Oriana and the Three Werebears (8 page)

“You don’t want to do the rest yourself?”

When Oriana shook her head, he worked the mesh up her hips and across her torso, but no higher. She took a deep breath and pushed her chest out, silently indicating that he should attend that area as well.

Sensing his hesitation, she placed her hand over his and moved the puffy sponge back and forth over her breasts, her sexual desires overpowering any reservations she had about propriety. Unfortunately, the rubbing only served to whet the carnal cravings that resided within. She increased the pressure, writhing beneath the mesh material as it scrubbed over her taut nipples, which produced a delightful sting that shot rapid bursts of pleasure straight to her core. Her pussy throbbed, hovering near orgasmic bliss, but needing more stimulation to push her over the edge.

Intertwining her fingers with his, she guided the pouf down her length, and lower still, opening her thighs wide and brushing it against her swollen, sensitized nub. Up and down, up and down, harder and harder, she arched into it the mesh ball, gasping as she succumbed to a clitoral climax.

Flooded by the euphoric sensations that surged through her body, she clamped her thighs together and rode the waves of pleasure until she was limp and breathless.

Lost in a world of darkness and delight, she barely acknowledged Jack’s hand as it withdrew from between her legs. He lifted her out of the water and gathered her close to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder as he put a towel across her body and carried her from the bathroom.

After a long walk down the hall, he placed her on a bed and began to carefully dry her off. Her fatigue had returned in full force. She was almost asleep when she absently felt a warm blanket cover her body.

It was not enough.

“Lay with me, please,” she murmured. “I’m cold.”

There was a moment of stillness, then the mattress dipped with his weight. Once again, she was gathered into his arms. She snuggled close to him, and her last thoughts before sleep fully claimed her were of how wonderful he smelled.

After searching almost the whole bunker for signs of his older brother and their beautiful guest, Jordan, with Jon close on his heels, walked toward the only place he hadn’t explored yet. He stopped at the darken doorway to the lavish spare bedroom—a room he hadn’t really entered since Jon first decorated it. His younger brother insisted that they prepare it for the ‘special woman’ that would magically appear in their lives one day, saying how important it was for them to impress her so she’d want to stay.

Jordan felt along the wall until he found the light switch, then flipped it up. A soft glow filled the room.

He blinked twice to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

He wasn’t.

Jack was in the bed with Oriana.

“This is unexpected,” Jon whispered, grinning.

Jordan nodded in concurrence. This was the last thing he imagined he’d find. While his eldest brother was dressed, Oriana did not appear to be. The brocade comforter and flat sheet had slipped down to reveal the creamy smooth skin of her slender neck, beautifully shaped shoulders, and gorgeous breasts.

“Do you think he slept with her?” Jon asked softly.

“Well, obviously. He’s sleeping now.”

“No, I mean
slept
with her,” Jon emphasized. “You know, dicked her down.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jack murmured, his eyes fluttering open. “And watch your language.”

“What? Why?”

Jack gently tugged the sheet over Oriana before carefully untangling himself from her hold and sitting up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Because there’s a lady present.”

Oriana rolled over and buried herself deeper under the covers. “It’s okay,” she yawned. “I don’t mind.”

Jack rose to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. “I do.”

“Sorry Oriana, just ignore Jack,” Jon said in usual cheerful demeanor. “He’s always a grump in the morning. I, on the other hand—”

“Be quiet, Jon” Jack grumbled.

Muted laughter floated from the bed. Jordan hid his smile. The soft tinkling giggle was infectious, and it made his heart flip-flop. Unfortunately, the queerly pleasurable sensation was short lived due to the next question that left his older brother’s mouth.

“Did you two find the plane?”

“Yes,” Jordan and Jon replied in unison.

“And”

Jon exhaled heavily. “There’s noth—”

“—thing we can do to fix it right now,” Jordan interjected. “I’ll need some equipment from town.” He looked over at Jon, whose eyes widened with surprise. “Once dipshit—I mean dummy—here finds the keys to helicopter, I can acquire what I need to get the plane up and running.” He glanced at Oriana, who sat up and stared at him in interest. “Sorry about the slip in language.”

She smiled. “It’s okay... Jordan, right?”

He nodded, feeling nervous and excited, along with a slew of other giddy emotions all at once. His scientific logic kicked in, reminding him not to let his surging hormones damper the knowledge that could be garnered from the experience. After all, true sexual lust was not something he encountered often, and to actually be suffering from the condition made it that much more important that he remember every detail accurately so he could document it.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

Shit.
“Um... It’s very complicated. How do I explain...?” His mind searched for a workable lie that would not tip Jack off.

“I’m starving,” Jon piped in. “How about breakfast? Oriana, do you like chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Wonderful.” Jon grabbed Jordan by the arm and started pulling him toward the door. “We’ll go make them for you and bring them in here. You can have breakfast in bed.”

“Jordan, wait.” They both came to an abrupt halt at Jack’s order. “Before you go, take a look at Oriana’s back.”

“No, Jack,” she said. “Jordan, I’m fine, really. I just—”

Noting his brother’s concern, Jordan immediately pulled out of Jon’s grasp and went to the bedside. “Let me see.”

“No, it’s fine—”

“Let me see,” he reiterated sternly.

With a roll of her eyes, she clutched the blanket to her chest and leaned forward.

He was not prepared for the sight. His throat tightened as she fell back on the pillow. “You must be in a great deal of pain.”

“It looks worse than it really is. Promise.”

He placed the back of one hand on her cheek. Her skin was not clammy or moist, nor was she overly warm or feverish, and her eyes were clear. He then placed his index and middle finger on her neck, lightly palpating the carotid artery, checking her pulse against his watch. All seemed normal.

Jordan looked over his shoulder. “I want to check her abdomen for signs of internal hemorrhaging. I’ll only need a minute or two.” Catching the hint, his two brothers turned and headed for the door. As they left, Jordan called out, “Please get my medical bag and bring it with you when you return.”

He looked back to Oriana, who was smiling and shaking her head. “I’m fine. I’m not coughing up blood, I have no problem breathing, I have no fever, or any signs of setting infection or shock.”

“I believe you, but there is no harm in getting a second opinion.” He rolled the sheet down to her pelvic bone. With gentle, yet firm pressure, he pressed on her stomach and circled around her abdomen, feeling for any signs of swelling or hardness. He found none.

“See? I’m fine. Really. I just need some rest.”

He pulled the sheet back up. “I think you need to go to the hospital and get X-rays done.”
Sadly, you might not be staying long after all.

“I hate doctors, especially people ones. And I wouldn’t go to a hospital now, even if there was one located next door. Rest and hydration is all I need. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“Really?” Jordan was surprised to hear this. “What field?”

“Animal,” Jack offered, entering the room with the med kit in hand. He laid the bag on the bed. “She’s a vet, or at least she was one.”

“How did you know? —Oh, wait, that’s right...computer hackers.”

Jordan slid a glance at his brother as he pulled out a stethoscope and the sphygmomanometer to measure her blood pressure.
A veterinarian. How intriguing.

“Where’s your other brother?” she asked.

Jack shrugged. “He said something about making pancakes.”

After taking her vitals, and checking over her once more to be sure he hadn’t missed anything, Jordan looked over to Jack. “I think she’ll be okay.”

Nodding, Jack left.

“Is he always so stoic?” Oriana asked.

Jordan sighed. “If I had to categorize him by one of the Hellenistic schools of thought, then yes, he’d be a Stoic.”

She burst into laughter.

Her audible merriment did strange things to him. He could easily, and happily, sit there and listen to her express herself in such a way all day. Hmm...maybe he should check into that. Perhaps he had developed some kind of psychological disorder.

Oriana wiped moisture from her eyes. “And what about you, Jordan? What would you be?”

“As in what philosophy would I have followed had I been born in the ancient world?”

She nodded.

“Due to my skeptical nature, I assume I would have been a Pyrrhonist.”

Holding her stomach, she asked, “And Jonathan?”

“Oh, definitely an Epicurean.

“God, please stop making me laugh like this—it hurts.”

“Laughter is the best medicine, so the saying goes.”

“Not in my case. My muscles are too sore.”

Jordan was about to explain that some Gelotology research studies showed that laughter benefited the body in many ways, healing included, but Jon appeared at the door.

“Breakfast is served,” he said as he crossed the room, then placed the breakfast tray on her lap. “Chocolate chip pancakes as ordered.”

“Wow, thank you,” she beamed, studying the pancakes and the glass of apple juice. Unrolling the napkin, she retrieved her fork. “They smell wonderful.”

Jordan watched her dissect a piece of the fried batter and bring it to her slightly parted lips. She closed her mouth upon the fork, then slowly slid the utensil from the compressed seam.

Oriana moaned in culinary appreciation. “This is amazing. The best pancakes I’ve ever had. You should be a chef.”

“A chef is required to know how to prepare more than one dish,” Jordan explained. “That is the only dish he knows how to prepare.”

“Oh.” She picked up her glass and took a long drink, obviously trying to hide her smile.

Jordan didn’t bother hiding his.

Jon sat down on the opposite side of her. “Please ignore my highly intelligent, but socially inept brother. He doesn’t understand that jealousy is unbecoming.” Jon sighed dramatically and shook his head in feigned sadness. “Jordan is the praised cook in our family, but he’s
never
received a complimentary
moan
from a gorgeous woman for one of his meals.”

Oriana kept sipping.

Jon leaned in close to her and whispered, “Between you and me, I doubt he’s ever made a woman moan at all.”

She choked into her glass.

A low growl escaped Jordan’s throat.

“See, there’s that social ineptness again,” Jon continued, gently patting Oriana’s back as she quietly coughed into her napkin. “Jordan doesn’t understand that growling in front a guest is rude. Our dear mother, God rest her soul, tried to teach him manners, but—”

“She never found the time to impart a proper lesson because she was far too busy trying to teach Jon how to keep his mouth shut.” Jordan rewarded his brother a tight smile. “As you can see, Jon never did learn. However, I maintain hope that he will one day overcome this flaw, and I do what I can to help him. I believe one is obligated to support their siblings and should encourage them to better themselves. Matter of fact, I think I will
encourage
Jon here very soon.”

“You guys are too cute,” she said, placing her glass down. “But I’m sorry to hear about your mother. May I ask how she passed?”

“Our parents died a couple of years ago in a car accident,” Jordan explained. “It happened back home in Colorado. There was an unexpected winter storm, and the roads were slick…”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It must be very hard. I lost my dad to cancer a year and a half ago, and I still haven’t fully recovered from it. Do you still have family in Colorado?”

Jon smiled sadly. “Yes. Our grandparents, a couple of aunts and uncles, and a few cousins. It’s not a large family, but they’re all there.”

“So I guess your, um…work brought you to Alaska?”

Jon shifted his gaze to Jordan in query, who in turn shrugged. “Jack’s already told her some of what we do.”

“He didn’t really tell me, per se,” Oriana offered. “He just hinted, because I prompted. I was having a problem getting your phones to work, so I began searching your desks for a manual.” She cringed slightly. “Or a password to your computer terminals,” she added. “But not because I wanted to pry into your work or anything, I just thought I could access the internet and send an e-mail out for help.