Hero Bear
Page 3
I continued swimming farther out, letting the cool water sooth my raging bear. He dove under and swam a lap before coming back up to bob in place. Kerrigan’s scent was still clinging, burned into our brains. The sweet aroma of her arousal had been wafting out of her room for hours, but getting smacked in the face with it while being inches away from her was something completely different.
My bear wanted to drag her into our room and devour her, savor every morsel of her sweetness, pleasure her in every way imaginable. He wanted to make her ours.
And, it wasn’t just my bear wanting those things. I had the same thoughts. After the physical contact of catching her from falling, they intensified. Touching her bare skin had been an electric shock of awareness. She’d felt it, too. I’d seen her skin flush, heard her heartrate increase and scented her arousal. I’d watched in fascination as her tongue flick out over her pink lips.
And now she was headed to a bar. Where people would see her. In a dress that exposed her bare back and accentuated her slender, waiflike figure. The slight swell of her breasts were there, for any man to see.
My bear tossed his head back and let out a wild roar. He didn’t want anyone else looking at her silky skin.
Still, I stayed in the water. I was in control of my desires, mostly, and I wouldn’t just cave to them when it came to Kerrigan. She was innocent. I was sure of that. I could feel it, her purity, her naivete. She was untouched and, and I damned sure wasn’t the man to waste herself on.
On the other hand, someone could touch her. A man. The thought of another man touching her was enough to spike my blood pressure to a boiling rage. So much for being in control. Before I could stop myself, I was racing back to the shore. I shifted and dressed, still dripping wet.
Mimi’s Cabana wasn’t too far. Running, I made it there in under five minutes. I barely managed to refrain from bursting in and letting a roar rip from my throat as a warning to every swinging richard in the place to stay the fuck away from my Kerrigan. But I did manage to refrain. Instead, I paused at the front door and took a few deep breaths before calmly opening the door and glancing around.
Kerrigan was at the bar with Hannah and Megan on either side of her, sipping a frozen margarita. She reached up and tucked her long, black, silky hair behind her ears. It was the first time I’d seen it down. Like she could sense me, her eyes moved directly to me and her mouth formed a little O of surprise.
Time seemed to stand still as we stared at one another. What now? I didn’t want to interrupt her girl’s night, and I certainly didn’t want to start something with Kerrigan that I couldn’t finish. Fuck, I needed to leave her alone. I stepped backwards, back out of the bar, and headed to the office. I had no business thinking of her, let alone acting on any of those thoughts. She didn’t belong to me, and a good thing, too. I’d ruin her.
I made myself go back to my room and stay there. It wasn’t easy, but I had to. I was neither a good man nor a safe man—not for a woman like Kerrigan. There was nothing about me that suited a gentle woman like Kerrigan.
I stripped and climbed into bed. I wasn’t tired. I figured I’d lie there and listen to the ocean until Kerrigan got close enough to the house that I could tune into her.
A few hours passed before she came back home. She went straight to her bedroom and I listened as her dress hit the floor and her mattress springs squeaked faintly as she crawled into bed. Within minutes, she was asleep.
It soothed me to know she was so close and no longer sleeping in her car, but it didn’t stop me from being concerned about her safety. I listened to her steady breathing and found myself nodding off a little bit later. I woke a few hours later to the sound of Kerrigan talking in her sleep. It was the whisper of my name on her lips that had me sit up straight in bed. In her dreams she was murmuring my name—breathless and strained. I pictured her neck muscles stretched taut, her head thrown back and her spine arched as the dream took her. My name.
Sweet Kerrigan was having a dream about me. From the sound of it, it was a good dream. I paced the room, fists balled at my sides. I wanted to go to her, but that was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Terrible.
I had to cool off. The sounds were louder to my sensitive ears in the hallway, but I made it down the stairs and outside in less than a minute. Jogging down the beach and into the water, I swam far out into the sea hoping to cool off and calm down enough to get a few more hours sleep.
It took forever to regain control and by the time the sun rose, I was exhausted. I felt like I’d been whipped and beaten then drawn and quartered. It was all I could do to make it to work. Fortunately, it was Saturday and Kerrigan was off. I was hoping I could hide out in the back office and catch up on some Z’s. No such luck.
A call came in about a hostage situation involving a shifter in Miami. A little out of our way, but right up our alley. Despite each and every man on our team being a deadly and highly trained operative, we each had our own unique skill set. Terminations were mine. I was a crack shot and skilled at virtually any weapon, but I was best at hand to hand. I was the assassin.
So, when a particularly out of control alligator shifter was rampaging and threatening the lives of a woman and her children, I did what I had to do. I didn’t love it. But it was a necessary evil. Taking out shifters who were threatening and posing a deadly risk to humans sometimes included an odd twist. After the fact, the victims sometimes looked at you as though you were the villain.
The alligator shifter had been seconds from snapping her young son’s neck, but she was screaming mad that I’d killed the fucker. It didn’t take much to deduce that mom was high on something and that, whatever it was, he had been her supplier. Hell, maybe she did love him. What did I know about love? I just knew my job. And I’d done it. I’d neutralized the threat and saved the kid’s life.
It didn’t matter to Mom, though. She screamed and wailed and called me a heartless monster. According to her, there was a special place in hell for me. I didn’t doubt that.
Her screeching could be heard over her child’s sobs and continued on even after the police arrived to clean up the messy scene.
The ride back to the island was quiet. No one wanted to talk about what had just gone down. None of us had the stomach for small talk.
Kerrigan was on my mind more than ever. I kept seeing her shy features transposed onto that woman’s screaming face. Surely, Kerrigan would have been appalled if she knew what I’d just done. I pictured Kerrigan with a horrified expression—crying and screaming. Telling me to get away from her, telling me there was a special place in hell for me. There was an ugly side to our job that none of us loved, or wanted to rehash. We did what had to be done.
Feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, I chose not to go back to the office. I was in no mood to plaster a fake smile on and hang with the guys. Despite knowing it probably wasn’t the best choice, I went home. Not to see Kerrigan, or so I told myself. She probably wouldn’t even be home. I’d just close myself in my room and forget everything.
In truth, deep down, I hoped she was home.
7
Kerrigan
I’d quickly decided that Saturdays in the P.O.L.A.R. house were my favorite. I was off on Saturdays but the guys usually went in to the office, and Hannah along with them. So, I could just hang out and spend lazy alone time without worrying about bumping into anyone who was ticked at me or disappointed in my job performance. I spent the morning at the dining room table, writing until my hand cramped. Then, I watched an episode of Iron Chef in the living room before making a bologna sandwich for lunch and retreating to my room. I was just finishing my sandwich and thinking about going out for a swim when I heard the door slam downstairs.
I knew who it was because the hair on the back of my neck instantly stood on end. Dmitry. I hadn’t seen him since the night before when he’d appeared in the bar, took one long look at me, and then turned and fled. Probably didn’t like what he saw, and decided to drink elsewhere.
Dmitry hurried up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. Just that quick glimpse of him made my pulse race. His face had been drawn and his expression even darker than usual. It wasn’t my business. I should have just closed my door and let it go.
The image of his haunted face was too much, though. It touched me to the core. My feet felt like lead as I dragged myself across the hallway pausing just outside of his door. I was being an idiot. He didn’t need to be comforted by me, no matter what was bothering him. He probably wanted to be left alone.
Still, I lifted my arm and gently tapped on his door. When it swung open a few seconds later, I gasped. He stood tall but something about him looked…broken. “Dmitry? Are you okay?”
I’d been expecting him to slam the door in my face or ignore me or give me a dirty look and tell me to get lost. I was no one to him. Just the incompetent, nerdy dispatcher who was a living anti-nepotism argument. I couldn’t blame him for not liking me. Instead, he shocked the hell out of me when he reached out and snatched me into his arms.
He hugged me against his chest and in the split second before his mouth claimed mine, I took every sensation in—his muscled abs against my worn t-shirt, his smoky, fresh scent seducing me with every inhale, his blonde hair begging for my fingers to comb through it.
With my hands and arms trapped between us, palms flat against his rock hard chest, and my thighs pressed against the thick canvas of his cargo pants, it was enough to fill pages and pages in my notebook.
Then, his kiss was on my lips. Hard and urgent, Dmitry devoured me like we were on a sinking ship and this kiss was the only lifeline. He kissed me with a fierceness that was almost rough. His hands on my waist were hard and punishing, his fingertips digging into my flesh, the shadow of his beard leaving a friction burn. I loved it!
His actions had caught me so off guard that it had taken me a second to realize he was kissing me. Before I could really get into it and kiss him back, he lifted me and spun us so my back was pressed against his door. His hands caught my ass and squeezed as he kissed me harder. I gasped and my libido kicked into overdrive. Yes! Forget the rules—all of them.
I held on to his shoulders as his tongue explored my mouth. He tasted like sunshine. I moaned into his mouth as our tongues tangled. He was demanding, controlling, and almost panicked in his intensity. There was no hiding how much he wanted me. He rocked the proof into my core.
He tilted his head and kissed me deeper, stroking his tongue against mine, creating a dance that fueled every nerve ending of desire I possessed. My head was flooded with the feeling of him against me. My dreams had barely scratched the surface of what this really felt like. His body was hard and hot against mine. The smell, the taste of him, I was reeling with pleasure.
I didn’t realize we’d moved until I felt his fingers at the top of my waistband. We were on his bed, with me straddling him. My knees rested on the plaid blanket of his perfectly made, and he was nipping and sucking kisses down my throat. It never crossed my mind that we should slow down. Or stop to think. We were both consenting adults. As far as I was concerned, full speed ahead.
I ran my fingers through his short blonde hair and held onto his head while he sucked on my collar bone. His teeth were rough, but they felt like they were nibbling away the tension I’d been holding. Like a drug, I wanted more.
Dmitry slid his hand into my panties and his long, thick finger stroked over my folds. He growled before he captured my mouth again, kissing, devouring, reddening my face with the faint stubble of his beard. Both of us were breathing raggedly as I held myself up on my knees and locked my arms around his neck.
His finger continued to stroke me, parting my folds. I was in heaven. With his other arm bracing me behind my back, he slid his finger into me, filling me. He swallowed my moans and held me tighter as I trembled against him, the sensation so amazing that I couldn’t hold off an orgasm if I wanted to. My body felt as though I’d collapse at any second but he didn’t stop. Holding me, peppering kisses all over my face and neck and chest, he pumped his finger in and out of me, drawing another orgasm from me before I could even recover from the first.
I couldn’t hold on. I’d never felt someone else’s anything inside of me and Dmitry was hitting me in all the right places. His fingers were thick and long and rough. He was not gentle and something about that pushed me straight over the edge. He pinched my nipples with his teeth as my hips worked against his hand, his palm grinding against my clit.
The third orgasm started fast and hit me like a tidal wave. I held tightly to Dmitry and bit down on his lip while his fingers continued to piston within my tightening walls. Shaking, hips bucking, the only thing that kept me from flying off of his lap was his arm locked firmly around me.
My head snapped back and I screamed out his name as my climax hit. I tasted his blood on my tongue and I should’ve been more concerned about that, but I was flying high. Dmitry’s lips were on my throat, still. His fingers still filled me, his palm still rested against my sweet spot.
I had never felt so amazing in all my life. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work just yet. My heart slammed against my rib cage, my pulse fluttered at the base of my throat, near Dmitry’s mouth. Everything felt surreal, like I’d floated into another dimension—someplace where everything was a party with rainbows and unicorns.
Reality always had a way of crashing the party, though.
Dmitry pulled his hand away suddenly and set me on unsteady feet, a foot away from him. Not meeting my eyes, he gestured towards his door. “Go on.”
I didn’t understand, so I just stood there like an idiot.
He turned away from me and fiddled with something on top of his dresser. “Go on back to your room, Kerrigan. I’m so sorry.”
My stupid, fluttering heart that had been soaring the stratosphere suddenly crash landed at my feet. I think I kicked it as I turned and rushed out of his room. By the time I was safely shut away behind my bedroom door, I was crying big, fat tears. They rolled down my cheeks and dripped off my chin. I sat on my bed staring at the door hoping he’d been joking and was going to come rushing in at any second, sweep into his arms, and carry me back to his bed. Instead, his door shut with a loud slam. I flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
I had no clue what had just happened. Had I done something wrong? My body was still floating on air from the first and only orgasm given to me by someone other than myself. My body clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that shortly thereafter, I’d been curtly dismissed. Not even dismissed. Kicked out. With an apology to as though the whole thing was an accident.
I choked back a sob and dragged a pillow over my face. I felt devastated. Humiliated.
The more I racked my brain, the more confused I felt. I knew anger would come eventually and I welcomed it. It was far easier to deal with than humiliation.
8
Dmitry
I’d behaved unforgivably. After kicking Kerrigan out of my room, I spent the rest of the weekend locked inside, berating myself, ashamed of what I’d done to her and how I’d done it. Well, I was sorry for how rough I’d been. I couldn’t deny that every time I closed my eyes, I pictured her lithe body and her soft moans of pleasure. It was torture. The memories of her crying out my name at the height of ecstasy played through my head like a porno on a loop. I knew it had been wrong, though—all wrong.
She deserved better. She was high-strung and fragile, easily reduced to tears. I’d been rough and then kicked her out. Worse, I’d heard her crying and smelled her tears. I knew she was upset and I wanted to go to her and comfort her, but anything I might do or say would only make the situation worse. I didn’t know how to comfort someone—anyone. For someone like Kerrigan, I was a problem not a solution.
My bear had nearly ripped me to shreds trying to claim her the first time, the woman he was referring to as his mate. I supposed she was. She had to be based on the feelings I was having for her. But it wasn’t fair to her to act on such things. Fate was cruel to pair me with Kerrigan. She deserved so much better. So, while my bear demanded his mate, I refused to allow it.
Instead, I avoided her. It was hell, but it was necessary. I waited until she was asleep and I had no chance of an accidental encounter before I snuck out to eat and swim. Like a complete coward, I even climbed out of my window to go to the office and to use the bathroom. I wasn’t proud but it had to be done. I kept picturing her sorrowful, tear-stained face and that gave me impetus to continue to avoid her.
It was almost laughable that I, a polar bear—the largest, fiercest, most dangerous bear in existence, was spinelessly shaking in his fur at the thought of facing a tiny, 100-lb woman.
By sheer coincidence, I’d also ended up avoiding the rest of the P.O.L.A.R. unit. When Monday morning finally rolled around, I wondered if the team would know what a monster I’d been. Maybe Kerrigan had spilled to Hannah and Hannah in turn to Serge who told the rest of the unit. Maybe Kerrigan hated me. It would make everything easier if she hated me.
As I stepped into the office that morning, and the guys treated me as always, no questioning looks or smartass remarks, though, I knew she hadn’t told a soul. But Kerrigan’s desk was empty. I stared at it for a few seconds too long, when Serge came in and caught me.