WILD MEN OF ALASKA

chapter FIFTEEN

Gemma tossed and punched her pillow. She glared at the digital clock on her bedside table as the minute turned from 1:59 to 2:00 am. How could she not sleep? She hadn’t slept more than a few fitful hours in weeks. What the hell? She was alone. Utterly and completely alone. She’d tried a hot shower, needing it after the jail stopover.

Her mind ran circles around her problems, never settling on a course of viable action. Maybe she should talk to someone? Who? A therapist? Right. What she needed was a freaking sleeping pill.

And Siri had given her some.

Gemma jumped out of bed and raced into the kitchen. Where had she put them? Her purse produced nothing, but the pocket of her coat proved helpful. There was the small plastic baggie with a dozen or so small white sleeping pills.

Had Siri said how many to take? One, two, four? Obviously not four. Geez. Maybe not even two. She could Google the information if the pills had a name on them. But there was only a number etched into the face of the pills. Should she call Siri and ask? No, it was way too late to call anyone. Besides, she shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of taking medication her mother recommended.

Obviously, she was way past doing anything reasonable.

She needed sleep, and she was going to get some even if it killed her. Okay, probably not the best thought to have. She’d take one pill. If that didn’t work within a reasonable time frame she’d take another. An hour should be good.

Fishing one of the little white pills out of the baggie, Gemma swallowed it whole without water. She stood there waiting, for what she didn’t have a clue. A magical stirring of melatonin that promised sweet oblivion?

Clutching the baggie in her hand, she filled a glass of water and headed back to bed. Setting down the glass with the bag of pills next to the bed, she came to a cold stop. What was she doing? Sleeping pills cozying up to a glass of water didn’t give off a happy outcome for waking up in the morning. If ever.

It was so hard making decisions—right or wrong—when she wasn’t in her right mind. The pills had to go, but suddenly the effects of whatever she’d taken took form. Her legs were heavy, reflexes sluggish. What had she taken? Definitely needed to know that before she’d taken them. Her eyes refused to focus. Things in the room seemed to move on their own or was she swaying? Everything was too much effort, just gathering the pills and hiding them away in her night table—far away from the glass of water—took all the energy Gemma had left.

A few tries and she was able to swing back the covers and crawl under them. Her eyelids locked shut, and her breathing slowed. A sense of peace came over her, and she sighed. Finally, she’d get the rest she’d been depriving herself.

Then suddenly it felt like she’d stepped off the planet. Tripped into nothingness.

One second she was flat on her back in bed, the next transported as though she were on the starship Enterprise and Scotty had just beamed her up.

Deeper than sleep. Deeper than a coma. She was gone.

She opened her eyes to find herself not on her bed. Not even in her bedroom. By the warmth, and lush grass under where she lay, she wasn’t even in Alaska. The only snow and ice in sight was high atop amethyst mountains in the distance.

Her breath caught on the beauty and tranquility of wherever she was. Colors more vibrant than any palette painted wildflowers that bobbed and swayed in the sweet-scented breeze. She couldn’t quite comprehend the snow-topped majestic mountains sheltering the surrounding meadow. A blue ribbon of liquid sapphires sparkled in the sun. If this was a dream it was the most visual and sensual one she’d ever had. Too real. She struggled to her feet, pinching herself even though she had no desire to wake up and leave.

Where was she?

“Limbo. And how the hell did you get here?”

Slowly she turned. There was Lucky in full Technicolor. A tight-fitting t-shirt with some climbing gear company’s symbol scrawled across the chest showed off heavy, defined muscles in his torso and arms. He was lean and hard, his skin smooth and golden, his eyes the softest brown. Cargo shorts and hiking boots completed his outfit. Is this how he was dressed when he visited her? The man was a walking advertisement for REI.

“Gemma, what did you do?” A scowl darkened his face.

“Took a sleeping pill,” she admitted, her eyes devouring the sight of him.

There was a pause. “Sleeping pill or pills?”

“My mom gave them to me. I just took one and ended up here.” She looked around again. “Got any ideas how that happened?”

He pursed his lips in thought, the scowl furrowing deep lines in his forehead.

“What is it? You know, don’t you?”

“I have a theory.”

“I’m not dead, too, am I?”

“No. You and I are connected. Destined.” He rushed on when she went to interrupt. “I know you don’t like that word, but it’s the only explanation for why, after I passed away, that I was drawn to you. I’m thinking taking a sleeping pill allowed your spirit to astral project to where it wants to be. To me.”

Astral project?

Hadn’t she been warned about that? What had Siri said? Gemma had the sneaky suspicion she was in trouble.

“What are you thinking?” Lucky asked, looking as though he wanted to reach out and touch her but was afraid to move.

“You can’t read my thoughts?”

“You’re doing that mile a minute thing, but your expression is freaking me out.”

“Well, I’m a little freaked.”

“That explains it then.” He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his cargo shorts. She followed the movement, and his eyes widened. “Can you see me?”

“Yes.” Her throat thickened with emotion. This was so much more real, being with him here, seeing him. She reached out to touch him, and he sucked in his breath.

Softly her fingers traced the bones in his face. His eyes shuttered closed on a groan. “Gemma, tell me you can feel me too.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s as though you’re really here with me. Alive.” She cupped his jaw, the stubble raspy against her fingers, and placed her other hand on his chest. Unbelievably, his heart pounded fast under her palm. His skin was hot like he had an internal sun heating him from the inside out.

Slowly he grasped her shoulders. “Let me—I have to—” His mouth was on hers, kissing her, plundering, groaning as he yanked her into his arms. She melted into him. All of her soft curves linked with his hard angles, like puzzle pieces always meant to be together.

“Gemma,” he moaned. “Please, I need—”

“Yes, I need too,” she rushed to finish for him.

“Are you sure?” Warm rich brown eyes stared into hers.

“God, yes.”

“I don’t know how much foreplay—”

“No foreplay.” She flipped the button free on his shorts, besides who knew what kind of time they had together? “We’ve had weeks of foreplay.” She slid his zipper down. “I need to see you. Really see you. All of you. Now.”

In a flurry, he stripped off his clothes.

Her eyelids threatened to close from the sheer beauty of this man, but she forced them to stay open, not wanting to miss a minute of viewing his body.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. She’d guessed this from feeling him in her dreams, and dancing with him the night before. But in the flesh he was magnificent. Worship worthy. Muscles corded and hardened every inch of his skin. His upper body bunched as though he could easily shoulder the weight of the world, angling down to a solid waist with muscles defined in a way she’d never seen illustrated outside of a book. Her eyes traveled lower, hoping the promise of his torso extended to other parts as well.

A choking sound came from him, and too late she remembered he could read her thoughts when they weren’t jumbled. They weren’t jumbled now. Call it a one track mind. She had it. Regardless of the blush heating her face, she had to look, and then stared. Her mouth fell open in a silent “O”.

His penis jutted out from the V-line of his groin, proud and unapologetic of its size and thickness. He flexed the muscles of his abdomen, making it bob in a playful hello that was anything but reassuring. She’d felt that thickness and length pressing against her. But feeling and seeing apparently were two vastly different things.

“Looking at me like that makes me glad for every damn mountain I struggled to climb.”

She licked her lips. She couldn’t wait to climb him.

A surprised guttural sound escaped him, and he took a large step back, putting distance between them. “Keep thinking like that and I won’t be able to behave.”

When had he ever behaved?

He’d snuck into her dreams, seduced her in her sleep. Bewitched her every thought. “I’m not asking you to behave.” Quite the opposite, in fact.

“I want this to be special for you, Gemma. Not just a tumble like I’ve had with so many other women. I want to love you.”

“Love me then.” The words came out like a dare. “Love me until I know nothing but you. And you know nothing but me,” she couldn’t help adding. She reached for the hem of her top and whipped it off, her breasts bouncing with the action. Her bottoms went next, leaving her as naked as Eve to his Adam. In this paradise, it was easy to imagine the world barely born and just the two of them existing to love one another.

“Oh, Gemma.” A low moan escaped from deep within his throat. His hand clenched around hers, and the space he’d put between them disappeared like it had never been. A low growl preceded his fingers fisting in her hair, and his mouth devouring hers. She’d broken the thread he’d been holding onto, had felt it snap in the air with her last words. With the one hand gripping her hair, holding her mouth prisoner to his plundering, his other hand seized her hip, yanking her flush against him.

His erection searched for entry between her thighs as though it had a mind of its own. That she had no doubt, as the bulbous head found her wet and slick. He lifted her leg around his hip and entered her with one hard thrust, arching her body backward.

Breath whooshed out of her, and she couldn’t get it back.

In this position, she was completely at his mercy. Not any man could hold her body this way, and do what he was doing to her, without the strength of steel infused within his very fiber.

Gasping, she tore her mouth free of his, her neck arcing into the bow her body had become. From chest bone to hip bone, they were one as he bent his powerful body over her, in a way forcing her to take everything he had to give. He held himself impossibly deep within her, breathing hard, keeping their bodies flush and tight, his mouth hovering over her collarbone.

Lightly he scraped her skin with his teeth. “Gemma,” he groaned. “I’ve never felt so...so complete as I feel buried within the depths of your beautiful body.”

She melted further at his words. A rush of molten liquid infused her body where they were joined, and her inner muscles contracted in a series of hot spasms.

She stretched her arms around his neck and held on as he slowly, painstakingly retreated from the heat of her body, and then thrust in to her again. She’d never been held like this before. Never been made love to like this and didn’t know how long she’d last without crumbling at his feet. Muscles strained as sensations snapped and sparked with electrical current.

“Tighten your hold on to me,” he ordered, lifting her other leg to hook his hip, his arms wrapping like steel bands around her. In one graceful, measured move, he lowered them to the lush, carpeted ground without retreating from the zenith of her body.

How did a man move like this?

“Yoga,” he answered. His mouth stole her breath as his teeth captured her nipple. With a flick of his tongue against the turgid peak, he tugged and released it, only to suck the nub roughly into his mouth as his hips slammed hard into her.

Her arms hooked around his upper torso as she attempted to anchor herself. If anything she found herself holding on more in this position than the last one as he mindlessly pounded into her.

“Oh, God,” she began to chant. She tried to slow the reaction of her body, wanting it to last longer, but sensations danced over her like vibrant waves of the Northern Lights. “Oh, my God.” Electrical currents charged her with each plunge and retreat. His mouth continued to lick, suck, and nip at her breasts, his hands yanking her closer, spreading her, angling her hips upward, opening her to the sweet assault of his body as he imprinted on hers with voltage too high to contain.

“Ohmygod,” she screamed to the Heavens.

His answering shout of satisfaction joined in with the cadence of her cries, clutching her tight within his iron grasp as he emptied his essence inside her.

She imploded into the fabric of the Universe.

Lucky’s body settled softly over hers, his weight delicious.

“Oh, God that was amazing,” she gasped.

“You gotta quit throwing that word around. Someone will hear.”

No way did she have the strength to move even if a crowd of thousands had gathered. “Who will hear?”

“God,” he leaned in and whispered, nibbling on her ear.

She giggled then sobered, her wide eyes meeting his. “You’re not kidding.”

“Kinda. Sorta. Yeah, not really. I haven’t seen the Big Guy as I’m stuck in Limbo. But hard not to believe He exists with all this.” He lifted his head, looking around them at their glorious surroundings, then back to her. His eyes heated with emotion as he gazed into hers. “And with what just happened between us.”

“Do you, uh, think what just happened was okay?” She shrugged. “You know, with Him?” And you, she silently added.

“As far as I’m concerned, He made all this possible. You are meant to be here. Now. Like this. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” He caressed her face with the back of his fingers. “As for me, there is nothing in my life, or death, that compares to what I just experienced with you. I love you, Gemma, more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.”

Tears tickled the back of her throat, making it impossible to speak. Something in the way she looked at him must have satisfied him, for he smiled, and softly kissed her lips. Taking time to treasure rather than plunder.

They held each other like that for a long time, leisurely caressing, softly kissing, as they seemed to float in a moment of weightlessness.

“This place is so beautiful,” Gemma murmured, gazing up at the puffy clouds so white they gleamed like pearls.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you are.”

She angled her head to look at him, her mind needing to see his reaction, though her heart feared for his answer. “How could you ever leave such a place?”

He smoothed her hair to fan on the grass, before his eyes could meet hers. “It’s a spirit prison, Gemma. Doesn’t matter how pretty it’s dressed up, it’s still a prison.”

“So if you choose to stay with me, you can leave this place?”

“Yes.”

But what kind of hell would that be? In her life but not. A spirit to wander and never die.

“Let’s not talk about that.” He gave her a hard, quick kiss. “I don’t want to waste one moment of being with you like this.” His lips trailed down her neck.

“Could I stay here with you?”

He froze, and then his head came up, his eyes piercing hers. “No. Don’t even entertain the thought. This isn’t living. It’s existing. No hunger, yet you can eat if you want to. Everything you think you want is provided, but it isn’t real.” He released her and fell back on the grass, linking his arms behind his head gazing up at the sky. “At first, I loved it here. I climbed all those mountains, explored endless valleys and hills. Experienced beauty in landscapes like I’d never seen before. But there was always something off. There is no challenge. No change.”

“How long will I be able to stay here with you?”

He turned, and his sad eyes meet hers. “You’re already leaving me, babe.” His finger traced the side of her face, her bottom lip, trailing over the curve of her chin. “I suspect you look to me now, how I look to you. There is translucence about you, and you’re fading, fast.”

She felt it now, a heaviness pulling her as though she was anchored somewhere and the slack was being pulled out of the line. It must be the effects of the sleeping pill, or whatever her mother had given her, wearing off.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Not after finally being with him. Loving him.

He kissed her, held her locked within his arms, yet she could feel herself slipping away. His mouth became more demanding, as he gripped her tighter. There was a moan of despair as she was taken from him, ripped from the comfort and love she’d found in his arms.

A cry as if his heart were being torn from his chest ripped through the tatters of space.

Gemma jerked up in bed feeling like the wind had been knocked out her. She was cold, the bed empty, and she was fully dressed in her “I Otter Be Asleep” pajamas. The same pajamas that she remembered stripping out of in front of Lucky.

That hadn’t been a dream. It couldn’t be. She knew it in her core, in her heart. But waking up in her bed made it hard to believe she’d actually made love to Lucky.

Despair threatened to swamp her. She climbed out of bed, and any doubt that she’d been with him evaporated. It had been a long time since she’d been with someone and the physical aches were a pleasurable reassurance that she hadn’t dreamt being with him. The night had been magical, what they’d shared had been out of this world.

She chuckled with the thought. Out of this world pretty much said it all.

She jumped in the shower, humming as she got ready for work. It wasn’t until she was on the way to Chinook Books that the gravity of her situation hit her.

She’d slept with her Dreamweaver, participated in astral sex, and would do so again if given the opportunity.

And didn’t she have the opportunity shut away in the drawer of her night table in the form of a baggie of little white pills her mother had supplied her?