“Of course.”
She looked down at the wolf-pup, who was staring at her like he was also following the conversation.Somehow.“Then let’s all sleep outside.Yeah, I hurt.But nature can heal.You know it, our people have always known it, and I feel it deep inside.”She’d always embraced her Inuit culture, and the pulse of Alaska sang through her often.“Please.”
He straightened.“All right.But if you get cold or uncomfortable, you will tell me.Got it?”
“Yeah.”She felt like she’d won a huge battle.“Show me your spot, Christian.”
Chapter34
The morning air tasted like wet moss and new leaves.Cold, clean, and just sharp enough to keep him still.The sky hadn’t gone blue yet but the dark was losing its grip, softening at the edges, turning that shade of gray that meant the sun was getting ready to climb.
A thrush called once from deep in the trees.Another answered.Somewhere downhill, a stream moved fast over rock, swollen from melt.The earth smelled like thaw and pine needles.
Christian sat at the edge of the ledge.There was no reason to move.No threat in the silence.Just a wide sweep of forest waking up.
Behind him, Amka slept curled inside the thermal sleeping bag atop a thick mat he’d dug out of his gear closet, her back tucked against the stone ledge.He’d insisted on the mat for her comfort, and truth be told, he hadn’t minded.Had enjoyed holding her all night in the snug sleeping bag.
Her breath was steady, her face half-buried in the bag’s hood.Tika had parked himself across her ankles and was snoring like it was a job.The animal hadn’t stirred once all night.Neither had she.
Birdsong grew louder as the light shifted.Yellow-green lichen glowed on the rocks, and dew clung to the low brush like the whole world had exhaled and settled.Spring was coming fast now.He could feel it pushing up from the ground.
Nothing moved in the trees.Not yet.Still early.The kind of early he liked.Quiet.Alive.His bones knew this kind of morning.His blood settled into it without asking.
He watched the ridgeline and listened to the forest breathe.
Tika finally stirred, stretching and yawning, pushing to his feet.He padded over and sat, nudging Christian with his ear.
Christian obliged him and scratched down his head, feeling the thick fur.
Tika turned his head and looked behind him.
“I know,” Christian murmured.The woman had slept outside with him all night.Not one complaint.Only a sleepy pointing out of the various constellations.She even created a couple of new ones for him.For fun.He’d never met anybody, besides his family, who accepted him just as he was.But what did that give her?He glanced over his shoulder to see her thick hair tumbled out of the bag.Protection, for sure.Love.Yeah, he could probably do that.He wasn’t sure about romance but could probably ask Brock for advice.He seemed romantic.Sometimes.
Tika yawned again and then eased away, climbing down the rocky trail and disappearing into the forest.Maybe to hunt or just explore.
Amka mumbled something behind him and he turned, watching her come awake.She was even more beautiful than the sunrise now coloring the sky pink.“Hi.”Did she sound shy?
“Hi.”He moved to her.“You okay?”
“A little cold.”She flapped open the bag in obvious invitation.
Well, all right.He slid back inside and enclosed them, spooning her with her sweet ass against his groin.Instantly, his cock went rock hard.
She giggled.Not laughed.Not chuckled.But actually giggled, sounding young and free.Had he ever heard her giggle before?His heart thumped.Hard.“Are you sore from sleeping on the ground?”
“Nope.”She wriggled her butt.“This mat you forced up here makes this as luxurious as a real hotel bed.Like one from a fancy hotel in Anchorage.”She wriggled again.The brat was doing that on purpose.
He’d been a perfect gentleman all night, and Hank would’ve been proud.“Your body is way too sore for what I want to do with it.”He might as well be honest with her.
She turned in his arms, her hip sliding across his erection.From the spark of wickedness in her eyes, she meant the torturous touch.“Like I said, I’m not sore.”She rolled her hips against him again, playful and sure, and that smile—half-mischief, half-invitation—cut clean through his good intentions.
Well, all right.He was just done fighting them.
He kissed her, taking over slowly, until her teasing quieted, lips parting under his.His hand slid under the sleeping bag, up beneath her shirt, across the warm skin of her stomach.She sucked in a breath.
“You okay?”he asked, voice low against her mouth.
“I’m perfect,” she murmured, breath hitching.“Touch me.”
