Unlocking Her Chastity (Polar Bear Alaska) Read online

  And if things get wild and frisky, he could always come back to my hotel room.

  I swallow. Maybe I should take that walk and clear my head after all. Being in a hotel room with a man all by myself seems like a leap, considering the last time I kissed a guy was in Lemon’s bedroom in high school during a Halloween party. I was in costume, and I think he thought I was someone else. Not exactly oozing romance.

  I take a deep breath and begin a nice, leisurely walk off of Main Street, relishing the brisk air, thankful for my thick leather boots.

  A reader made them for me, replicating them from my main character in the series, Bellissima. She wears these beautiful leather boots, and they're made by her brother, Bartimaeus, who is a leather worker. The fact that a fan would make them for me and send them to me still leaves me starstruck. I can't believe this is my life.

  I'm filled with gratitude, and that alone calms my nerves. I have plenty to be grateful for, especially this time of year: the holidays that are so hard for so many people.

  I didn't grow up with a family, so I know that I'm not exactly fortunate in some departments. But my readers, the people who have supported me in my writing journey, they have become my family. Lemon and her family, they've been my family too.

  I'm so lost in this reflection that I don't even hear as footsteps begin to creep up behind me until it's too late.

  The next thing I know, someone has their hand pressed against my mouth, dragging me from the bank of snow into a wooded enclave.

  I begin to scream, loudly – because I know that's what you're supposed to do when someone is attacking you.

  I mean, it's never happened to me before, but I've read about it.

  I've even written about it. I start to kick. “Get off of me!!”

  I elbow this person. I try to wriggle around so that I can see their face, but I can't. I feel muffled. He's dragging me quickly toward a vehicle.

  "Let me go," I shout. I scream, but I'm in the middle of nowhere. I'm in the woods alone with him, and now I'm in his truck. He has my hands tied with rope, and he has duct tape around my mouth. I'm screaming, begging him.

  Tears stream down my cheeks, and it's all happening so fast, within minutes, moments.

  One minute, I'm taking a leisurely stroll, thinking of a gratitude lesson. The next I'm locked in the car of stranger, terrified.

  He's a man who looks ill, deranged. He's bald, with big, beady eyes. He's thick. His body is not healthy. And I can tell he is not a sane person.

  I push at him with my shoulders, trying to get him to let me out. I kick at the doors, but he wraps rope around my shoulders, restraining me even further. He begins to drive wildly into the woods. And I realize if I try to jerk my body against his, he'll get us in a car crash.

  And I'm scared of dying. I don't want to get in a vehicular accident and have this car go over a cliff. I don't know these woods. I don't know the cliff sides of this mountain.

  I fear that if I do something stupid while this truck is moving, that could be the end of me.

  That can't happen.

  I haven't finished my series. I haven't told the end of Bellissima's journey. She hasn't found her happily ever after. She's still riding her freaking polar bear through the land of Winter Fallhaven. She needs to find her warrior before I die. And so do I.

  Eventually, the man stops driving. We're at a shack, a scary, creepy shack. He rips the duct tape off my mouth, and I try to bite him. My teeth smack; I hiss.

  "You stop your screaming," he yells at me.

  I think he's going to slap me, but he doesn't. Instead, he looks at me with a tenderness that frightens me even more than anger would. "You are my little pet now. You're coming inside my house because that is where you belong. You are my little pet. Doesn't that sound nice? You're a pretty little thing, aren't you, with your fur and your pretty little coat? Perfect for my little pet. Just like I knew my Bellissima would be."

  My eyes go wide at his words that disgust me, horrify me. Bellissima? I try to get out of the car as he walks around to the passenger door, but he's tied me so tightly with the rope that I can't.

  He uses a box cutter, once he's opened my door, to take off my restraints, and I'm thinking this might be my chance.

  But he's too quick. He gets me inside of his house by lugging me over his shoulders. I try to grab for a rock, for a stick, for a branch, but he's parked so close to his shack that I can't reach for anything before we're inside.

  "Damn it," I shout. But before I can say any more, he’s pressing a cloth to my mouth.

  I’m a writer.

  I know what is happening, even though I cannot do anything to stop it.

  Chloroform.

  Everything goes dark before I even get a chance to say goodbye.

  3

  JACOB

  Once I’m back home with my groceries and mail, I began to put everything away, wanting to keep my place nice and tidy. I'm not expecting to bring Juniper Jones back here, but that thought has crossed my mind.

  I can see it – her and me, nestled close by the fire, uncorking a nice bottle of wine. I could ask her what really brought her up to Alaska.

  I put all that cheese in the fridge, shaking my head. No, I don't exactly want to go there with that line of questioning because it would bring her circling back to me, asking me the very same thing.

  Why I'm here in Alaska. What brought me to this place? I run a hand over my jaw, knowing that I'm not exactly ready to go there with a woman I just met, no matter how curvy and beautiful she might be.

  But damn, I'm dying to get my hands under that long black coat of hers to see what’s hiding beneath that fur collar and those leather boots.

  My mind's in the gutter. It has something to do with the fact I haven't been laid in one hell of a long time. My cock springs to life at the thought of her and me here, in my cabin, and hell, maybe she will like the idea too. Fact is, her eyes sparkled when I asked her to dinner.

  With a renewed sense of optimism, I decide to put fresh sheets on the bed. I choose the flannel ones considering it's nearly Christmas. Looking around the cabin, I realize it's depressing as fuck. The calendar says I have 14 days till Christmas, and there isn't a lick of decoration in sight. No tree, no lights, not a bauble to be found. I should have done better than this, but the truth is I don't even have a single box of Christmas decor in this cabin to pull out. Nothing to hang, to prove to Juniper that I am more than a burly man who lives alone.

  I pull the flannel sheet on the four corners of my mattress as I consider stopping at the hardware store before dinner. I could buy some decorations, and after dinner, I could invite her back here – if all goes well, of course – and see if she wanted to spruce this place up with me. It could be a cute date idea.

  It's not just that I want to get in her pants. It's that her smile brought something out in me. The way she laughed, the way her eyes brightened my day, I want to feel that way again.

  With that in mind, I finish my tasks around the house, sorting the mail and putting logs by the fireplace. Then I wander the woods, looking for a good-ass pine tree to put in the cabin.

  I find one about a mile in the forest. Nothing’s past that way except Tom’s shack, and I avoid that place like the plague. Truth is, some folks come to Alaska because they can’t make it work in society – that is Tom to a T. I wouldn’t get near his shack with a ten-foot pole.

  I drag the perfect Christmas tree back to my cabin and nail it to a few two-by-fours. Then I set it in a corner, knowing the hardware store will have the decorations it needs to look festive.

  I have a few hours before I'm going to meet Juniper, but I figure it might take me a while to round up Christmas decorations here in Polar Bear. Sure, we're a holiday-themed town, but it's hard to get anything this far up north.

  There's a lot of snow on these roads, and the mountain hasn't been cleared in a while, but the tires on my truck keep me safe and secure as I wind myself back down that mountain.

/>   As I head to town, I realize I probably should have made sure I was wearing a clean shirt. I’m going on a goddamn date, after all. I look myself over – I’m wearing red and cream plaid, flannel, dark denim, and brown leather boots. I suppose it will do.

  And if it doesn't, well, I guess I could find something in town. Maybe I'll ask a clerk at the hardware store if she thinks I should change before the date.

  I chuckle at the thought as I park my car and walk into the store. What would the employees here think of me if I started asking them if I looked appropriate for a date, considering I’ve probably only said a few sentences to them over the last five years? They might choke on their hot cocoas.

  I grab another shopping cart and I guess this is really my shopping day after all. I begin to go up and down the aisles looking for anything that has a Santa Claus on it, an elf or a candy cane. I find a wreath and a few strings of Christmas lights, and a friendly-looking woman with gray hair and a red apron named Judy asks if she can help me.

  I explain the situation. “I’m trying to make my house look Christmasy. I have a date, actually, and if she comes to my cabin, she might think I’m a real bachelor considering Christmas is in a few weeks. What do you think I’m missing?” I look down at the cart.

  She grins. “Well, there's a nice start here, Jacob, but I think maybe you could use some yard decorations.”

  I grin. “Yard decorations?”

  She smiles. “We have some inflatable ones, a snowman and reindeer.”

  “You think I should put inflatable yard decorations out next to my cabin?”

  She shrugs. “Well, I don't know. We just have a huge inventory of them and I'm trying to get them off my husband's hands. You know how Charlie gets.”

  I nod, wondering how she knows my name and why she's acting like we're friends. I realize maybe I have been here a long time. Maybe I could have been doing a bit better of a job being friendly with the locals. I smile at her. “Well, I appreciate it. Can you show me where they are?”

  “Of course.”

  I follow her, and considering she's being so nice to me, I decide to grab both the snowman and the reindeer. She looks surprised. And then she guides me down to the ornaments. “Now, do you have a star for the top of your tree or are you more of an angel sort of man?”

  “Am I an angel or a star kind of guy? Honestly, I've never been asked that before.”

  She smiles. “Jacob, you're so serious. Well, this girl you're trying to impress, what do you think she'd prefer?”

  I know that answer right away. “A star,” I tell her, “because she's a beam of light.”

  “Wow,” she says, “she must be something special.”

  I nod. “I think she is. Her name is Juniper Jones and she—”

  Judy cuts me off. “Juniper Jones. Oh, I know all about her. She just made it into town yesterday. You know, for being such a famous author I'm shocked that she came here all by herself. I mean, I assumed someone like her would have huge entourage.”

  “She's a famous what?”

  “A famous author. Oh my goodness. You didn't know?”

  “No, no. I thought her name sounded familiar, but—”

  “Oh, yes. I mean, she's a bestseller. There's been like three movies made based off her books. They were blockbuster hits.”

  I nod. “I think I might remember seeing something about that…”

  “It's a whole fantasy world set in Winter Fallhaven, with these polar bears who are kind of like giant and, oh, Bellissima, she's the main character. And she has just the most tortured story of all time.” Judy smiles. “So how do you know Juniper?”

  I frown, running a hand over my beard. “Actually, we just met.” I take the ornaments and the star from Judy’s hand and wonder if I'm making a terrible mistake. This woman sounds totally out of my league.

  She smiles. “Anyways, the books are to die for. And I heard she's here researching her next one which makes sense. Because we have the polar bear sanctuary here. And now you have a date with her?”

  “Something like that,” I say, feeling like I am more than a little over my head.

  I admit to spending the next hour waiting for our dinner date to roll around, drinking a peppermint mocha and Googling her. Yes, she's the same Juniper Jones I met at the grocery store this morning.

  Same fiery red hair, same bright blue eyes, same vivid smile.

  I didn't know that she’s 25, that she’s a bit of a recluse who lives in Western Washington in what seems to be an enormous mansion. I didn't know that she’s devoted to her fans who loyally follow her.

  And I didn't know that she has written a world that’s so mesmerizing, so developed, that she has a following worldwide.

  I download the first book while I sit here at the cafe, drinking the mocha. And by the time I've read four chapters on my phone, I’m hooked. I understand. I may have wondered who Juniper was before I went into town this afternoon, but now I know she is complicated and mysterious and beautiful and wise.

  She has a way with words, a way of understanding people and human emotions and grief and loss and beauty and me. I want to know her, everything about her.

  What makes her who she is, and why.

  I have to force myself to put my phone away and go to the Icicle Inn.

  But now I'm sitting here waiting, looking around five minutes after the hour, then 10, 15. By the time it's 20 minutes after six, I realize something isn't right. Maybe it's me.

  I walk to the front desk, and I ask, “Have you seen Juniper Jones today? I think she's saying here, and we were meeting for dinner at six.”

  The person at the front desk types in the computer before replying to me. “I'm sorry, sir. I haven't seen her all afternoon actually.”

  “We were planning on having dinner tonight at the restaurant. Can I have her phone number?”

  The desk clerk frowns. “Hmm. I'm sorry. Um, I'm not really allowed to give you her number.”

  “No, I understand,” I say. “Can I leave her a note? Maybe I misunderstood the time or the day?”

  “Of course.” She hands me a notepad, and I jot down my phone number and my name, trying to keep it brief and not get all sentimental. Not say things like, I want you bad. I need you now. Instead, I simply tell her, I still would love to meet you for dinner when you're free. Yours, Jacob, and I leave my phone number.

  I leave with the intent of calling back later at the hotel to check in and make sure she's all right.

  But the biggest feeling – besides feeling like a dumbass for the Christmas tree in my cabin and the backseat filled with lights and ornaments that I never really wanted – is disappointment.

  Because beyond the books she writes, I thought there was something there, a spark. The moment I met Juniper, I thought there was something special. But she stood me up.

  And now, whatever spark was lit – is gone.

  4

  JUNIPER

  Something cold and metallic is pressing against my body.

  Against my private places.

  My eyes open wide.

  Panic rushes through me.

  My hands are bound by rope and there's duct tape over my mouth again. I look down. The man who kidnapped me has just locked something to my body where my panties used to be.

  I know what this is. It is a chastity belt.

  I just opened my eyes wide, but now I want to squeeze them shut. Unsee whatever I've just seen because this, this is horrific. Appalling.

  I try to swallow but I'm too scared.

  He takes the duct tape off me, and I try to bite his fingers. I don't know what he's done, but I know what he's just put on me.

  I've spent the last seven years researching and studying medieval torture and weapons and undergarments and food and housing and everything to do with that time in history.

  And this device he's just strapped to my body is very plainly a chastity belt. I swallow. “Oh my God,” I shriek. “What have you done to me? Did you. ..?” There is
one thing I've held dear and precious. “Did you touch me? Did you have sex with me?” I ask him, shaking at the thought.

  He shakes his head. “I would never, Bellissima.”

  He's on his knees and I'm lying on a mattress in a bedroom I've never seen before. He must have brought me in here after he knocked me out.

  It's empty and nondescript. It looks like a very rough and poorly cared for shack. I wonder if there's even any electricity.

  There's no light in this room except for a candle on the bedside table. Makes me feel like I certainly did fall back through time.

  “What are you doing to me? What are your plans for me?” I ask him.

  “Don't worry. You're my little pet. I’m not going to hurt you. I would have never touched you. No one will touch you, ever. That's why I put this on you,” he says, “that's why I buried the key. No one will ever get to you now.”

  His voice is sugary sweet, but there's a crazed, unhinged tone to it.

  Terror rolls through me. I'm not going to stay here with this man. He looks like he could change his mind at any moment, and I'm not going to wait for that.

  Of course, a part of me is scared. But all I can be concerned with right now is getting the hell out of this place. A stupid metal belt is wrapped around my body in lieu of my underwear, and I don't even want to know where he's put those.

  I need to get out of here. Now. I need to get somewhere safe. I need to get to Jacob.

  Jacob. He is a strong and steady man. The kind of man who made me feel protected. I've had one conversation with him, but even in that short amount of time, I knew he would make sure I was okay.

  This man, though, this man in front of me? He's literally insane.

  “You look scared, my little pet,” he says. “Are you hungry? Would you like to come to dinner? I made you some soup. I made you some warm milk.”

  “Milk? Uh, sure,” I say, wanting to say something that will get him moving. Get him looking in the other direction. So I have time to get away.