Page 4 of Guarded by the Yeti (Monster Security Agency)
Chapter Four
Kaelthar
It takes me an hour or more to fall asleep. The fire is crackling softly in the fireplace, the cabin is toasty, and Ysella never allowed me to close the bedroom door. So, I’m lying here, on the sofa, trying not to make a sound as I’m struggling to ignore the hardness in my pants. The pants are a bother when I don’t have an erection. When my cock is so stiff that it’s ready to burst, they become more than a bother. The fabric rubbing on my sensitive skin is torture.
My mind is full of her. It’s no wonder that as soon as I doze off, I see her in my dreams, wrapped in that oversized towel, looking at me with her deep, dark eyes. She’s beckoning to me. A smile curves her lips, and she starts unwrapping the towel, unwrapping herself like she’s a gift come from above.
My cock is like a steel rod, pushing against the buttons of my pants. I turn on my other side, facing the back of the couch, and I get some friction there, right where I need it. Involuntarily, I start rubbing myself on the couch, moving my hips slowly, picking up the pace as I grow hornier by the second. It’s not enough.
In my dream, Ysella’s towel pools around her tiny, perfect feet, and she’s barely covering her breasts and pelvis with her delicate hands. I reach my own hand into my pants and grip my painful cock. I let out a sigh as I pump myself, no longer knowing if this is a dream or reality, if I’m jerking off in my dream, or this is really happening while Ysella’s door is wide open, and she might catch a glimpse of me at any moment. Who’s to say she can sleep after all that’s happened?
Something tickles my nape, then my shoulder. I freeze, and again, my brain is confused. Dream or reality? The ticklish sensation intensifies, and I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling myself come back to my senses. Now I want back in the dream. I feel a slight pressure on my shoulder, and my instincts kick in. I’m wide awake in a second, shooting upright, looking around me frantically.
Ysella is on the floor, next to the sofa, looking at me with frightened eyes. My reaction must’ve made her pull away. Her hair falls around her face in waves, and I squint at her, not quite comprehending what I’m seeing.
Is her hair...?
No, that’s not possible.
In the orange light of the fire, her brown hair looks... white. I rub my eyes, thinking I must surely be still asleep. Dreams can be weird.
“Ysella?” I whisper softly, testing my voice.
She scrambles closer and half climbs onto the couch. That makes me pull away. This is real. Not a dream. How do I know? Because her hand grabs mine, as if she’s looking for comfort.
“Ysella, what happened?”
She stares at me for a moment, then shakes her head. She doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“Your hair,” I say. “What happened to your hair?”
She looks down at the locks covering her chest. She has long hair, down to her waist, straight and perfect. Her eyes widen when she notices the change in color. Just a few hours ago, it was deep brown, and now, it’s completely white. Not a trace of the original color in it. She covers her mouth with her hand, even though no sound comes out. Now more than ever, I’m convinced that Ysella is mute.
She shakes her head more vigorously, and tears bloom in her eyes.
“No, it’s okay,” I say, reaching for her and drawing her fully onto the sofa, next to me. I don’t know what I’m doing. “It’s okay. You’re as beautiful as always.”
She clings to me, burying her head in my chest. I wrap one arm around her, holding her close. At the same time, I’m trying to angle my body away from her. The erection isn’t going down. Worse, my cock twitches when I feel her tiny hands digging into my fur, viciously holding on. She’s pulling at the roots, not realizing the effect she has on me. A feel pre-cum seep out of my engorged head, and within seconds, the front of my pants is completely damp.
“It’s alright.” Now I’m trying to gently push her away, but she isn’t having it. “I’ve heard about this happening. People’s hair going grey overnight after they experience tremendous stress or trauma. What you went through... It’s unspeakable. This is just your body reacting.”
She shakes her head again, climbs half on top of me, and buries her face in the crook of my neck. I can’t help letting out a deep, husky groan.
“Ysella, this isn’t appropriate,” I say. “I’m here for you, but we need to respect each other’s boundaries. I’m your bodyguard, and I’m sure your brother wouldn’t approve...”
She cuts me off by taking my face in her hands and pressing her lips to mine. I sit still. Everything inside me is screaming. This beautiful creature is all over me, showing me that she wants me. She can’t speak, but she surely knows how to express herself through body language.
I’m not an idiot, though. I understand that the mental state she’s in is pushing her to do this. She needs someone to comfort her, to tell her that she’s safe, reassure her that she’s wanted. That she’s still desirable despite all that has happened to her. I know all this, and I’m a decent guy, or so I consider myself to be. I won’t take advantage of her at her weakest and most vulnerable.
I push her away, a little more roughly than before. She looks at me, confused.
“No. We can’t do this,” I say. I’m holding her at arm’s length, when all I want is to push her down and insert myself into her trembling body. I can smell her arousal. “You’re sad, Ysella. That’s all this is. You probably can barely make sense of the tragedy that befell your family, and now you’re here, in a strange place, alone with me, a stranger. That’s what I am to you, Ysella. A stranger.”
She shakes her head and tries to jump into my arms again, but I hold her firmly. She doesn’t stand a chance against my physical strength.
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask. “You’re exhausted. I’ll make you a cup of hot tea, and it will help clear your head.”
I don’t wait for her reaction. I stand up quickly and head for the kitchen, leaving her on the sofa with my blanket. I pray that she doesn’t follow, because I need a minute to collect myself and adjust the hardness in my pants.
In the kitchen, I turn on the stove and put the kettle on. I steal a glance through the open door, and I see Ysella where I left her. She’s pulled the blanket over herself and is staring into the fire. From time to time, she smooths down her white hair. I let out a sigh of relief, turn away, and discreetly adjust the situation below my waist. I need to burst so badly. Maybe later, when she’s busy sipping her tea, I’ll sneak into the bathroom and take care of the problem. Or maybe I should go get more firewood, and the cold will fix it for me.
It’s selfish of me, I realize, to be thinking of my carnal needs when this woman is suffering in the other room. She’s my client, for fuck’s sake! I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this in the first place! I’ve never had female clients before, and for good reason. I knew to avoid situations where I’d have to spend too much time in the presence of a woman, regardless of her species. Yetis are carnal creatures. We’re filled with lust. There aren’t many Yeti females in the US, as my species prefers to stay put in the Himalayas, where we were born. We don’t like change. Everyone in my community back home thinks I’m a weirdo for emigrating.
The tea is ready, so I bring it to Ysella, my hands shaking as I carry the tray. I hope she doesn’t notice the massive bulge in my pants. I lean over the coffee table to pour her a cup, and she immediately reaches for me. I nearly jump out of my skin. She looks at me questioningly, and I realize how rude my reaction was.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “We need more firewood. You stay here and enjoy your tea. Stay warm.”
Would it be ridiculous to jerk off in the shed? I decide I won’t do it. It’s pathetic that I can’t restrain myself around her. I’m pathetic. I put on my boots, and before I walk out of the cabin, I make sure to grab my satellite phone.
I start walking and don’t stop until I’m sure I’m out of Ysella’s line of sight if she decides to watch me through the window. I punch in the number that I haven’t called in three months. I was so proud of myself, too. Oscar picks up on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Oscar, sorry...” I realize I have no idea what time it is.
“Kaelthar? Is everything okay?”
I let out a frustrated groan. “No. You were right, Oscar. I shouldn’t have interrupted our sessions. I thought I was better, I thought I was past this, but... I need your help.”
My therapist’s voice softens. “I’m glad you called. Tell me everything, and I’ll try to help as best as I can.”