Primal Calling (10 page)

Her skin was so supple, so soft. The fragrant scent of her expensive cologne, mixed with the tang of her feminine desire, sent an ache to his chest.

While he nibbled her earlobe, he could hear her breathing speed up, felt her breath against his temple. His hand traveled down her arm to her waist, gripped her hip then flattened his palm on her stomach. She bent her knee and rolled her pelvis up, encouraging him to slide his fingers beneath the lacy triangle covering her. It was soaking wet.

He made a pleased noise at discovering she was so eager for him and teased her opening with featherlight strokes until her squirming protest drove him to plunge a finger deep inside her. She gasped in his ear and he covered her mouth with his, his lips playing with hers.
His tongue entered her mouth and matched the rhythm of his finger thrusting inside her.

She whimpered into his mouth and writhed beneath him. Unable to wait any longer, he left her mouth and suckled her stiff nipple until the lacy bra was soaked through. “Yes, more,” she begged. He suckled harder, stroked her faster, and rubbed her swollen clit with his thumb until she cried out and her hips lifted off the mattress. Her arms hugged him tight, one hand on the back of his head as she yelled out her pleasure.

Her arms fell to her sides as she gulped in air, and he smoothed his hands over her body as she slowly came back to him. He could feel her ribs beneath his lips as he nibbled her alabaster skin, grasped behind her knee to roll her toward him and bent to kiss the back of her thigh.

“Mmm,” she moaned, her eyes closed. A smile curved her lips.

The tiny string of her thong ran between her taut butt cheeks and he tugged it out of the way and fondled her butt with both hands, parting the cheeks to run a lone finger between her thighs from behind.

She twisted under his arm and took his cock between her lips again, sucking him deep into her mouth while he continued to play with her. He could barely think beyond the feel of her heat and suction and tongue surrounding his erection. He could feel the tension building in his balls as he traced her spine with one finger, feeling every delicate vertebra and then followed the path with
his mouth, sweeping her long dark hair out of the way. Then he froze.

“How long have you had this?” He touched the tattoo on the back of her shoulder.

She came up for air, but still encircled his twitching cock in her palm and played with him mercilessly. “My owl? I got it done in college. Total nerd head, huh?”

“Why did you choose an owl?”

She shrugged. “I've always collected owls. Since I saw one in the woods when I was a little girl camping with my family.”

Before he could fully absorb the information, she continued her assault on his cock. He couldn't contain his groan. “Don't know how long I'll last with you doing that.”

“You're one to complain.” She wiggled her bottom where his fingers still played with her damp folds. Then her mouth consumed him again, sucking hard as she moved up and down his length.

“Okay, enough.” He cupped her face and pulled her lips to his. He moved over her, parting her thighs with his knees. Both bra straps hung down her arms and something about her having it on made his blood race even faster. But he wanted to see her. Gripping the edges of the bra, he pulled it down until her breasts popped out above it. With a soft groan of appreciation he cupped them and caressed them, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and fingers.

“Having a good time?” She smirked at him but her
breathing had sped up again—she was enjoying it as much as he.

“I think I could play with these for days, maybe weeks.” He grinned, and she lost her smile and cupped his face.

“This is the first time I've seen you smile.”

He stopped smiling and took her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue around the tip and nibbling with his lips.

Between gasps, she said, “Come inside me, Max.”

Letting her nipple pop out of his mouth, he reached for a packet in his bedside drawer and rolled on protection. Gripping her hip in one hand, he pulled her thong down and off one leg. She giggled as they struggled getting it off and he thought he'd remember that sound forever.

He fitted himself to her and thrust in, gritting his teeth not to come right then and there. A rough moan escaped as he pulled out and plunged back in. “Serena.” His eyes closed as he pressed soft kisses on her breasts.

Every time he pushed in she voiced her encouragement, gripping his hips with her thighs. He loved that she wasn't shy about expressing her satisfaction. She was right there with him, clutching his butt, digging her nails into his back as he pushed inside her.

Fire burned in his veins, his heart pounded and his balls tightened. He raised his head to look into her cobalt-blue eyes, wrapped an arm beneath her hips and thrust hard and deep one last time. The room spun. He
couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. Behind his closed eyes he saw a vision. He was wandering in a dark fog, lost—had been lost for years. A white owl appeared on a branch and he knew he was supposed to follow it home.

“Max?”

He couldn't lift his head. His lids were so heavy.

“Max, are you okay?” She shook his shoulders, then finger-combed his hair off his forehead and caressed his scalp.

Gulping in air, he opened his eyes and was back in his bedroom. He must be suffocating her. Feeling weak as a newborn pup, he pushed up and rolled to his side. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I think you passed out.”

“Well, that's impressive.” He wiped a hand down his face and finally met her gaze. She was smiling at him. That was a good sign. “Did you…?”

“Oh, yes. I'm good. Or, you're good.” She turned on her side to face him. “We're both good.” Her bright smile reassured him and he closed his eyes again. Exhaustion washed over him. But something inside him felt different. Lighter. In both senses of the word. Not as heavy. And not as dark.

The last thing he remembered was Serena snuggling in next to him.

S
ERENA WOKE UP
just as Max came out of the bathroom wearing only jeans.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

She smiled, admiring his long, lean body in the jeans. They rode low on his narrow hips and his chest was just muscular enough to tell his brawn came from hard work, not a fancy gym membership meant to impress. “Good morning,” she mumbled.

“How about pancakes?”

“Mmm, sounds good.” She stretched and rolled to get out of bed.

“I'll get them started.” But he didn't move. His gaze followed her as she padded naked to the bathroom. “Good thing you wore me out an hour ago or you'd have to wait on breakfast.”

Once she got to the kitchen, wearing only his sweatshirt, he already had a pancake cooking in the skillet. It smelled wonderful. “I need to learn how to do this.”

“Here you go.” He handed her the spatula. “It's ready to turn over.”

“Oh man. Okay. Here goes nothing.” She slid the utensil under the pancake, or she thought she did. She ended up folding the thing in half.

“Hmm…you weren't kidding. Let's try it again.” He slid behind her, wrapped his arms around her and took her hand in his. “It's all in the wrist.” He poured more batter in, and then started nibbling on her neck.

She pressed her bottom back against his erection and he growled as he slid a hand under her—his—sweatshirt and cupped her breast. Serena twisted to kiss him, languid and leisurely, exploring his mouth with her tongue.

Then she smelled the odor of something burning. She spun back to see smoke rising from the skillet. “No,” she wailed.

Max grabbed the skillet, tossed it into the sink and ran the cold water. He rubbed his eyes, and then dropped his hands to his hips. “You really weren't kidding when you said you couldn't cook.”

“That was so not my fault. And I didn't say I couldn't cook.” Unable to hold her mock glare, she grinned. “I just said I liked to eat.”

He stepped close and folded her in his arms. “I noticed that last night.”

She giggled and the grin on his face was just too cute.

“How about oatmeal?” he offered. “Can you boil water?”

“Ooh!” She snapped the towel at him, but he dodged it easily enough.

The way he looked up at her, his eyes twinkling, smiling so relaxed, it was hard to believe only yesterday he'd been trying to get rid of her.

He kissed her, long and deep. She kissed him back, and it was either go back to bed or get some clothes on. And not because she was freezing.

Mickey stuck his cold nose on her thigh, and she flinched, breaking the kiss. “My feet are freezing.” She searched the den for her socks, and then hopped on one foot as she put them on.

Even smaller than Evelyn's, Max's cabin was sparse compared to his grandmother's. No artwork or knick knacks, only a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelf lining most of one wall.

The shelves were crammed with both hardbacks and paperbacks. Hopelessly curious, she perused his selections and found them unexpectedly fascinating.
History of the Klondike
,
The Notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci,
Twain's
Life on the Mississippi
and
Propagation of Intensive Laser Radiation in Clouds
. Plus several shelves full of mysteries and thrillers. And lying across the top of some paperbacks was a photo that looked like it'd been crumpled up and then straightened out.

She glanced at the kitchen doorway. Max was still in there making their oatmeal. Serena picked it up and turned it to the light. It was of Max when he was young and beardless. He couldn't have been much more than
eighteen, standing with his arm around the waist of an even younger, obviously pregnant Iñupiat girl.

His wife.

Max had a child? Where was the child now? What had happened to his wife and baby?

The man had layers to him she longed to peel away. She could take months getting to know him. But she had to be in Buenos Aires next week. Plus she'd made a deal with Max to leave after he took her to Shishmaref. Would he still hold her to that?

“Oatmeal's ready.”

Serena jumped and put the photo back.

He followed her action and then looked back at her, his eyes wary.

Maybe it was just her guilty conscience. But it wasn't as if she'd gone rummaging around in a desk or something. Which he didn't have.

“You have an eclectic mix of books,” she said as she went to join him in the kitchen.

“What do you like to read?” He moved his laptop off the table and set the two bowls and spoons down.

“I like all kinds of fiction, and some nonfiction. Biographies are my favorite. And history. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on a copy of that
Notebooks of Da Vinci.
” She nodded her head in the direction of the bookshelf.

“You can take that one.”

“Oh, I didn't mean—I can find it—” He was offering her something of his. The offer seemed to mean more
than the loaning of a book. “I suppose I can mail it back to you when I'm done.”

And there it was. The elephant in the room. She still wanted an interview, and he still wanted her to leave Barrow tomorrow.

He stared at her, his frown returned. “How about I take you out on the snowmobile today. Show you something I think you'll like.”

“I've been skiing lots of times, but I've never ridden a snowmobile.”

“Dress warm. The place I want to take you is almost an hour away.”

 

M
AX MADE SURE
Serena bundled up before letting her outside. He handed her the spare helmet, then got on while she clicked the strap under her chin and threw her leg over the seat, settling in behind him.

“Ready?” he asked.

She gave him a thumbs-up and then wrapped her arms around his waist.

He liked having her arms around him as he sped across the snow. He could feel her at his back and every so often he would hear her sigh or gasp with appreciation for the beauty of this stark land.

Following the coastline still packed with ice, he headed east and finally reached the icy peninsula they called seal island.

“Oh, Max.” He loved hearing the awe in her voice. It was a large spotted seal community, lying around on the outcrop of rocky land.

He was lucky the seals were here. They moved around to different places. “We can't get too close. There might be polar bears around, plus, you could scare them into the sea.”

“They're magnificent.” Pulling off her helmet, she left the snowmobile and lifted her camera, filming as she moved closer.

Max followed her, checking the snow for bear prints. None here today, so far.

As she recorded the seals through her viewfinder, Serena wasn't watching where she walked, and he grabbed her elbow to keep her off the slippery ice. Finally she turned the camera off, stuck it back inside her parka and just watched the seals.

Dropping back, Max turned to watch for polar bears. He didn't intend to get caught between a bear and the sea.

Without warning a snowball hit him hard on his right shoulder. He spun to see Serena bent over packing more snow into a tight ball. She looked up and grinned. The game was on.

As she sent her next missile flying, Max dove for the snowmobile as cover, scooped up a second handful and pitched it straight at her torso.

Bull's-eye!

Shrieking, she threw her snowball and only missed him because he ducked. While she threw another and missed, he built up an arsenal and pitched them one after the other as she screamed and darted, dodging most of
his volleys until one caught her in her long, brown hair hanging below her snow cap.

“All right.” She stopped and gave him a faux glare. “This means war.” She ran straight at him, scooping up a double handful of snow as she approached. Max kept pounding her with snowballs, trying to avoid her face. She reached him and jumped on him, rubbing the snow in his beard. He fell backward, taking her with him until they were rolling around in the snow laughing, each trying to stuff snow down the other's snowsuit.

Max stopped. She lay on him, smiling, her hair falling forward, so beautiful. He couldn't remember the last time he'd played like this. Maybe not ever. But it felt good to play with Serena, hear her laughter.

She brought her head down to his and kissed him, smoothing his hair out of his face with her gloves.

If he hadn't been lying down, her kiss would've brought him to his knees. She tasted of oats and wholesomeness. Sweet and feminine one minute, naughty and pulling his bottom lip between her teeth the next. He could lie here forever and kiss her and think he'd done enough with his life.

She was crazy to think she could save the world with her journalistic ambitions, but suddenly he wanted her to be right. He wanted her to succeed. He couldn't bear to see her hopes crushed. Someone with her noble intentions should win.

“Mmm, I love it when you kiss me like that.” Her lips curved up in a small smile.

“Like what?” The woman held nothing back.

“You started kissing me like this was your last moment on earth, and everything you are was in that kiss.” She dipped down and pressed small kisses to each corner of his mouth, to his temple and behind his ear.

What did he say to that? He grasped the back of her head and took her mouth, trying to put truth to her words. Rolling her to her back, he kissed her until she whimpered. Even wrapped completely in a thick snowsuit she turned him on.

“Do you have hot chocolate?”

Max lifted his head and blinked. “Uh, I have instant.”

“Perfect.” She grinned. “I can boil water.”

He rolled to his side, sat up and raised a brow. “This is what you're thinking of when I kiss you?”

She giggled. “Only because I'm freezing.” Getting to her feet, she raced for the snowmobile, calling behind her, “We can continue what we were doing in a warmer place.”

 

S
OMEHOW THE HOT CHOCOLATE
got put off until after a shared hot shower. By the time they were dried and dressed again, she was starving. Max opened a can of tomato soup and made the best grilled cheese sandwiches she'd ever eaten.

After lunch they took Mickey out for a romp in the snow, and this time after they returned, Max hauled in some large logs and built a roaring fire.

Serena curled up on the sofa with the
Da Vinci
book, wearing another set of his sweats, and Max seemed
content to lean back beside her with his hands clasped behind his head and his feet crossed on the coffee table.

After reading the same page three times she slid a glance his way.

He returned the glance. “What?”

“So, besides reading, and seal watching, and snowball fights, what else do you do in Barrow in your leisure time?”

“What? Those aren't exciting enough for you?”

“That's not what I meant. I'm just…asking about you.”

“Well, we've got exciting festivals every few months, with parades and sledding and dancing. We have—”

She gave up on the book and sat forward. “But I want to know about you, Max. What do you like to do?”

He shrugged. “I'm a pretty simple guy. I watch hockey. I read. I visit my grandmother.”

“And you fly cargo all over Alaska?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “And do the accounts for the North Slope Inn.”

“That's right. Chris said you were business partners. How'd that happen?”

Dropping his feet off the table, he unclasped his hands and leaned forward. “I met Chris in Texas. Went down there to visit my dad when he realized he wasn't going to last much longer.”

“Your dad has passed?” She leaned her back against the arm of the sofa and brought her knees to her chest.

“Lung cancer. Got sick right after I moved back to Barrow.”

“And he was a pilot also?”

Max nodded. “Career air force. When I first wrote to him about going to college down there, he welcomed me with open arms. Or, his new wife did anyway. They had three kids, and still let me stay there while I got my degree and my pilot's license.” He paused and stared off into space. “Anyway, Chris needed an investor, and Dad left me some money when he died. I told him about this old hotel Arnaaluk wanted to restore and the rest is history.”

“So, you brought them together?”

He grimaced. “And they never let me forget it.” He turned on the couch to face her. “What about you? What do you like to do in L.A.?”

“Everything. Dinner with friends, movies, concerts, clubs.” She stretched out her legs and put her feet in his lap.

“Barrow must seem pretty dull to you.”

“Oh, I don't know.” She rubbed the ball of her foot against his zipper. “I've managed to stay fairly occupied.” She looked at him from under her lashes and gave him a sultry smile.

His eyes flared, and she read the hunger in them. “Well, we try our best to entertain around here.” Leaning over, he cupped her face in his palms and kissed her, so tender, yet she sensed the desperate need beneath his restraint.

He grew harder and longer beneath her toes. “Feels like you're entertained, too.”

Before she could make her next move, he pushed her feet off and pulled her into his lap for a deeper kiss. She pressed against him, breast to hip and tangled her fingers in his hair.

Wrapping her tight in his arms, he lifted her as he stood and set her on her feet, then walked her toward the bedroom, shedding shoes and clothes along the way.

Yes, she wanted him inside her again.

They fell on the bed. The lovemaking was frantic at first, then tender and slow as he waited for her passion to build again. And only then, when she was ready, did he allow himself a faster rhythm. Their gazes met and held as she tumbled over the edge and watched as he let himself fall with her, and then drop to her side and relax into sleep.

She lay there a moment, rubbing her hands over the firm muscles of his chest and down his stomach. Breathing in, she inhaled his masculine scent. A mixture of old leather and sweat, with a hint of whatever soap he used. She rolled him to his back, but he mumbled something and didn't open his eyes.