Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Soothing is so far out of my wheelhouse it’s in the next kingdom.
I pull off her backpack and dump it behind the door. “Come here,” I grunt, taking her elbow and propelling her to my bathroom. She stands there, disoriented and docile as I fill the tub with tepid water.
I shuck her soaked leather gloves from her hands, then unzip her jacket and tug it off. Her eyes widen slightly, but she seems incapable of speech just yet.
“Gotta get your body temperature up,” I growl, peeling her sweater off next, then the sexy pink tank top I saw her in last night.
Her bra is also pink, and as much as I try not to look at her tits, I’m fucking dazzled by them when they tumble out. They’re big and bouncy. Creamy white with a smattering of copper freckles across the tops and between them.
The nipples—fuck, the nipples are perfection. A rosy-peach and harder than glass.
She has the wherewithal to cover her breasts—at least she tries, but her fingers aren’t working yet, so she holds them loosely in front of her face, like her fingers are broken, and uses her forearms to cover the nips.
After taking off her boots, I unbutton her jeans. She just stands there and lets me. I don’t know why the fuck she didn’t have snow pants on if she was going out in this blizzard.
I don’t know why the fuck she went out in this blizzard at all, but I intend to find out.
Later.
When she can speak.
Her jeans are frozen to her legs. I wince peeling them off her chafed red skin. I hope to fates she didn’t get frostbite.
“W-who are you?” she manages to say as I steady her hips and pull off her socks. Thank fuck they’re wool. Toes still look intact.
“I’m the guy who saved you from freezing to death.” It’s a shitty answer, but grouchy is my M.O.
When I try to pull down her panties—cotton, also pale pink—she catches them, or at least tries to.
“Fine,” I snap. “Leave them on.” I lift my chin toward the tub. “You’re getting in there.”
I steady her elbow and direct her into the bath. She yelps in pain when her foot comes in contact with the warm water. I was careful not to make it too warm, but I’m sure it still burns like hell.
“I know. It’s gonna hurt when the blood comes back into the area. Take it slow.” There. I can be somewhat civil.
She grits her teeth and leans on me to step her other foot in, sucking her breath in across her teeth.
“Now sit down in it. I have to deal with your dog.”
Her eyes fly wide. “Bear? Where’s Bear?” She tries to peer around me, which is cute, because I’m way too big to see past.
Her dog’s right behind me—totally underfoot. He gives a soft whine when he hears his name.
“Is he okay?”
My bear likes that she’s more worried about her dog than herself, but I’m not surprised. I already got the impression they’re tight. And that she’s an animal lover.
“He saved your fucking life,” I tell her.
“That’s not what I asked.” Her teeth chatter as she lowers herself into the tub, crying out when her butt hits the water.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to get your ass thawed out first.”
“Charming,” she mutters, gasping and wincing as she sinks in deeper.
As soon as I’m sure she’s not going to drown or anything, I grab a towel and throw it over her dog. It doesn’t do much good, because his thick fur is matted with ice and snow, which isn’t yet melted.
Fuck.
Somewhere, I think I have a hairdryer. It was Jen’s, but I kept it because it comes in handy on occasion. Not for hair, but for fix-it projects, like drying glue or wet plaster. I find it under the sink and plug it in.
“Dog,” I say sternly. The dog cowers.
“Why is my dog scared of you?”
I glance her way. She still appears shell-shocked. Barely alive. Confused. It irritates the fuck out of me because it’s clear how close she came to dying. If I hadn’t heard her damn dog…
I glance down at the reason she’s still breathing. He tucks his tail and drops his head submissively. “Because he recognizes me as alpha,” I say. And as a giant fucking black bear. Poor dog must be scared as hell, knowing on some level what I am.
I turn on the hairdryer, which discourages further questions. The dog stands there and takes it, hunching against the noise and blast of hot air. I keep it up until the snow has melted off him and his wet fur stinks up the bathroom.
It takes all my effort to avoid looking over at the naked scientist in my tub. In fact, I’m not even sure why I stayed in the same room with her. My concentration is being sorely tested. I should not be ogling her full breasts when her well-being still hangs on the line. Especially because it brings my ever-present bear even closer to the surface. Shit—my eyes are probably glowing yellow right now.