Read The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection Online
Authors: Hazel Hunter
Tags: #Erotic Romance
“Emily,” he whispered, still inside her, as he wrapped his arms around her.
Her eyes closed and the last thing she felt was him softly stroking her back.
• • • • •
Austin heated the water while Emily slept.
He’d taken up chunks of ice from under the caribou hide near the perimeter of the igloo and dug down a couple inches to make sure it was clean. He was bringing the water to a boil in a metal camping pot over the flaming
kudlik
. Two foil packets of instant pasta Bolognese waited to the side.
He heard her stirring and watched as she felt for him on the skin. When she realized he wasn’t there, she suddenly sat up. She quickly swiveled her head and saw him and the worried expression vanished.
“Good evening,” he said, smiling.
“Evening?” she said, with a little smile.
She rapidly ran the fingers of one hand back through her hair and she brought the bearskin up in front of her with the other, oddly self-conscious.
“Hope I didn’t wake you,” he said. “I think it’s about midnight but I was starving.”
Her face was surprised.
“Oh my god,” she said. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Lunch,” he said as he took the water away from the flame.
He wore his snow gloves so that he could hold the metal handle of the simple pot. He nodded to the seal clothing.
“If you want to get up, you might want to put on those clothes. It’s still a bit chilly in here.”
She glanced at the traditional clothes and back to him. He had brought his regular clothes for the trip back and was wearing his ski pants and flannel shirt. She glanced at the sealskin clothes one more time and then looked at him. She waited. Then she cleared her throat.
Oh, he thought. Of course.
He purposely averted his eyes and made himself busy with the pasta. He heard her moving behind him and the rustling of the clothes. When he’d put the pot down and sealed the foil bags, he turned his head a little and stole a peek.
She was stunning, even with her back to him. The pants were already on but she was just lifting the parka over her head. The loose waistline of the pants had sunk to her hips and he marveled at her hourglass shape. He blinked at the base of her back–it was dimpled. He didn’t know a person could get dimples there. He cocked his head, staring, and suddenly wondered what it’d be like to have his lips there. As the parka dropped into place, she turned but he’d forgotten to look away.
“Um,” he said, unable to think of a single coherent thought.
She looked at him, tilting her head to the side, and then she did the most adorable thing. She giggled. Then, she scrunched up the loose leggings so she wouldn’t trip on them and quickly came over. As she knelt opposite him, he realized she was absolutely swimming in his clothes–and he liked it. He cleared this throat.
“Do you like pasta?” he said.
“I think, at this point, I like anything.”
The low flickering light of the oil lamps danced in her eyes. The pale blue of them had turned to a shade that seemed closer to the blue of summer’s midnight. He realized he was staring.
“It takes eight minutes to cook,” he said abruptly and looked down at the packets.
It was strange to think that they’d made love and yet it was awkward to watch her dress or gaze into her eyes. The thought brought him up short.
They’d made love.
He smiled a little, no longer seeing the foil packets. No description of what they’d done could ever come close to how it’d felt. His smile grew. Why did people use words like “the birds and the bees” when they tried to talk about it? Why not–
His breath caught and he stared at Emily.
“Could you be pregnant?”
She was leaning forward, reading one of the pasta labels, but she quickly sat up straight.
“What?” she said, obviously taken by surprise but quickly recovering. “I mean no.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised.
“You can’t have kids?” he said.
She blinked once.
“Oh, no, I mean … I thought you were asking …”
She paused and took a breath.
“Okay,” she said, with a little smile. “I assume I can have kids but I use a contraceptive implant.” She touched her inner arm. “With all the travel and the monthly stuff, it’s easier.”
Monthly
stuff
, Austin thought. What stuff?
“You know,” she said, watching his face. “It really helps with the cramps and ….” She stopped. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
Austin shook his head.
“Wow,” she said and ran one hand through her hair. “Well, let’s just say it makes life easier.”
Her face was flushing red. Suddenly, she checked the water pot.
“Looks like there’s extra water,” she said. “I’ll make some tea.”
Austin could only watch as she quickly went to her backpack. He was pretty sure he didn’t understand what had just happened or how an implant worked, but it seemed like pregnancy wasn’t a worry.
At the thought, though, he realized he
hadn’t
been worried. He frowned a bit. Not worrying seemed a little crazy. Maybe there hadn’t been enough time to actually
get
worried.
Emily brought back a plastic sandwich bag with several flat bags of tea. Her face was only a shade of pink now.
“Green tea okay?”
“You bet,” he said, nodding.
She gingerly laid a couple of bags in the water.
“Hopefully the pot will cool enough by the time we want it,” she said.
He handed her a spork and one of the pouches and took the other and opened it. She opened hers.
“That smells
amazing
,” she said.
It did. He hadn’t realized just how starving he was. They ate in silence for a few minutes. The penne was coated with a red meat sauce and green peas were mixed in as well.
Although he hadn’t lied when he said he was starving, it wasn’t the real reason he’d woken up. She had had a nightmare and, as far as he could tell, it had been nearly identical to her hallucination. The piteous whimpering ate at him. He couldn’t stand the thought of her being hurt.
“You have bad dreams,” he said quietly into his pasta.
She started to cough. Then she set the foil bag down as she continued coughing. He looked up at her.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded but kept coughing.
He set his pouch down and touched the rim of the pot. It was plenty cool, as expected in the cold. He passed it to her and she took it in both hands and took a sip. She passed it back and coughed a little bit more before she could talk.
“Just went down the wrong way,” she whispered.
She cleared her throat.
“Eat,” she said, her voice firmer. “I’m fine.”
He picked up the bag and finished it but she didn’t touch hers again.
She wasn’t fine–far from it.
Way to go, he thought.
“Fifty-five degrees,” he said.
She’d been staring into space but looked at him.
“I’m sorry. Did you say fifty-five degrees?”
He nodded.
“That’s the temperature in here.”
“Really?” she said, looking around.
“Really,” he answered. “Depending on the temperature outside, the difference might be as much as eighty degrees.”
“Wow,” she said, and then paused. “Why doesn’t it melt?”
Good, he thought. She seemed genuinely curious now. Whatever that nightmare was, she’d stopped thinking about it.
“It is melting,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“
What
?”
“It’s a constant process of melting and freezing, melting and freezing. It actually helps to thicken the insulation.”
“That’s amazing,” she said looking at the dome.
“People find it hard to believe that just a couple of
kudliks
can do the job. Well,
kudliks
and body heat.”
At that, she looked at him. Her little smile had returned.
Suddenly, there was a loud crack. Austin quickly grabbed her and yanked her away from the sound. Small chunks of ice dropped on the opposite side of the igloo. The middle in that section was bulging outward.
“Oh no,” he said.
He let Emily go and stood.
She stood too.
“Austin, what is it?”
“Bad workmanship,” he said.
He put on his parka, goggles and gloves and also added a headlamp, that he turned on.
“I was in a hurry,” he said, moving the backpacks from the entrance.
The howl of the gale hit them like a train whistle. He turned and picked up the shovel.
“The bottom row of blocks isn’t at the perfect angle,” he said turning to her. “I need to pack it in, make sure it doesn’t move any further.”
The look on her face was stricken.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He glanced at the dome near the bulge.
“Don’t go over there,” he said.
She nodded.
He raised his goggles, flipped up the hood of his parka, and crawled into the passageway.
ARCTIC EXPOSURE
An Erotic Expedition Novella
PART 2
By Hazel Hunter
It was a whiteout for sure. The gale nearly knocked Austin over and he held the shovel in both hands as it tried to escape. The sun had set hours ago and visibility was zero. He felt along the igloo and moved toward the back, the wind pushing him along.
Although Emily had asked him to make the igloo for her photo assignment, it had turned into their refuge. She was inside now, waiting for him. He could picture her. Even in the gale, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Had it only been a day since they’d met?
By the time he found the bulge in the wall, he was in the lee of the wind. He furiously began shoveling ice and snow. The base blocks of the igloo hadn’t been set at the exact right angle. He’d been in a hurry for the photo shoot and it had never occurred to him that they’d actually stay in it. Now, it was the only thing between them and the storm.
He quickly built up the berm at its base and frantically shoveled more snow into the bulging section. He tamped it down and repeated the process and then built the berm even higher. He was breathing hard and had to take a break. The muscles of his arms were burning.
He shoveled more and only stopped when he was sure that the bulging blocks couldn’t move. He stopped, panting now, his lungs burning as well. It looked like it would hold. As he headed back to the entrance, he rounded the igloo into the wind. Off balance, it knocked him against the igloo and the shovel fell to the ground. He didn’t even hear it clatter as it immediately skittered away and out of sight.
Had the wind grown stronger or was it just his imagination?
He pushed away from the igloo and turned his face from the wind to get a breath. The gale was moving so fast, it was making it hard to get oxygen. His lungs burned and he gasped for air. He leaned forward, keeping one hand on the igloo and tried to make progress against the wind. He lifted one foot and put it down, then the other and put it down. He was tired. He’d waited too long to eat. Done too much in one day.
Where is the entrance?
He looked up just as the snowmobile crashed into him.
He grunted loudly as one of the handles jabbed his stomach and then the weight of the entire machine smashed him into the igloo. His ribs collided with it and the little air that he had was knocked out of his lungs.
The snowmobile slid away from him, carried by the gale and he fell to his knees, trying to breathe and holding his stomach. The pain was sapping the last of his strength.
• • • • •
What could be taking so long?
Emily paced in the small space. The tamping sound at the back of the igloo had stopped minutes ago. The gale seemed to be rising in pitch.
Where is Austin?
She reached down to the drawstring of the sealskin pants–his pants. After she had plunged through the broken ice into freezing water, he had cut her clothes off to save her from hypothermia. Then their shared bodily heat had unleashed deeper fires within them both.
She tied the drawstring as tight as she could. The clothes were too big by far, something that she’d suggested he wear for the photo shoot, but she was thankful to have them. She found her gloves, goggles, and headlamp in the backpack and quickly put them on. Now that she’d made the decision to go outside, it couldn’t happen fast enough. Austin should have been back by now.
Something was wrong.
And if something was wrong with Austin….
She quickly raised the hood of the parka and ducked into the entrance. As she emerged, she knew right away she wouldn’t be standing. The wind could hardly be called a wind. It was like a thing. A massive wall of force that would knock down anything in its path.
“Austin!” she called.
She could barely see her hands on the ground in front of her. Even so, the panic that had started to rise wasn’t for her. How could he survive out here for this long? She turned left at the opening and kept her left side against the igloo as the wind pushed her along.
“Austin!” she screamed.
After only a yard, she found him.
“Austin,” she screamed.
He was laying on his side, holding his stomach.
She scrambled to him and put her face close to his.
“Austin!” she yelled.
He moved.
Oh thank god!
“Emily,” his lips said, though the only sound was the gale.
He reached out to her.
She grabbed his hand, sat down, and tugged. With her back to the wind, she pulled him between her legs, as though she were rowing a boat. He helped by pushing with his feet. She leaned back, using the muscles of her torso and was nearly laying flat. Then she quickly sat up, scooted backwards, and they repeated the procedure. In under a minute, they were back at the entrance and making their way through the tunnel in the same way. The howling died away and, as she grunted and pulled him through, she heard him grunt as well. She let go of his hand and scrambled to her feet, not even bothering to take off the goggles.