.

  I was stuck.

  I wanted my first time to be special. With someone that cared about me and I cared about. Someone that was devoted to me, not just servicing me for the clan’s sake. Someone who didn’t see me as a free lay just because the clan didn’t know what to do with me, but wanted to make sure the baby I had was were-bear.

  I hesitated…and unrolled my torn bag. I had to stay. I couldn’t give up on Leif this easily. Even if he frightened me, he’d been half human last night.

  I just needed to coax that half to the forefront.

  As if my thoughts could summon him to the forefront, I saw the massive bulk of a grizzly bear in the distance. It was heading toward my camp, loping forward through the snow.

  I stood, tightening my clothing
on my body. It was bitterly cold this morning, but the air was still and dry, with little to no breeze.

  As I watched, the bear approached until he got to about fifty feet away. Then, he crouched, stared at me for a long, long moment, and hunched over. Long, tangled brown hair sprouted from his thick neck ruff and I watched his body begin to shift to human.

  He was changing.

  Surprised, I averted my gaze to give him some privacy. Of all the things I expected to see this morning, this wasn’t it. After last night’s botched mating, I’d expected to have to coax him back out of hiding again.

  But here he was, approaching me. Trying to change to human.

  It was hard not to feel a bit of hope at that. Maybe this crazy idea would work after all.

  When I heard the sound of a footstep crunching on snow, I looked up at Leif again.

  He was standing, body erect, and staring down at his spread hands as if they were foreign to him. His fingers were still tipped with claws and furred, but that wasn’t surprising - fingers were always the last things to change and control. As I watched, he raised a hand to his face and touched it - and I noticed his nose was still rather snout-like.

  “You probably want to fix that,” I called out helpfully, and gestured at my own face.

  He looked over at me, startled, and closed his eyes, concentrating. I watched his skin ripple as he tried to control his shifting. It was clearly a strain for him - I could see a fine sweat on his naked, filthy body.

  And I couldn’t help but stare.

  Leif was really, really naked. And under all the dirt? Really handsome. I was surprised, though I don’t know why. I guess I’d expected him to be more world-weary and worn, but he was tanned and wiry, his muscles ropy and taut under his skin. If he was a little too skinny, I attributed it to his hard lifestyle of living as a wild animal. His face was covered with a bushy brown beard that jutted several inches from his jaw, and his hair hung in long, matted tangles down to his buttocks. His hips were slim and I averted my gaze when I noticed he had a rather thick - and erect - hard on. I focused instead on his eyes, bright blue in his darkly tanned face.