Wild Women of Alaska Collection

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “Don’t,” he said, his eyes dark and swirling with emotion that mirrored the storm banging outside the cabin. “Don’t touch me. I won’t last.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest at the intense, ruthless look in his eyes.

  This was really happening, and this time she wouldn’t be the only one who would remember. She wasn’t giving herself to the Erich Sloan who’d been burning up with fever and half out of his mind. He’d been sweet, gentle, and attentive. This man was none of those. He was demanding, rough. Savage.

  Sloan curled his fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants. “Lift.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows, lifted her hips off the table, and he whipped off her pants.

  “No panties?”

  “Never liked them,” she answered breathlessly. “Too restraining.”

  He growled. “Christ, woman. Every time you’ve flown in here—”

  “Yep, I fly commando.”

  Air escaped him in a groan that sounded painful, and he no longer seemed capable of words. His hand cupped her heat and went right for ignition, testing her wetness. Her head fell back on a moan as pleasure speared through her. He inserted one finger, pushing hard inside her, and cursed.

  “You’re too goddamn tight.”

  Sorry? Was she supposed to apologize for that? Didn’t men like women tight?

  He inserted another finger, stretching her. A cry of surprise escaped her as her muscles clenched tight around him. He cursed again and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock.

  “This might be—uncomfortable. I’ll make it right—I just can’t wait—”

  He thrust hard into her, and she gasped, her body arching off the table. His hands grabbed her hips and he forced her to stay still and take every inch of him. There was nothing tender, no sweet words, just his body driving unyieldingly into hers.

  The storm raging outside acted like a symphony of sound, pushing him to take her faster and harder, slapping his hips against hers, forcing her legs wider, doing exactly what she’d dared him to do.

  Take her hard and fast.

  Her heart pounded with excitement and fear. Pain and pleasure warred inside her, merging and mixing, as her body adjusted to his, until her body was no longer her own. The closest feeling she’d come to this was freefalling.

  She came apart, screaming his name as her climax slammed into her. A long low roar sounded from Sloan as he gave one harder, deeper thrust, grounding against her as his orgasm pulsed deep within her. His body arched, taut and tight, his head thrown back, the muscles tensed and bunched as though he’d just fought a battle. And won.

  His hair had come out of its band and the strands flowed untamed around him. Sweat glistened on his shoulders and his breath heaved in and out of his body.

  She’d just been taken, conquered by this wild man.

  Sloan lowered his head, and his eyes met hers, and then he smiled. It was the first time she’d ever seen him smile, and it didn’t bring about feelings of joy. If anything, it was a warning of what was to come next.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’ve had a constant craving for you that I haven’t been able to explain. I don’t know why I made you promise not to tell me, and right now, I don’t give a shit. But one thing is for certain. We’ve done this before.”

  “Not like that we haven’t.”

  The smile was back, predatory. Greedy. “I’ve fantasized about you for a long time, and until you’re rescued, I plan to fulfil each and every one of them.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  “Wait.” She braced her hands against his broad chest.

  “Why? You’re okay, right?” He looked at her with growing concern. “I was rough, but I know you came. No way in hell you could have faked that.”

  “No faking.” She didn’t even know if she could fake an orgasm convincingly enough, and hoped she never had to. “I just need…the bathroom.”

  His eyes widened as he realized why. “Oh fuck. Condoms, I didn’t—we didn’t—use protection.” He was suddenly very adorable in his panic.

  “I’m on the pill. Don’t worry.” She’d gotten on the pill after the last time they’d had unprotected sex. That was the longest wait she’d ever had for her period in her life and she never wanted to go through that again. “But, since you brought them up, there’s something I need to know. Why the big box of condoms you had me deliver? Who are you having sex with out here?”

  “No one. There’s no one. Jack was taken hostage and locked in a bathroom, and condoms were one of the items in the room with her. So I wanted to see how I could use them to help get her out.”

  “The nail polish remover, maxi pads, and Chanel perfume too?”

  “Yes and no. Nail polish remover is great for taking the itch out of mosquito bites and maxi pads should be in everyone’s first aid kit as they…well, you know.” He flushed.

  “So, you do you this a lot? Act out the scenes you write in your books?” It would explain his crazy-ass lists and how realistic his books were.

  He nodded. “Enough about that. We have other scenes to act out.” He gathered her up in his arms, still hard and deep inside her, and lifted her off the table. “Wrap your legs around me, and don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  And right there she melted, her heart back in the game. Damn it. She wanted this to just stay physical. But then he had to go and say something like that. Come on. This caring, sweet side of him was how she’d folded so fast the last time.

  Give it up, you folded faster this time.

  Yeah, and this time he would remember. Infinitely more dangerous. She had to be careful here so what happened last time didn’t happen this time.

  They made a quick trip to the bathroom, where Sloan wetted a washcloth. Instead of letting her care for herself he took time and pleasure—if the effects of his body were an indication—in the thoughtful and attentive treatment of her. Then he was lifting her back into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom where he laid her on the bed.

  The bed was huge, made of logs that Sloan had cut, carved, and fashioned together to create the queen-size bed. The mattress was a thick, soft, yet surprisingly supportive foam pad that she’d had a hell of time getting into her plane. That had been one delivery she’d never wanted to repeat. But lying on the sheets with him standing over her, his eyes traveling over every inch of her, she suddenly didn’t mind how much work it had been.

  Goosebumps rose on her skin as he trailed his fingers over her shoulder, brushing the curve of her breast as they traveled down her side, over her hip, to her knee where he scooped her calf into his hand and opened her for his gaze. She should feel a measure of shyness, but couldn’t, with how boldly and appreciatively he looked at her. There was something very powerful and pleasing with the way he obviously relished discovering her.

  “I remember this, the softness of your skin, the flare of your hips.” His eyes moved back up to meet hers. “The taste of you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as he knelt between her spread legs.

  Oh, God. He isn’t…

  His hands caressed slowly up her legs, and he lightly placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh. “I’ll get to the truth, Jesse. You will tell me.”

  Like she could speak with him between her legs, looking at her in a dark slumberous way that held nothing but wicked intent.

  Not breaking eye contact, he bent and licked her. One long, slow, wet lick that caused a keening moan to escape her. The sound surprised her, as she didn’t think she’d ever made that kind of noise before. Didn’t know she could.

  He gave her a satisfied smile, and she shivered. “You taste like a fine, tart wine, and I want to get drunk on you.”

  He lavished attention on her as though he had all the time in the world. So completely different than the man who’d ravished her on his kitchen table, Sloan was in no hurry, no matter how much she begged, pleaded, or downright demanded.

  It wasn’t until she cursed him that
he looked at her again, his hooded eyes burning with desire. “We’ll get to that, I promise. I want more time to understand what you like.”

  “I like, okay, but I’d really love to move this along.”

  He quirked his lips. “You would, would you?”

  “You’re purposely torturing me.”

  Now he smiled, and this time the smile reached his eyes. “You’ll just have to take it.” And he bent to her again.

  “Oh, God.” Her head fell helplessly back against the pillow and her hands grabbed and twisted the sheet.

  He chuckled, and she thought for sure she’d die if he didn’t do more than tease her. Then he inserted a finger. Her hips arched off the bed, and he made a sound of approval that vibrated against her, increasing the level of sensation. His tongue stroked her harder, faster, flicking the area where every nerve ending she had was centered. He added another finger, and she whimpered, her head thrashing back and forth across his pillow. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she held her breath, praying for release.

  His tongue circled, pressed, and then he sucked the nub into his mouth, drew hard, and she came apart.

  Sloan marveled at Jesse’s cries of pleasure. She was so expressive, so uninhibited. So…incredible.

  He held her tight against him, not able to get enough of her lusciousness, and rode out her climax until he’d wrung every drop of pleasure from her. She collapsed on the bed, her legs falling weakly beside him. He’d gladly spend the rest of his days making her come like that. He didn’t question the thought, even though part of him was banging loud on the door he’d bolted shut inside his head.

  Tonight, he’d enjoy her. Tomorrow, he’d…well, he’d worry about that tomorrow.

  For now, he’d do what he told her he’d planned. He’d get drunk on her. She was headier than any alcohol, any drug.

  He took in the sight of her spent before him. Her arms lay limply crossways on his bed. Her legs splayed open in invitation, while she gasped for breath.

  He crawled up her body, his mouth nibbling along her stomach, dipping into her adorable belly button. She giggled as he brushed his beard against her soft skin.

  “Oooh, I’ve never appreciated a beard as much as I do now,” she purred.

  She didn’t curl away from him, didn’t push him aside, she didn’t even move as he lightly stroked up her body. He nuzzled the undersides of her perfect breasts. Full, with dark rosy nipples and he unhurriedly suckled each one. His hands lightly traced circles on her skin until she gasped and quivered under him.

  Jesse reached for him, her fingers grazing over his back. The way he touched her was slow, full of yearning and tender loving rather than the hard way he’d taken her earlier. He’d been a beast, an animal. Now he was a lover.

  Her lover.

  Fevered memories of them together in this bed mixed with images of her right now, in the present. He knew what she liked, remembered those kittenish sounds she’d made in the back of her throat when he’d fondled her breasts, rubbed his shaft against her folds.

  “Please, Sloan.” She arched into him. “Please.” The last was a whispered gasp, and he could no longer hold back.

  Slowly he pushed inside her, taking her inch by delicious agonizing inch. He clenched his teeth at her wet heat, her unbelievable softness. She took all of him, cradled him within the valley of her hips, embracing him with those beautifully long legs, her body arching into him, welcoming him. Her arms tightened around him, holding him against her as though she were afraid he’d leave her.

  For a long moment, he held himself deep inside her. Giving her time to adjust to him, until her inner muscles eased their clenching, then he began to gradually thrust in and out of her.

  Just as he’d tasted her earlier, he relished each sound, each naturally seductive movement she made, until he could no longer hold back the pressure building at the base of his spine, and lost himself in the wonder of her.

  She cried his name as she followed him over the edge. He held onto her tighter, afraid that he’d truly fallen to the dangerous depths below. And this time there would be no saving him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  All night and into the early hours of the morning, Sloan reached for Jesse. Letting her rest within his embrace, only to kiss her awake and love her again and again, until the storm outside quieted. But the storm inside him raged on, demanding more. Needing all.

  Finally he slept with her draped exhausted over him, their legs entwined, and her head tucked under his chin.

  It was the best few hours of sleep he’d had in as long as he could remember, but this time when he woke, he remembered everything.

  A magical glow of fresh snow showed through the windows as the late autumn sun slowly rose over the mountains, giving the room a feeling of expectation. He laid on his back staring at the log ceiling as images played before him in stark relief.

  Jesse lay curled into him, one of her legs between his. Her hand, fingers entwined with his, covered his rapidly beating heart.

  Four months ago he’d been in trouble. He’d known death had him in its sights, and then she’d shown up. Like an angel of mercy, Jesse had flown in and cared for him. She’d injected him with the antibiotics she’d luckily had for one of her other deliveries, and bathed him with cold water to help bring his excessive fever down. When reasoning hadn’t worked, she’d threatened until he’d known only her voice, only the feel of her hands against his feverish skin. When he’d reached for her, she’d let him lose himself in the healing effects of her body and spirit, unconditionally giving of herself and not asking a goddamn thing of him in return.

  She’d given him everything.

  What he’d done in return, after the fever had broken, crashed over him. Sloan shut his eyes, trying to block out her remembered declaration of love. The way he’d belittled her just to get her to shut up and take the words back.

  His heart pounded louder, deafening in his ears as blood pulsed hot and fast through his veins. He was afraid the sound would wake her.

  That wasn’t the only thing he was afraid of.

  No, no, he didn’t care about her. No more than he cared for a person in general. He no longer had it in him to love someone. Never again. It hurt too much when they were taken from him.

  He was better off alone. It was why he lived out here. He wasn’t good around people. Not anymore. He sure as hell wasn’t good for her.

  She shouldn’t be here now. He should’ve canceled the contract he had with JB Air Delivery Service, but he hadn’t been able to completely sever the ties between them. He’d needed to see her, even if it was only from the cover of the trees.

  Carefully, Sloan untangled himself from her arms, holding his breath as he inched out of the bed. He covered Jesse with another blanket, and after one last, longing glance at her angelic face, he got the hell out of there.

  Jesse stretched awake and winced. Wow. She felt amazing. Sore, but amazing. A dozen or so orgasms obviously made a woman feel incredible. Who knew? Though, she’d feel the effects of last night for a while, she couldn’t help the swelling in her chest or the thought of making love with Sloan again.

  She turned toward him and found his side of the bed empty, the sheets cold. He’d been gone a while, which brought a level of anxiety that she had to hurry and trample down.

  It will be okay.

  Things would be different this time.

  How could it not when he’d so reverently made love to her? No man could worship a woman like he’d done last night unless he cared for her, wanted to be with her, right?

  God she hoped so, because her heart had gone and tumbled for him again. She’d tried to keep it wrangled, but at some point during the night, she’d known. The heart loves who the heart loves. And her heart loved Erich Sloan. There were easier men to love, but none challenged or thrilled her the way he did.

  Jesse rested there in the large bed with the breathtaking view out the windows, the intoxicating smell of Sloan that surrounded her, while
she gathered up the nerve to venture out of the bedroom. Snow covered the ground, but the lake rippled blue and cold under the weak sun. She wished Sloan had woken up with her. They could have cuddled in the bed together looking out over the view, lost in this extreme paradise, just the two of them. No one to intrude.

  What would it be like to live so simply? Granted, there would be chores, but there were no people to bother them, just her and Sloan and the long Alaskan winter nights. It was so tempting.

  Not one to put off things for long, Jesse climbed out of the bed and reached for one of Sloan’s flannel shirts. It was soft and comforting against her skin, the hem falling to mid-thigh. She had to roll up the sleeves four times in order for her hands to be free. Leaving the top three buttons undone enough to show some serious cleavage, she left the bedroom and followed the enticing smells of food cooking. Suddenly she was starving.

  Sloan was in the kitchen, his back to her. He was fully dressed in cargo pants and a soft cable-knit navy sweater. His hair was damp from a shower and restrained in his customary ponytail. A thrill of excitement shot through her at the sight of him. He looked sexy as hell.

  Forget breakfast, she wanted to eat him up.

  Last night, she’d tried to lick her way down his body, but he’d only let her get so far before hooking his hands under her arms, tossing her onto her back, and taking her again.

  She shivered, remembering.

  A fire blazed in the fireplace, and coffee brewed in the coffeemaker on the counter, while whatever Sloan stirred on the stove sizzled. Her stomach rumbled.

  On bare feet she stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened in her embrace, and she figured she’d surprised him. A man used to living alone wouldn’t like being snuck up on. Next time she’d make some noise.

  “Something smells wonderful,” she murmured, burying her face in his back and breathing deeply of forest and lake.

  “Corned beef hash and eggs,” he said.