Frostbitten (8 page)

He hadn’t moved to cover himself, and his quizzical expression told her he wasn’t even aware of his nudity. “What makes you think that?”

Where should she begin? She backed up until she could sit in her own chair again and curled up on the cushion. She needed distance from his touch in order to think clearly.

“You got me thinking when you arrived here and declared that my father could control the weather. I woke up in the middle of the night bombarded with thoughts, my mind racing. I listened to the storm and concentrated on the subtle nuances of its rhythm. It had slowed dramatically while I slept and picked up the tempo when I grew stressed.

“It reacts to my emotions.” She glanced up at his weary expression. “I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out. I actually decided to try to control it, with my feelings. And it worked. When I relaxed my body entirely and concentrated on calming the storm, it slowed, the wind died down and the whistling ceased. When I switched my focus to frustrating thoughts and tensed my body, the storm picked up.”

Zephyr wasn’t buying into her idea. He shook his head. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a coincidence? I mean, you said yourself this thing…” he waved his hand back and forth between them, “…wasn’t something you would have chosen. So, why would you trap us in here?” He raised both eyebrows, super proud of himself.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’m telling you there’s a connection. There’s more.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, willing herself to share her childhood secrets. “I have memories of controlling the weather in the past. I’ve done it my entire life. I just didn’t realize it at the time. I thought it was a coincidence. I never put much merit into the idea I had some effect on the environment.

“I instinctively knew my mother wouldn’t have been receptive to the idea, so I never told a soul.” Adonia stared at Zephyr, and bless his heart, he didn’t mock her in any way.

“Go on.” He leaned forward on his knees, still naked. Staring at his body was distracting, so she tried to keep her eyes above the waist.

“Do you suppose I may have inherited this ability from my father?”

“It’s possible. Though I haven’t met anyone who could compete with Jack’s abilities. You are his daughter, however.” He smiled. He wasn’t repulsed by the concept.

“My mother spoke very little of him. I had no idea what he was capable of or how powerful he was.”

“He’s a powerful man, but it’s also likely your mom didn’t know the extent of it. Especially if she was only with him one night.”

Hmmm. That seemed feasible. Adonia fiddled with the elastic hem of her sweatshirt, tugging it over her knees.

“Do you remember specific incidences from when you were young?”

“A few.” She lifted her gaze to the one small window in the cabin, now completely covered with snow. “Most of my experiences were the result of something my mother would say. For example, if she complained about a lack of rain, I made it rain. If there was too much rain, I made it stop. It was like a game to me. I felt powerful, as though I were truly controlling the environment even though I knew it was ludicrous. My success rate spoke volumes, however.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

“It doesn’t make you want to run for the hills? What kind of a freak am I?”

He grinned and shook his head. “You’re fantastic. I’m never running from you. Nothing you could do would send me away.”

She gulped. “I think you’re onto something.”

“What?” He cocked his head.

“I believe I have done something to keep you from running.”

“What? This little storm?” He chuckled. “You didn’t have to snow me in to keep me, baby. I’m mated to you now. And there was little chance of that not happening even before I entered your home.” He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re responsible for this one, Adonia. If you were, why didn’t it stop after you had me roped in?” he teased.

Was he dense? It seemed so obvious to her. She stared at him hard until his face fell into a more serious expression.

He continued. “Ahh, because you don’t want me to leave…” His voice trailed off. He wasn’t angry at all, just speculative. “Huh. That’s awesome.”

“How is this a good thing?” He
was
crazy. “We’re both trapped in this small cabin indefinitely, and it’s my fault, and you’re not even pissed off about it.”

He stood and stepped toward her, his fine body swaying as he stalked her with his eyes. When he reached her chair, he set his hands on the arms and leaned toward her until their faces were nearly touching. He spoke low and clear. “You’re my mate. I go where you go.” He kissed her nose. “You don’t have to trap me anywhere. I’m already a sure thing. I was a sure thing from the moment I first scented you up on that crest yesterday. You didn’t even know I existed yet.”

She grinned and shook her head. “You’re wrong about that.”

“What do you mean?” He nibbled a path to her ear and sucked the lobe between his lips, making it hard to concentrate. Finally he pulled back and resumed his stare into her eyes.

“I knew you were there first. Hell, to be honest, I saw you coming earlier in the day.” She gasped and brought her hand to her chest. “Holy shit.” She shoved him out of her way and jumped to her feet to pace the limited space in front of the fireplace. “I really did. I even knew what you looked like. I just thought I was daydreaming.”

“And this didn’t seem odd to you when you saw me?” His puzzled look and tilted head made her pause.

“No, because I do it all the time. It didn’t even make me flinch.” She slapped her head.
I’m so dense
.

“Do what all the time? Tell the future?” He stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Nothing rattled this man. Not even her weird ability to predict things. “Honestly, I should have suspected. Frost is the king of unusual powers. Are you clairvoyant?”

“What’s that?” She squirmed in his arms, well aware of his nudity. Did he always wander around naked? She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to that idea.

He laughed, tipping his head back and squeezing her tight.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your telepathy is intact, or at least mine is. I can hear your thoughts. I didn’t notice it before. I could only feel your stress.”

She flushed, realizing what she’d been thinking about. His naked body. “You’re in my head.”

“Well, to be honest, it’s more like feelings I can sense than anything else. I’m sure you can too, if you stop to concentrate.”

She stared at him and closed her eyes for a moment. His shaft pressed into her belly even though he’d just had two orgasms this morning already. He wanted her again, but that didn’t take telepathy. She opened her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not feeling anything.”

“You’re probably overloaded with the storm.”

She nodded.
Perhaps
.

“Anyway, clairvoyance is when you know all about something just from touching it. Have you ever had that experience?”

Shit
.

“You have.” He smiled.

She squirmed from of his grasp once again. Every time he laid a hand on her, she lost the ability to think. “You have to understand. I’ve been alone here my entire life with just immediate family as visitors. I had no idea anything about me was unusual until you showed up.”

“But, what about your mother? You must have had some sense that things weren’t quite normal, or you wouldn’t have kept your abilities a secret from her.”

She shook her head. “You have it backward. I thought
she
was the strange one. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I guess.” She wandered toward the kitchen area to get more coffee. She could go a long time without eating. Her wolf side ensured that. But coffee, that was another story. “So, when you touch things, you don’t get a feeling about them? That’s just me?”

“Well, your father does too, but no, not the rest of us. Maybe you have other siblings with similar abilities.”

She grabbed the coffee and scooped some into the filter. On impulse, she grabbed a handful of the grounds and let them fall through her fingers. She closed her eyes, experimenting with her newly named talent. Central America…somewhere tropical…harvested by men and women with darker skin than her own and black hair…

She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. “Holy hell, Adonia. You can tell all that?”

She dropped the grounds, letting the last of the deep rich coffee spill between her fingers back into the bag.

“You’re incredibly educated for someone raised this far from civilization.”

“It was one thing my mother insisted upon. She had my grandparents bring me books every time they came. I’m well read, that’s for sure. Most of my adventures have been in my head. You can travel to amazing places with a little imagination.” She grinned up at him, but his expression caught her breath.

He stared down at her with admiration and…jealousy, not a hint of antipathy.

“When I was a child, I knew things. I sometimes struggled to eat when my mother took me hunting. It took years for me to learn to block the thoughts I had when I touched my food. I could visualize perfectly a deer’s family, its offspring, its parents, its habitat…” She sucked in a deep breath. “I thought I just had a vivid imagination most of my life. I might become a vegetarian now.” She grinned.

“That must have been difficult…and lonely.” He stroked her back.

She didn’t lower her gaze, knowing what his nudity did to her physically every time she glimpsed his lower body.

“What can you tell about me?” He froze, his hand rigid on her back as he clearly struggled not to release his contact with her.

She turned to pour the coffee now that it had finished percolating, effectively breaking the connection with Zephyr. “Honestly, nothing.” She stepped back toward the fire. “Other than knowing you were coming, I can barely read you. It’s disconcerting. Especially now that the pieces are starting to fall together.”

“Huh.”

“What do you suppose it means?” She resumed her seat.

“Well, again, I’m betting you’re so focused on the storm, your other senses are being pushed aside temporarily. Perhaps when you let go of your need to keep me as your own personal sex slave, you’ll regain some of your other abilities. It’s just an idea. But, it makes sense. It must take a hell of a lot of energy to maintain this level of blizzard conditions.”

“Ha ha.”
My sex slave. Ugh
.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. But, if you want me to worship your body day and night, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to actually hold me hostage. I’m a sure thing.” He stepped in front of her and knelt before her, bowing dramatically as though she were his queen.

“You’re so witty,” she stated flatly, shoving him away from her ineffectively.

Instead he set his hands on her thighs and spread them apart, his gaze on her lap. “I don’t like this sweatshirt.” He fiddled with the edge, stroking the material with his fingers.

“I don’t see why not. It’s warm and comfy, and it keeps your attention focused on my face.”

He shook his head. “If that’s what you think, it’s not working. I too have a vivid imagination.” He lifted his gaze toward hers and closed his eyes.

She sucked in a breath as his palms rode up her thighs, spreading them wider and pushing the material out of his way. When he reached her sex, he spread her open with his thumbs. “I know just what you look like even with this giant cotton contraption in the way.”

He stroked both thumbs through her slit, making her stomach knot with renewed need.

“Your pussy is pink and swollen from my touch. You’re so wet I could slide right inside you if I wanted. The sweatshirt can’t hide that from me. I can smell it. And the photos in my head are sharp and clear.”

He reached higher until he grazed her nub. “Your clit is full and has protruded from its hood ever since I first crested that hill to the west. Your blood flows steadily toward the tiny ball of flesh, keeping you aroused even when you would prefer to deny it.”

She gripped the arms of the chair, berating her body for being such an open book.

He flattened his palms and soothed them up her body until he cupped her breasts. The sweatshirt rose with his forearms, leaving her exposed from the waist down. He’d inched between her legs on his knees and held them open with his torso.

“Your tits are also engorged and firm and tender with your need.” He stroked the very tips of his fingers over her nipples. “I bet you’ve never experienced anything like the points your nipples have become since I arrived.” He pinched them for emphasis, and she bucked against his hands.

She both hated and loved how he could play her.

He lifted the shirt higher and pulled it over her head. His eyes remained closed the entire time. He cupped her face now and rubbed his thumbs over her lips until she opened her mouth. “Your lips are pink and full, swollen and tender like your pussy from my kisses.”

Her gravelly voice came out. “My lips weren’t covered by the sweatshirt,” she mumbled.

He smiled and lowered his face to kiss her. “I love your scent. Hell, I love everything about you. I hate it when you mask yourself with clothing. If I had my way, you’d remain naked forever.” He opened his eyes to gaze into hers. “If you insist on holding me hostage, I may have to burn your clothes so we can stay warm,” he teased.

“Funny,” she murmured. Her eyes glazed over as he lowered his hands to her breasts again. She loved the way he fondled them, circling the areolas with just the tip of a finger until she couldn’t stand the suspense.

“Relax. Concentrate on feeling. You’re too tense. Let it go.”

Let what go?
Hadn’t she let
it
go several times in the last twenty-four hours?

He rubbed her belly with his palms and then grasped her thighs again. He inhaled long and slow, his gaze never leaving hers. “So fucking hot, baby. Your scent keeps my cock hard all the time. You can’t hide it with clothing.”

“I see that.” She glanced down and moaned. The man was hung. Well, she assumed he was. She had no comparison, but she’d seen pictures in books. Mostly of Greek statues. Were those accurate?