The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection Page 2

  Instead, he scooped her up from underneath and stood so fast that she gasped. The camera still hung around her torso at a crazy angle but there was no time to think about it. Instead, he ran to the snowmobile. He ignored the sled at the back and jumped into the seat. As he sat down, he cradled her in front of him. He hit the throttle and the engine roared to life.

  He glanced down at her and she seemed to be looking at him but he knew better. She was in the early stages of hypothermia.

  • • • • •

  Austin easily pulled her through the igloo entrance but left her near the opening. The wet clothes had to come off because the blankets needed to stay dry. He peeled off his own parka and flung it aside as he grabbed the hunting knife from the side pocket of his backpack.

  “Austin?” he heard from behind him.

  “Stay with me, Emily,” he said, and he unsheathed the knife and knelt next to her.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she whispered but her speech was slow.

  On the snowmobile her teeth had been chattering but, at this point, she had already stopped shivering.

  “You would stay with me,” he said, as he pulled off her boots and socks. “You will.”

  He started the knife at the bottom of the ski pants, lifted them away from her and sliced upward toward her hip for about a foot. Then, he did the same with the black tights that were her middle clothing layer. Finally, he came to the thin layer of white thermal underwear and he cut through that as well. He could see her skin now. The razor sharp knife sliced easily through all three layers of clothes, clean through the waistlines. He put tension on the fabric to make it quicker, tearing it as well as cutting it.

  “What’s that sound?” she murmured.

  “I don’t know,” he said, as he quickly flipped the fabric away from her to reveal lacy white panties. “What does it sound like?” he said, as he stretched them away from her and cut through those as well.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  He cut the clothing from her other leg and moved it aside. Her skin was cool to the touch. He quickly checked her face. Her lips were tinged with blue.

  Oh god, hurry, he thought as he grabbed the bottom of her fleece top. She was running out of time.

  • • • • •

  Austin was a nice guy, Emily thought. A gorgeous man or maybe a boy–or, wait, maybe a man, she couldn’t decide–and sweet. But he must be a little deaf. How could he not hear that sound?

  She felt something tug at her waist. Her eyelids were so heavy. She wanted to look but she just couldn’t muster the energy.

  There was that sound again.

  Hmm. She knew that sound. She frowned. It was something bad.

  Oh god. She knew what it was.

  It was the sound of tearing clothes.

  That wasn’t a bad sound. It was terrifying. A scream built in her throat.

  • • • • •

  As the last bit of clothing came away from her, Austin quickly found the sheath and stowed the knife. When he turned back to her, the impact of what he was actually seeing hit him. She was naked, lying in front of him, and every bit as amazing as his imagination had made her.

  Her long shapely legs led up to wide hips. The triangular mound of curling hair below her flat tummy was blonde. Her impossible waist looked so small he thought he might be able to circle his fingers around it and her breasts…. He subconsciously began to lean toward her. They were like plump, flesh-colored fruit. He caught himself.

  What was he doing?

  Suddenly, her eyes opened and a low wail came from between her numb lips.

  “Stop!” she tried to say.

  He flinched.

  Her hands pushed at the air above her, batting at something.

  “No, please,” she whimpered. “I won’t do it again.”

  Won’t do it again?

  She tried to cover her face with her arms and shook her head.

  “Stop,” she pleaded.

  Hallucinations, he thought. The next stage of hypothermia. He stood and quickly stripped off everything but his briefs.

  “Please,” she begged. “I promise.”

  Quietly, she began to cry. And though she tried to keep them in, desperate little sobs escaped her lips. The whimpering desperation of it wrenched his insides.

  He bent down, scooped her up, and brought her away from the wet clothes. In only a step, he set her down on the polar bear skin. She had started to breathe heavily. With her eyes still closed, her hands found him. She tried to push but he gently restrained her and pulled the nearby bearskin over both of them.

  “It’s okay,” he said quietly as he lay down against her. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  Her skin was so cold. He gently rolled her away from him–easy, now that she had stopped struggling.

  “Promise?” she whispered.

  He put his chest against her back.

  “Promise,” he whispered in her ear as he brought his knees up behind hers.

  He wrapped his arm around her chest and pulled her close. He rubbed his palm down her breastbone, below her ribs, and then back up again, trying to create more heat with the friction.

  “You’re going to be okay,” he said. “You’re–”

  His hand brushed against her hard nipple.

  He froze.

  • • • • •

  His voice was so smooth.

  How did men do that? Emily wondered.

  It was almost velvety. And whose voice was that anyway? She felt a hand cup her breast.

  “Oh,” she moaned.

  Austin had a wonderful touch.

  Yes, that’s right. Austin. Now she remembered. She put a hand over his hand. Yes, this was Austin. Austin with the amazing body. She smiled to herself, eyes still closed, and arched her back, moving her hips into his. She felt him then, his hard arousal, and she gasped.

  She moved her hips again.

  It had been such a long time since she’d been with someone. In fact, it had been years and, at the moment, she couldn’t think of a single good reason why. She turned toward him.

  • • • • •

  Austin let her roll over but stopped her as she tried to get on top. Not only did she seem she barely conscious, his chest was a barrier that wasn’t going to move. Instead, he hugged her to him and began rubbing her cold back.

  “Austin,” she murmured into the base of his neck. “Make love to me.”

  “Ssshh,” he whispered in her ear. “Be quiet.”

  As much as he wanted to believe her words, he knew that was the last thing he could do. He had seen this type of hypothermia behavior once before.

  When he was twelve, he’d seen an older man on a hunting party fall overboard. Tarqeq had been pulled out almost immediately but the hypothermia had set in before they could get back to shore. After the shivering and hallucinations, the personality flip had come. Normally mild-mannered and soft-spoken, Tarqeq had turned into a foul-mouthed lunatic. Although the other hunters had expected it, no one could explain why it happened–or the hallucinations for that matter.

  Emily tried to wrap herself around him and only succeeded with the top arm and leg.

  “I want you now,” she said, tilting her chin up and nibbling under his jaw.

  “No you don’t,” he said, quietly, as he rubbed the small of her back and then her buttocks.

  At that she began a rhythmic movement of her hips.

  “I do,” she insisted.

  He felt his arousal grow and stretch his briefs as her movement stroked it. He inhaled sharply.

  “You want it too,” she murmured and kissed his chest. “I knew it.”

  He couldn’t take this. No matter that it was from the hypothermia, he wasn’t going to be able to resist her if she continued. He gently moved her arms and legs from around him and bear hugged her–not tightly, only enough to still her movement.

  “Austin?” she said into his chest. He could feel that her skin was warming. “What are
you doing?”

  “Quiet now,” he said, his chin resting lightly above her head. “You need to rest.”

  She struggled a little.

  “I need you,” she whispered.

  Her lips moved against his chest, his throat.

  “I’m right here,” he whispered.

  “You are,” she said, barely audible.

  He made no reply this time, only held her still.

  For several seconds there was silence and he heard his own heart pounding.

  She had stopped moving. He felt her breath against his skin. He held her so close that he could feel her heart beat against his. Slowly, he released his hold on her.

  She rolled back against his waiting arm and he looked down at her face. She was deeply asleep. He let her head touch the bearskin and gazed down at her parted lips.

  They were so close.

  His arousal ached now but he withdrew his hands from her back and let her settle into the downy fur. He let one hand trail across her stomach before he laid his head down too and became still.

  Make love to her, she had said.

  He'd give anything to do that, especially to a woman like her. But, the truth was, he didn’t know how. At the age of nineteen, he was still a virgin.

  Though he couldn’t see her body under the top bearskin, he lightly ran his hand down her side and around the outside of her hip as he remembered her movements.

  He felt his own hips want to move so he let them. His breathing came in shudders and, as he stared at her face, he touched himself. The quick peak of the arousal surprised him and he stifled a groan.

  • • • • •

  The mattress was firm but the sheets were so soft. Emily couldn’t remember anything that felt quite so satiny. She lay on her back in a white world that seemed like a snow globe. She looked all around but nothing distinct stood out, just the milky white light, tinged with blue.

  She remembered Austin and suddenly he popped into existence next to her, naked.

  “I’m right here,” he said in that velvety voice.

  His chest was bare and, without touching it, she knew it was warm and completely hairless, the skin smooth and sleek over the large, sculpted pectoral muscles.

  Before he popped out of existence, it was time to find out what the rest of him was like.

  Chapter 2

  Austin crouched in front of the second kudlik and filled it. Although the heat of their bodies and the first oil lamp had heated the igloo nicely, another one would put it into that comfort zone that might almost seem normal. He added the wicks, lit them and pocketed the lighter.

  He stood and gazed down at Emily. The rapid eye movements had begun nearly an hour ago. She was dreaming of something that made her smile.

  Thank goodness. The pleading and crying of the hallucination had been gut-wrenching.

  What had that been about?

  He shook his head. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He looked at her clothes, still lying in the entrance. He went over and started to pick them up but they had partially frozen. Though they were useless now, he moved them near the first kudlik. They couldn’t be left here and it’d be easier to pack them out if they could be wrung out and folded. Then, he noticed her camera.

  He picked it up as the sliced strap dangled below it. Miraculously, it seemed all right. Then again, it had never gone in the water. It had been the thing that had saved her. If it had slipped over the lip of the hole…. He shut his eyes against the thought. That had been a close one. The sound of her scream echoed in his head. Her throat had automatically closed when she’d submerged, otherwise her lungs would have filled with ice-cold water–and she’d be dead. His eyes snapped open and he quickly looked at her, as if to confirm yet again that hadn’t happened. He took a deep breath and exhaled, his breath a white mist in the air. He remembered the camera.

  On impulse, he toggled the little dial on the top to the ON position. The camera screen brightened with a small whirring noise and he found he was looking at the polar bear skin. It still worked. Rugged little thing. All around the screen, there were lots of small buttons and a little wheel near the base. Although he’d seen the digital cameras that tourists carried, he’d never actually held one. As he pushed the buttons, the screen was taken over by previous photographs. There was the frozen river, the last shot she’d taken. Eventually he figured out that he could step back through the photos. There were several of the top block of the igloo sliding into place. And then there were a few that he didn’t recognize. He skipped them and found a photo of himself. He was wearing the grey tank top and held a block of ice on his shoulder.

  Wait–that grey.

  He went back to the photos he hadn’t been able to make out.

  This photo was a close-up of his chest. He cocked his head at it and glanced at Emily. She had been taking photos of him?

  Well, she’d been taking photos of him all day. That’s why they were here. He looked at the screen again. But photos like this?

  His heart began to beat a bit faster.

  He quickly looked through the rest of the pictures, moving back through the day. There were several close-ups of him interspersed with the regular shots–his biceps, his back, his face, his … lips. He realized he was gripping the camera too tight and turned it off.

  Why hadn’t she said something?

  He set the camera down and took off his parka. He was overheating.

  As he stared at her face and the contours of her body under the bearskin, he couldn’t help but wonder what had been going through her mind. Without realizing it, he found himself standing over her, stripping off the last of his clothing. He quickly ducked under the bearskin and lay on his side, trying not to wake her. She was still dreaming.

  He began to reach out and stopped.

  This wasn’t right.

  She had taken pictures of him, not touched him.

  But as he remembered the photos, he knew what had been going through her mind–the same thing that was going through his now. Besides, he reasoned with himself, I’ve already seen her naked and actually touched her. It wouldn’t be something new.

  And, he couldn’t help himself.

  He reached out but stopped again. His hands were cold. That’d be a mistake. He briskly rubbed them together until he was satisfied. Then he placed one under his head to support it.

  His wide chest had raised the bearskin just enough to see her. The hypothermia was definitely gone. Her ivory skin stood out in the dim light but it had taken on a delicate pink color. Her breasts seemed even more full and he realized that her nipples were no longer hard. He stared at the one closest to him and inched closer. It was a perfect oval. The skin there was like pink cream, smooth with a tiny pucker in the middle. He reached out his hand and was surprised to find it was trembling. He curled and flexed his fingers, trying to get it to stop. Finally, it quieted to the tiniest quaking and that was going to have to be good enough.

  His index finger touched her and slowly traced the soft oval outline.

  Emily immediately took a deep breath and Austin held his–but she didn’t wake up.

  Even so, her reaction had triggered one of his own and warmth began to spread in his groin. He circled her nipple again.

  A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes moved furiously under the closed lids.

  His index finger drifted along her breast and he slowly lowered his palm onto the nipple. She filled his hand and he had to keep looking at it to make sure he was still in contact with her. She was so soft and the flesh gave so easily. He’d never felt anything like it. He concentrated on not squeezing too hard.

  Then, she whimpered–a low, barely audible sound–and he froze again.

  Slowly, her back began to arch. As he watched in disbelief, the warmth in his groin suddenly flamed. Again, he felt the urge to move his hips. But instead, he released her breast and moved his hand downward. He shifted the bearskin away with a toss of his shoulder so that he could see her. She had begun to relax h
er back and, as she did, her hips rose slightly. His hand slowly glided along the flat of her stomach. As he raised himself up, he reached her abdomen. His thumb lingered behind and dipped into her navel. He gave it the slightest pressure and her back began to arch again, tilting her hips downward. But he couldn’t wait for her hips to tilt back up. Even though he couldn’t see that far, he stretched his fingers into the tiny curls of the small mound and then over its edge.

  It was as though he had pulled instead of pushed. Her hips became still and then pivoted in the opposite direction, rising up as the small of her back settled back down to the white fur. Her mound pressed into his hand and her legs began to move.

  “Oh my god,” he whispered.

  It was mesmerizing. Everything he did produced some reaction. Endless possibilities started to form in his mind. Then, she languidly rolled toward him and he jerked his gaze to her face.

  She was awake.

  • • • • •

  Emily didn’t know the exact moment she realized it wasn’t a dream. It had been so gradual. Her dream of Austin and the real thing–they were so alike. At first, she’d been afraid to let him know she was awake for fear of what he might do to her. She simply became still and kept her eyes closed.

  But as Austin continued to touch her, she heard him gasp. Without seeing his face, she felt the tenderness of his touch and was drawn into his tentative exploration of her body. Now she kept her eyes closed, afraid that he would stop. It had been so long since someone had touched her this way.

  She had begun pushing relationships away from the start, though she hadn’t realized it. Years of therapy about what her father had done hadn’t helped. She still couldn’t remember what had happened that day. Only the lingering dread remained. And the nightmares–they had started to color everything in her life.