Bearilicious - Collection (17 page)

II.

“Lorena, could you bring any more baggage for a camping trip?” my best friend, Julie, asked as she helped me carry my bags to her car. “It’s only a weekend.”

“There’s food in there too,” I responded. “You know I need to be well nourished.”

“Yeah, okay. I don’t believe you, but okay.”

I gave her my best frown and got into the passenger side of the car. We discussed my reluctance to talk to Bradley and her disappointment from such. She expressed her concern in my low self-esteem and insisted that I am a “beautiful, strong woman.” I was kinda getting motivated and she continued talking about how I needed to “live up to my potential.”

Julie and I have been friends since third grade, but she always kept men on the forefront of her mind. Even then, she had a list of the boys she had crushes on and was completely intent on winning their affections.

I’m still not sure what she expected to do with boys at that age, but I guess I was never incredibly boy crazy. I had other things on my mind - like remaining invisible.

We met our other high school friends Shelly (and her boyfriend Rick), Vickie (and her girlfriend Sandra), James (and his girlfriend Patsy), and George, who happened to be off and on with Julie. I realized in the first moment of arriving that I was the additional wheel in a vehicle with quite a few wheels. I suppose they assumed since I’m the biggest wheel, I can get along carrying the weight on my own.

This trip is going to suck.

I tried to keep my cool, be amiable with the group, but they all seemed more concerned with enjoying nature with their respective significant others. It seemed, unfortunately for me, that George and Julie’s relationship currently was on.

It would have been nice for her to tell me that so I didn’t waste my time having to watch couples together. Even when the couples are my own friends, I despise couples and being around them. Once I pushed a couple down in the street on Valentine’s Day. It didn’t really make me feel better, but it helped enough.

I decided to take a walk on my own to clear my head. I wouldn’t be missed since I didn’t have a significant other to notice my existence. Only a few days before I had noticed how utterly lonely I truly am, and now I’m faced with that predicament again.

Yet, nature helped calm my nerves and disappointments. The pine trees stood apart from each other, but appeared strong and beautiful, reaching for the endless blanket of stars above them.

Their pine needles may have touched, but they all appeared as single members of the large group. They didn’t need to be intertwined with another tree to be whole.

I sighed. That lonely metaphor didn’t really make sense as I thought about it more. The trees are still gorgeous, and the sky is still infinite, so maybe I could handle my loneliness by appreciating the beauty of…

Suddenly, I felt a hand grab me from the back, covering my mouth and dragging me into the woods. My heart exploded in my chest, trying to beat out of my ribs by punching my jogging lungs. Air could not enter my nose fast enough.

My arms tried to fight, my legs tried to kick, but whoever had me held on too tight. The trees seemed to whizz by as I went further and further into the forest. My lungs simply couldn’t catch up.

Before I knew it, the whole scene had gone black. The last thing I saw were those numberless smatterings of stars glistening lonely and helpless above me.

III.

I opened my eyes slowly, wondering if I had died in the struggle, and now I existed somewhere in the limbo for spinsters. Wherever I was, the darkness had set in further except for the faint light of a fire.

Somewhere around me, I could hear a male voice muttering to itself. Could that be a demon ready to torture me? Were there demons in limbo? I tried to remember Dante’s
Inferno
, but the fear destroyed any thoughts in my head.

“I have to do this,” the voice muttered. “I’ve come this far, and I need to follow through.”

I’m going to die. If I’m not dead already, I’m soon going to die. I need to find a way out. I need to be the girl who’s on
I Survived
, not
Forensic Files.
I contemplated my surroundings. The cushy embrace of a couch held me, and, even in the dark, I could see wood beams and walls around me.

Out the window, I could see the outlines of rows and rows of trees. The escape would not be easy, but thankfully I felt no binds on any of my limbs. Perhaps, perhaps, I could get out of this.

A tall figure moved into the shadow of the fire burning somewhere near me. If only I had a weapon to shank him with. Maybe I could find something in the couch…

“Are you awake?” the voice asked before an unbelievably handsome face appeared above me. In the fire light, I could see his green eyes glinting as his frown added to his chiseled features.

“Am I dead?” I asked. “If I’m dead, I’m probably not awake.”

Even in the dark, I could see his eyes roll, “You aren’t dead, obviously. Sit up, I’d like to talk to you more face to face.”

I sat up. My kidnapper looked even better as I faced him. He wore a tight wife beater (appropriate) that showed off his muscles and six pack. I expected the guy to be like John Wayne Gacy, a crazy, greasy clown who inspired nightmares.

But there he stands, a beautiful Adonis of a man. He looks slightly older than me, perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six, and had that haughty look one would expect the real life Heathcliff to have.

If this were in a different circumstance, I definitely would’ve stared at him from across the room and imagined our fairy-tale futures together.

“You’re even more beautiful in the light,” he said softly, perhaps to sound romantic.

“Uh thanks,” I answered, not sure what else to say.

“I intend on making you my mate tomorrow,” he stood taller, giving me a look of superiority. “You may not think so right now, but I will make a fine mate for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. This is completely crazy. It might be some suicide cult thing where he made me his mate, then made me drink poisoned Kool Aid.

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head. No poison for me, thanks.

“I’ll get you some water.” He moved to leave the room.

“Please don’t,” I stopped him. “Please, I don’t want anything.” No poison for me, thanks!

“You should keep hydrated. I didn’t expect you to pass out.”

“People do strange things when they’re being kidnapped.”

His stature slumped slightly, but he regained his composure. “I’ll get you some water.”

As he left the room, he began to mutter again. I scooted closer to the kitchen to listen.

“You have to impregnate her tonight,” he muttered. “If you don’t do it tonight, there’s no use. You need to do it before the sun sets tomorrow morning. You have to.”

Oh no, I am not letting this guy impregnate or do anything to me. He’s probably one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen - even beyond Bradley - but I will not allow some man who stole me away into the woods to “impregnate” me. I looked around again to find the exits. The door looked to be a straight dash if I could distract him.

He returned with a glass of water. I took it and pretended to take a drink.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to seem more vulnerable so he had his guard down. “Why me?”

“You’ll know very soon,” he replied, seeming as ominous as ever.

I need to get out of here. Behind him, the fire crackled loudly as a log fell from its perch on the other burning logs. He turned to tend the fire (or just see what the fire was doing), so I stood with the water tightly in hand. Before he could stop me, I threw the water onto the fire and hit him on the head with the glass. He yelled in pain as I ran to the door.

Thankfully, it opened easily, and I ran like a spinster out of limbo into the dark woods.

IV.

I felt frantic, running in any direction that could lead out of the woods. I heard the kidnapper behind me, could almost sense him around me. His figure appeared before me, silhouetted by the light of the moon. Suddenly, the figure transformed from a man to a bear. I froze. My mind completely blanked.

I might get mauled by a bear. This is the end.

I closed my eyes, preparing for my death. As if from heaven, an arrow flew through the air and hit the bear just as he prepared to lunge for me. The animal dropped to the ground, revealing another male figure with a bow still pointed. He lowered it and came closer.

“Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his distance.

“I am now,” I responded, finally able to breathe again.

"Come with me before he gets up. These are tranquilizer arrows, and staying here is dangerous.”

I obeyed, following him quickly through the woods. He grabbed my hand through a particularly sketchy part and looked back to make sure I could make it through. I could barely see him in the dark, but his hand felt strong, and he looked tall and lean.

When the moon and starlight touched his face every so often, he looked handsome. Perhaps it’s just some kind of damsel in distress thing, but I felt instantly close and connected to him.

We came upon a decrepit looking shack, which he led me toward.

“That place looks riddled with spiders,” I panted.

“Trust me,” he responded, unlocking the dilapidated door and gesturing for me to enter into the dark.

I walked carefully into the building, worrying I’d walk right into a large spider web or some kind of old machinery. Old shacks in the wood always seem to be full of creepy old relics.

A light turned on behind me to reveal a much nicer than expected cabin. No bugs or animals, no relics of the past, nothing seemingly amiss really. I turned to see him in the light. He indeed appeared tall, lean, strong, and handsome. He looked like the stereotypical hot, rugged man - dark, thick stubble, a flannel shirt, and intense dark eyes.

“I know it looks like a dump on the outside,” he said. “I like to keep a low profile. I don’t like people poking around.”

“You live out here?” I asked, trying not to stare at him. Though he’d saved my life, he still would probably never consider a woman who looks like me.

“I do. A few other hunters and I live out here, off the grid. One of us usually waits behind while the others go out and hunt to just kind of hold fort.”

“Is that what you were doing when you found me?”

“I was walking back from one of my friend’s houses, yes. I heard running and decided to investigate. You looked to be in trouble.”

“I was. This may sound completely crazy, but the bear he… he was a man. I was at a barbeque with my friends, and I decided to go for a walk. The man grabbed me and dragged me into the woods. He was muttering about how he was going to impregnate me before the sun rose and all of this. I fled when I could.”

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t show any sign of disbelief. “There are stories about bear shifters in these woods. So, don’t worry - I don’t think you’re crazy. I’m very sorry you went through that.”

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be right back there. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I am sure you’re eager to get back to your friends, but I don’t think it’s safe with that guy out there. I would feel better if we wait until my friends get back from the hunt, and then get you home. He’s dangerous.”

I nodded. “When do your friends get back?”

“A week from now. I know that may seem like a long time, but I want to keep us both safe. I don’t want that man to know where I live or to be able to somehow intercept you when we try to make our way back into town.”

“Okay. Is there any way I could call my friends or my parents so they know I’m safe?”

“I’m off the grid. I don’t have a phone.”

“What if you have an emergency?”

“I haven’t had one yet. I guess I’ll deal with that if it comes.”

I could only nod. “Well, okay. Um… my name is Lorena. What is yours?”

“Dorian.”

“As in
The Picture of
?”

“You got it. My last name just isn’t Gray.”

I laughed, “Right. Well, I guess I will try to make myself comfortable then. Do you mind leaving me alone for a little bit to just… comprehend everything?”

“Of course. Let me set you up in the guest room.”

The cabin was deceivingly large. I expected it to be smaller from the look of the outside. He led me into a small, quaint room and let me be. I needed the time to think about all that had happened, but I also wanted to get out of the room with him. Perhaps because he saved me, all I could think about was his sexiness. My kidnapper had been the hottest guy I’d ever seen, but Dorian outdid him.

I’d rather separate myself from the situation than be rejected and disappointed. There didn’t seem a point to try to pursue him during this short time together.

V.

I awoke the next day greeted by the smell of something delicious cooking. It took a moment for me to remember where I was and the situation at hand, but at least I’m not being starved.

I never imagined anything like this would happen to me. Of all the girls to kidnap, why me? What do I have to offer anyone? It must be the child-bearing hips that my kidnapper wanted.

In real life, who actually kidnaps someone to impregnate and marry them? I thought in this day and age, men didn’t even want to get married. They long to stay bachelors and sow their wild oats.

Maybe that’s just men in college though - they aren’t ready to settle down. They don’t even really want to do their homework. The kidnapper must feel his biological clock ticking for some crazy reason.

I’m not sure I know enough about men to attempt to figure out what they’re thinking.

I left the room on the search for the delicious food. Dorian sat on his couch, drank some steaming beverage, and read a book. He looked comfortable and incredibly handsome. I’ve always enjoyed a man who reads.

“Good morning,” he said, his eyes not rising from the book. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept just fine, considering the circumstances,” I answered.

“You do look well-rested.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He gave a slight smile, “You look fresh and pretty. It’s a compliment.”

“Oh,” I blushed and quickly changed the subject. “Are you cooking food?”

“I am cooking. I went out and caught some grub.”

“Well, thank you, Dorian.”

“You’re quite welcome, Lorena.”

He stood and moved to the kitchen. He swept by me, enveloping me in his scent and his skin brushing on mine as he went by. He made me nervous, as most attractive men did.

Having him in such close proximity forced me to interact with him. Normally, I would separate myself from the situation to avoid getting too attached.

He’d made some kind of meat and eggs. I didn’t really want to ask what meat, so I just ate it without question. I hoped it wasn’t squirrel.

Whatever it was, it tasted wonderful. Being a college student, it’d been such time since I had a good home-cooked meal. In that, my mom was too busy doing her own thing to ever cook for me.

After breakfast, he asked if I’d like a book to read or if I’d like to do some art. He had paint supplies, as well as drawing pads and charcoals.

He explained that life in the woods could get boring, especially in the winter, so he liked to pursue the arts even though he “wasn’t any good.” I decided to read as that I didn’t want to reveal that I also wasn’t any good at art.

For a mountain man, he had an alarming amount of books. He seemed to appreciate the Modernists - Hemingway, Faulkner, Eliot, Woolf, etc. - as well as quite a lot of Mark Twain’s works. He even had books I didn’t recognize that looked to be simply ancient. I chose
The Winter of Our Discontent
by John Steinbeck. It sounded like a pretentious enough book to impress him, but may still be easy to read. I considered a Faulkner book, but I wasn’t in the mood to want to tear my hair out from the difficulty of it.

I sat next to him to read. He still read whatever book he happened to be reading. I tried to sneak a look, but he had the book folded over so he could read it easier. He looked up briefly as I tried to crane my neck to look.

“It’s
On the Road
,” he said. “I’m working on being a hipster since I already look like one.”

I laughed, “I guess the natural step in your book collection is to move on to Jack Kerouac.”

“That’s what I thought too. What are you reading?”

“I got a Steinbeck book.”

“Ah, good choice. I’ve inherited a lot of books from college students leaving them in the woods on hikes or picnics. Or, you know, whatever it is they do.”

“Party, probably.”

“That’s probably the right answer.”

We laughed and read in an amiable silence. Sitting with him, I forgot about all of my self-esteem issues. He didn’t seem at all concerned with the size of my hips or my weight in any way. With that, I didn’t feel him judging me for my curvy body.

As the days went on, we spent more and more time together. By sitting and reading with him, I became increasingly more comfortable. He had a kind air about him.

He also complimented me often on how beautiful I looked, even though I had to start wearing some of his clothes - or clothes he’d found - and hadn’t worn make-up for days.

He made sure I had every convenience he could acquire - he’d get water for me to take a bath and make sure it was hot, cook my meals, and make sure I was sleeping okay.

Though he admitted he spent most of his time alone, he didn’t seem anti-social or apathetic to my needs in any way. Even though we’d met through the most terrifying experience of my life, I felt like I lucked out, in a way.

Beyond him simply making sure I lived comfortably, Dorian also acted as though he became more attracted to me as the days went on.

If I turned at the right time, I’d catch him looking at me. He’d turn away quickly or act like he was looking at something else, like he was a grade school kid staring at his crush.

He’d also touch me whenever he got the chance, whether it be just brushing by or touching my arm to get my attention. Every time he did, I felt a tingling jolt run through my body. I’d been so afraid to interact with a man, but now that I had one in my general proximity, I craved his touch.

On the sixth day, I felt more courageous than I ever had. Through the days, I felt increasingly more connected to him. From when I woke up, he seemed even more affectionate toward her. When I entered the room, his eyes softened and he smiled wider.

We made excuses to be closer to each other - I had him select a book for me, he then had me help him try to understand a line in the book he read (while I scooted closer to him to read it with him), and we started doing a finger-painting art project together, for whatever reason.

At dinner time, I decided to cook with him, having him show me how to debone the fish he’d caught.

“I’m so impressed with how self-sufficient you are,” I said as I worked on the fish myself.

“Living out here does have its perks,” he answered.

“How did you learn how to do all this?”

“My dad was an avid outdoorsman, so he taught me how to do everything. I think when he died was when I decided to just… live on my own out here.”

“What about your mom?”

“She left us when I was a kid. My dad said she wasn’t really meant to be a mother.”

“My mom wasn’t really meant to be a mother either, but she stuck around.”

He smiled, “Right.”

I smiled back, meeting his eyes. We stood there for longer than was necessary, just smiling and staring into each other’s eyes. Slowly, he leaned forward.

I froze, not sure what to do and having no ability to push him away because my fingers were covered in fish. He came closer, so close I could feel his warm breath, and kissed me.

His scruff rubbed against my face, but it, somehow, felt nice and right. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and bring him closer, but the fish. We both smiled when he pulled away, still lost in each other’s eyes.

“I couldn’t help it,” he said softly. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for days.”

“So have I,” I answered. “Though, I do admit, it’s not as nice with fish on my hands.”

He laughed, “I’m sorry, I found you so sexy taking apart that fish.”

"I've heard that's an aphrodisiac, for sure."

He laughed, "I've heard that too."

We continued making dinner, talking and laughing as we did so. Something about him felt special, like I could enjoy being with him for the rest of my life. If you can read quietly with someone and still enjoy them, I'd say they are the one.

He set out a nice eating area for us, as if we were at a four-star restaurant. He put a lot of effort into making it feel romantic. And that, really, is the most romantic thing of all.

"I think my hunter friends should be back tomorrow," he said. "So, I guess this is our last night together."

"I guess it is."

"I know this hasn't been the greatest of circumstances, but I hope you've enjoyed yourself here. I've tried to make it comfortable."

"I have enjoyed myself. Thank you for helping me."

"Of course." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "I've enjoyed you being here. If I had it my way, I'd like you to stay."

"That would be nice, but I do want to let my friends and family know I'm okay."

"Yes, of course. I guess what I'd like to say is... I think I love you."

I could feel my mouth hanging open in shock, but I answered with all I could think to say, "I think I love you too."

"Really?" he grinned.

"Yes, I think so. I was just thinking that a man you can read with and still enjoy is the kind you spend the rest of your life with." I mentally kicked myself. That's not something you say to someone you just met.

"I was thinking that too," he said with a serious look, and then grabbed my hand. "Lorena, when we get out of this, would you consider marrying me?"

My smile stretched across my face, "Yes, I would."

He smiled too, his eyes twinkling with happiness. We ate with a sense of euphoria - everything seeming completely perfect. We talked and laughed like a true couple in love, something I never thought would happen to me (especially after just six days.) After dinner, we cleaned up together, acting as though we were already married.

“I didn’t know if I would like the fish, but it was really good,” I said after we’d washed the dishes. “I normally don’t.”

“I used to not be very fond of fish either, but I like it more now that I’m catching and cooking it myself,” he responded.

“I did help you cook it, so…”

“Maybe that’s why it was so much better.”

“I think so.”

He walked forward and kissed me again, this time with more passion. I melted into his touch, willing to do whatever he wanted. As we kissed, our hands searched each other’s bodies, tracing maps along the expanse of our skin.

Without a word, we moved to his room, our lips not separating except to maneuver through the house. He led me to his bed, where he laid me down.

His lips touched every inch of my body, every curve, every imperfection. His breath made every inch of my skin tingle and radiate with desire. Before he slid inside me, he kissed me tenderly.  He made my whole body feel warm and completely in ecstasy.

I never imagined anyone would be able to make me feel completely comfortable and happy in my own skin.