“I don’t want to deal with any more nightmares.”
“Roam, you don’t dream when you’re pregnant,” he whispered, tracing my jaw lovingly. “The dreams… and the nightmares… go away near the beginning.”
“What?” I sat up, turning to look at him.
He pulled me back down to tuck me against his body. “You understand that I did not try to prevent a pregnancy tonight,” he explained as he ran his thumb over my lips.
“I… know,” I stammered, nodding. “I know. Because of the prophecy. If we fail in the other life… we’ll try in this life.”
He held my face steady, his eyes flashing with what seemed like anger. “No, Roam. Because I love you. I love you, and I have no idea how long I’ll get to love you in this life. Before it’s over, I want to see your body grow with my child. I want to hold our baby in my arms. Finally.”
I gasped a sob, nodding again as I broke into tears. “I love you too, West. I just… do.”
Staring out the window, I focused on the sun as it stole away from the ocean. It appeared to grow out of the sea like a fiery globe. His open hand slid across my stomach, urging me against the pillow. I felt him as he bent to kiss where his hand cradled lovingly.
“Good morning, baby,” he whispered against my skin.
I threaded my fingers through his thick hair, smiling through my tears.
Our child will save the world.
He moved beside me and closed his eyes, and I watched him sleep for the first time.
I wanted to watch him for the rest of my life.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sleep existed on and off throughout the day as we made love again and again in a languid pool of non-reality.
He woke me later that morning, carrying me to the outdoor shower. He pressed me against the shower wall in the late morning sunshine, driving into me, driving me to the kind of heights that I never imagined possible. He growled, fisting my hair as he shuddered, exploding.
“You have to remember to breathe, baby,” he told me, supporting me as he lowered me to the concrete floor.
I blinked against the warm water, my lips swollen with the intensity of his kissing. “I don’t want to breathe. I like… when you’re inside of me, and I start to… fall apart…”
The sun was high above the ocean as he carried me back into the bedroom. He kept saying that he was worried about hurting me, but I protested, helplessly addicted to the way he made my body feel.
He began with my lips, kissing his way down my naked, wet body, not stopping at my abdomen. I gasped as his head lowered, protesting as he pushed my knees apart. I tried to sit up, but he stopped me.
“Lie back,” he commanded.
I was shaking. I had idea what he was going to do to me, but I knew that I could trust him.
And the way he makes me feel…
I did as he asked, and he smiled, his eyebrows rising.
“Close your eyes.”
I did, tangling my fingers in the sheets. He dropped soft kisses to my inner thighs, giving me time to understand what was coming.
When he put his mouth there, I lost my mind.
I had no idea what I said, or how much I begged, but I knew at some point he had to hold me down as I nearly came off the bed. When I drifted in and out of consciousness, he settled in next to me, and I turned to flatten my hand over his broad, muscled chest.
A burst of confidence surged through me, and I pushed at his chest until he was on his back.
“And what are you planning to do, Miss Camden?” he asked, his lazy drawl forcing a shy smile from me. I bit my lip, shrugging.
“I want to do that… to you. But I don’t know how to make you… like it.”
His eyes darkened to infinite shades of blue, and he tugged me closer, his words hot on my lips. “No?” he urged, his hand sliding between us.
I dropped my forehead to his chest as his fingers pushed inside of me. I whimpered, my words tearing from my throat.
“I want you to feel what I’m feeling.”
He pulled his hand away and lifted me to straddle his hips. The sweltering heat inside the cottage created a hazy disorientation in my mind, and I was fueled only by my intense need to feel him.
“I’m yours, Roam. I’ve always been yours. I find you; I protect you. I serve you.”
I stilled. The weight of his words tugged at my subconscious, and the rush of unrecognizable memories came just as fleetingly as they went.
I knew him.
I did as he had, kissing my way over his thighs before taking him in. He guided me, tensing, tangling his hands in my hair as he called my name. I was so turned on just knowing what I was doing to him, and he turned me over to my back just in time, thrusting into me.
We came together, falling apart.
Hours later, my body exhausted and sated, I was curled in his arms.
“Roam.” He shifted slightly, kissing my shoulder. “I can’t get lost in you again. It happens every time, and I forget that we are in a war,” he murmured, staring out the window.
“You’re right,” I agreed, nestled into the crook of his arm. I tucked my leg over his legs, marveling in the familiarity of our bodies. “We need to eat something, and I need to learn to fight.”
His fingers traced over my bare hip. “You fought pretty well last night,” he whispered, lifting an eyebrow. “I didn’t think that you had it in you.”
“I probably could have fought Troy… if I hadn’t been in the water.”
My voice was thin, breaking on the word water. He gathered me into his arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I’ll make sure that you learn. But the first thing we’re going to do,” he began, glancing toward the shore with a grin, “is go swimming.”
My eyes darted to the window, and I shook my head emphatically. “No way. I’m not going in the ocean-”
“You’ve got to get back in the water, Roam. I know you’re afraid, but you are a talented swimmer, and you can’t carry a fear like that around with you for the rest of your life.”
“I’m not ready,” I said firmly, tightening my grip on his legs.
“We’ll work on that,” he promised, nudging my legs apart as he turned to lay over me. I giggled as he dove suddenly, planting wet, silly kisses on my neck and chest.
“Stop! West stop!” I cried, laughing and writhing beneath his tickling mouth.
“Stop what?” he teased, his voice rumbling against my skin.
“I… ohmygod!” I sat up so suddenly, my forehead knocked against his with a sickening crack. He narrowed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, backing away as I gripped my arm.
“My numbers!” Cold fear drained the color from my face as I rubbed my throbbing forehead. “Where are they? What…”
He grabbed my arm and turned it over, but my skin was blank.
He burst to his feet, reaching frantically for his clothes. “We have to go.”
“What does this mean? Is Logan… is he…” My limbs went heavy with grief, my words dying in my throat.
I imagined a life without Logan and fought back the surge of nausea.
“No.” West shoved his feet into his jeans before noticing my panic-stricken face. “Roam, I don’t think he’s dead, I think he traveled through the fountain. He didn’t wait. Goddamnit!”
I stood up as well, searching for my clothes. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s a fucking kid and he doesn’t fucking listen,” West snapped.
I stilled, trying to catch my breath.
A kid? What am I?
“West, he’s a year older than I am.”
He ignored me. Great, we’re back to that. “Hurry. I’ll buy plane tickets while you get cleaned up.”
I almost tripped as I ran to the bathroom, fighting with the nozzle in the shower. “What will happen to him?” I called, trying to regain my balance.
“I don’t know, which is exactly why I told him to wait,” West snapp
ed.
The water finally turned from cool to warm, and I fell to my knees, gripping the side of the tub.
“West!” The tingling sensation crept down my arm. I felt him sweep me into his arms, and he rushed me back to the bed. “They’re coming back…”
“Look at my face,” he shouted, dropping me to the bed and holding me beneath him. “Just focus. Roam.”
I writhed, biting my lip to keep from screaming as I met his gaze. Fire shot through my arm and I moaned, holding my breath and watching the pupils of his eyes dilate. In seconds, the pain began to subside, and he released me, studying the numbers. “Where?” I gasped, panting.
“Russia. He traveled. And he came back.”
West’s cell phone rang. He jumped to his feet and grabbed it from the dresser. I sat up weakly, tucking the sheet around my naked body.
“I told you to wait!” West thundered. I jumped at his threatening tone, my heart racing. It had to be Logan.
“West-”
Logan must have said something that infuriated him. He looked my way, shaking his head. “No way in hell you’re speaking to her-”
“Let me talk to him!” I cried, storming to him and reaching for the phone.
He pulled the phone away from his ear, his eyes raking over me before he hit speaker and tossed the phone to the bed.
I leaned over his phone. “Logan?”
“Roam, it’s true, the fountain is a door,” Logan said, his voice filling the bedroom. Immediately, the guilt resurfaced, and I cringed and tightened the sheet to my bare chest. “I spent a day in 1977, but only minutes passed here,” he explained.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I asked, watching West’s face. He listened intently, looking ready to break the phone in half in seconds.
“I’m okay. But Cam, you need to get here with me. Now.”
That was enough for West. He grabbed the phone and snapped it shut. Tears filled my eyes after hearing Logan’s voice, knowing everything I’d just done with West. They poured over my cheeks, and I brushed at them angrily. “He wasn’t finished!”
“He doesn’t need to tell us what we’re doing. I want you to get showered and not worry. I’m getting the tickets, and we’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll make sure Logan knows that he made you go through the numbers unnecessarily.”
I narrowed my eyes. “West, don’t make him feel guilty.”
“We know the doors work. And it’s 1977,” he murmured, turning to look out the window. The phone was already ringing again, and he stepped out the back door to the deck before answering it.
I showered slowly, trying to process everything that was happening. After drying off, I pulled on the thin, yellow dress that I’d brought and brushed through my tangled hair,
West slipped into the bathroom behind me, and I met his eyes through the mirror as he wrapped his arms around my waist. Sighing, I dropped the brush, unable to resist relaxing in his arms.
He spoke calmly, his gaze unwavering. “I’m sorry that I was so angry. If Logan had been killed, you’d have been devastated. I don’t want your love by default.”
I watched him through the bathroom mirror. My head reached his bare chest, and his biceps flexed as he held me tighter. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his dark, blond facial hair was prickly as he bent to kiss my neck.
Turning around to face him, I lifted my eyes to his. “As much as I will always love Logan, I just don’t trust him. Not anymore.” I cringed, struggling with the realization. “He has it within him, deep in his soul, to hurt me. It may surface someday. Not knowing if it will happen is… frightening.”
“And you trust me,” he added. I nodded, pressing my cheek to his chest.
“Yes. Of course I do.”
His hold on me tightened. “Then listen to me, Roam. Whatever Logan tells you, whatever he does to try to make you trust him… don’t. He may tell you terrible things, things that will hurt you and scare you, just to manipulate you. He has already been exposed to the dreams. He has already formed ideas about you and me, and what we are.”
I exhaled quickly. Would he guess that I slept with West? Would he know when he saw me?
“West,” I begged, looping my arms around his neck. “I need you to tell me now. About 1977. Tell me everything. I need to know what I’m walking into.”
He searched my eyes, and I could tell that he was lost in thought. Finally, he nodded, capturing my lips in a sweet kiss. “Okay. First, we eat. We’re still leaving tomorrow morning.”
I waited for him in the kitchen, nervously arranging and rearranging the items on the countertops. Turning, I saw him come in from the bedroom, and a wide smile escaped before I had time to even try for flirtatious. He wore beige cargo shorts and a white polo and was freshly showered and shaved.
I tucked my hands behind my back, smiling up at him. “West?”
He smirked, sauntering to me and resting his hands on my hips. “Still me, baby.”
I grinned. “You look so cute and… datish.”
“Datish?” he repeated, his amused smile meeting my lips in a quick kiss. “Please don’t use that word in your application to Yale,” he scolded.
I tried for a grin but had to push away the somber thoughts of college, high school, my dad, and Morgan. He saw the cloud pass over my expression and sighed, reaching for the car keys. “Come on. I’m going to start talking, and I just want you to listen. I’ll answer your questions when I’m done,” he assured me, squeezing my hand.
“Yes, Mr. Perry.”
He gave me a reproving smirk before leading me out to the Jeep.
“Julie’s mother was from the UK, and her job had something to do with journalism for the 1957 Nigerian Constitutional Conference. Julie was born there, two months premature.”
I listened, tracing the lines on his hand. “1957… only two years after I died in 1955?”
“Yes. The closest it’s ever been.” He backed out of the driveway, rolling the windows down. Sun poured through the glass, the temperature warming to the low eighties. “When the numbers appeared, I tracked you to Nigeria. But you were back in the UK, and then moved to the US when I finally found you in Atlanta. You were almost twenty years old.”
I looked down at my hands, clearing my throat. “Julie, you mean,” I said softly.
West glanced my way, shaking his head. “It’s very hard for me to remember that you were Julie, Roam. The two of you are nothing alike.”
I nodded, turning back to the window.
The restaurant that he chose was minutes from the cottage, in the same plaza as the pizza restaurant the night before. We stepped along a planked boardwalk quietly, hand in hand. I wanted him to keep talking, but I knew that he was waiting until we were seated. The waiter showed us to a secluded booth in the back.
After we ordered two waters, he glanced at the menu. “Do you like steak?”
“Sure,” I answered, closing my menu. “Please keep going.”
He nodded, placing our order with the waiter before continuing. “We met on New Year’s Day. You were a young journalist, aspiring to be like your mother. You were covering the opening of a new restaurant called Atlas. I watched you get out of a taxi, and you stepped into a slushy snow-rain puddle just inside the curb. I walked over to ask if I could help, and we ended up having dinner together at Atlas.”
“Pretty smooth, Mr. Perry,” I teased, though my heart was pounding with apprehension.
He gave me a distant smile. “I didn’t have the money, or the education, that I do now. You were stunning. Long blond hair, those green eyes…”
“And a happening figure, I know, keep going.” I pushed the ice cubes around with my straw, sulking. He chuckled, seizing my hands.
“Stop it. You- Julie- couldn’t spell, and your knowledge of history was based on Gone with the Wind.” He tucked my hair over my ear, grinning my way. “But I’ll bet you could tell me at least two historical facts about 1976 in under two minutes.”
I shrugged. “The death penalty
was ruled constitutional, Jimmy Carter was elected president, and… Star Wars came out in theaters.”
“Star Wars was 1977, but good job, baby.”
I relented, smiling up at him. “So, she was pretty, but stupid.”
He shook his head. “You were beautiful and adventurous. You had this wild streak that was insatiable.” Our meals were served, and I pushed my food around on the plate.
“Adventurous?” I thought of the past twenty-four hours, casting my eyes down at my plate. “Like… sexually?” I whispered, barely audible in the busy restaurant.
I couldn’t help it. I needed to know that I was better in every way. No matter how many times he said it, I’d never believe that I was capable of pleasing him.
He leaned in, and I jumped, feeling his hand slide under the table and over my bare knee. He continued up my dress until I locked my thighs together, gasping.
“There is no one like you. And I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”
I exhaled quickly. “Okay. Thank you,” I replied, pushing my vegetables around on my plate.
“Eat, Roam. I don’t know when we’ll have another decent meal.”
I sighed, cutting the steak and taking a small bite. “What kinds of things did Julie do?”
“You went dancing with me the first night we met, got incredibly drunk, and slept with me.”
Widening my eyes, I registered his words, finally smirking. “Hussy.”
He laughed, his shoulders shaking as he sat back. “No, that’s just what it was back then. You see what you like, you do it. You do what feels good at the time.”
Do what feels right… the words that he had spoken to me as we’d made love surfaced, and I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat.
Just his voice, and sitting so close to him… I knew that I should have been worrying about going to Russia and seeing Logan the next day, not imagining West inside of me in the middle of a restaurant.
“Oh.”
“The first night, when I touched you, the numbers came while you were drunk. The next morning, I explained everything to you. You didn’t believe at first, but the dreams convinced you. You were pregnant within weeks, and we spent five days planning our wedding in New York.”
Roam (Roam Series, Book One) Page 18
