I opened my mouth to his, my answer to that question an unequivocal yes.
Leif’s kiss became deeper, gentler. His tongue stroked against mine and I moaned at the feel of his mouth, the wiry bristle of his beard against my cheeks. The need banked in my body had turned into a full-fledged roar, and my wet hands tightened around his cock, holding him as we kissed. His hands dragged over my breasts, cupping them and then teasing the nipples, trying to give me the same pleasure I was giving him in return.
Oh god, Leif’s mouth felt so good on mine. I sucked on his tongue as it slid against my own, thinking how perfect he was for me. He’d be ideal for my heat. He’d…
I pulled away so fast that our lips made a wet sound as we separated. And I stared at him in horror.
He had no idea why he was responding to me like this. Just being around me was going to arouse him, because of the state my body was in. And I felt…ashamed at that.
Leif didn’t even remember that he was in mourning, and here I was, molesting him to suit my own needs.
God, that made me a shitty person.
My hands slid off of him as guilt surged to the forefront. “Why don’t you finish cleaning yourself?” I said, jumping to my feet. I sounded breathless. “I think I need some air.”
And I turned out of the tent and ran.
I hated myself for being so manipulative to Leif. He didn’t remember the last sixteen years. For all intents and purposes, he was a widower, wasn’t he? And here I was with my heat-scent, shoving it under his nose and trying to get him to mate me.
If I was a decent sort of person, I’d remind him of his grief, allow him to get it out in the open, and see how it was affecting him. If he was beside himself with sadness, then I’d know he didn’t want me. If he truly seemed like he’d had time to grieve, then maybe I could continue with my plan. I’d then tell him my problem and ask him how he wanted to logically proceed. Did he want to give a mating a go with me? Or did he want to return to the wild and continue grieving Katja?
The sad thing was…I was terrified of his answer. What if he wasn’t over her? I didn’t know if I could compete with the memory of a dead girl, and so I kept things from him.
It was awful and wrong to withhold information from Leif, and I couldn’t seem to help myself. I shoved my wet hands into the pockets of my coat and paced down the beach, waiting for my body temperature to cool a bit.
I walked for hours, circling the island. Leif didn’t catch up with me, didn’t even come out to see if I was okay. When I returned to my tent, the water had been disposed of, the bathing items cleaned and put away. Leif was gone.
Damn it.
I wondered if I’d chased him off for good. If he came back, I resolved, I would tell him everything.
No more secrets. I had to make sure Leif knew his reaction to me was purely driven by hormones. That he wasn’t attracted to me. That he’d left because his beloved Katja had died.
Once he had the truth, then he could decide how he wanted to handle my heat, instead of me deciding for him.
As much as I hated it, it had to be done.
That next morning, I woke up to an ice sculpture of a whale. It looked as if it were cresting a wave, riding a snowy embankment. The sight of it was a good sign, though. It meant Leif was still in there, and he wasn’t mad at me.
Yet.
Still made me feel better, though.
To my relief, Leif returned a few hours later.
The bear lumbered into camp like nothing had happened, and just outside of the small circle of my encampment, he crouched and began to change to his human form. I placed his clothes out for him, and as soon as he shifted to a man, he immediately began to dress.
I tried not to stare at him as he did, but failed.
Leif had shaved. Not only had we cut his long hair, but he’d cut it even closer to his scalp and shaved his face with my knife. Bristle curved the strong lines of his jaw, but the long, crazy beard was gone.
Leif was gorgeous. Young, strong, and delicious. My hormones sang in response when his attention fixed on me, and the firm lines of his jaw clenched. Without the beard, his nose seemed to dominate his face, a bit too long and prominent to make him model-beautiful, but I liked the look of his face.
I liked everything about him. I was so screwed.
He stared at the fire, and I obediently scooped the last of my instant coffee into the thermos, waiting for the water to heat. Leif had gone through my luxury supplies faster than I’d anticipated, but I hadn’t minded in the slightest. It gave me pleasure to see the look on his face as he re-discovered things as small as protein bars or even a broth-flavored tea. I was sure that a lot of that was my crush on him, but I was powerless to oppose it, thanks to my heat-frenzied hormones.
Leif was silent, though. We both stared at my small fire, not saying anything. The faint crackle of burning driftwood was the only sound in the camp, along with the distant calls of the chinstrap penguins. I no longer even noticed them; they avoided my camp. It smelled too much like predator.
“Storm’s coming,” Leif said after a long moment. “A big one. Lots of snow. You should find shelter.”
I squinted up at the gray skies. They looked pretty much the same as every other day here. It was cold, and dry, and blustery. Typical Antarctic day. “How can you tell?”
He tapped the side of his big nose. “I can smell it. There’s a subtle change on the breeze.” He nodded at the penguins. “And they’re scattering, heading for shelter.”
“Oh.” If the penguins were leaving, that was probably bad.
“You should go,” he said.
That made me bristle. Such a very final sort of comment. You should go, indeed. “I have a tent,” I said stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why not?”
“I’m staying here until the boat returns.”“You can’t. You have no shelter.”
“I have a tent.”
“Your tent won’t be enough.” He gestured at the cove. “There’s buildings in that direction. If you must stay, go into one of those. I’ll help you gather wood. With both of us working on it, you should have enough for a small fire to keep you warm.”
If you must stay? Don’t sound so thrilled.
I couldn’t help but notice he was talking about fire keeping me warm, not us warm. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine in bear form. I’m used to this sort of thing.” He squinted. “I have a den an island or two over. It’s warm enough.”
He was going to ride out a big storm in bear form? “How long do you think the weather will last?”
“Few days. Maybe a week. Like I said, it’s not safe and you should go.” His blue eyes watched me carefully, revealing nothing.
I suspected that if Leif went back to bear form for a week straight, he might not return. His memory was full of holes as it was. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked in a stiff voice. It hurt that he was trying to chuck me off of the island. It was almost like he didn’t want me here.
His blue eyes finally showed an expression - surprise. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, Nikolina. I’m trying to protect you.” He watched me pour water into the thermos. “I’ve been selfish and eaten half your supplies, and you’ve been making me clothes out of your own things. You don’t have a lot of things left. I’m concerned for your safety.”
He was right about that - I was down to two changes of clothing, and less than half of my food. My sleeping bag was so tattered and abused that I had to hold it together while I slept.