In the Time of the Caveman

by Samantha Leal

  “That was absolutely amazing,” he panted as he kissed her on the forehead and pulled her close to him. “I’ve never come that hard before.”

  “Neither have I,” Eve whispered as she ran her fingertips across his torso.

  She felt so safe and happy, she never wanted the moment to end.

  9.

  She woke up naked and alone, and when she turned to look at the clock on the nightstand she realized she must have slept for most of the remainder of the day. It was dark outside and the clock said it was 10pm. She sat up and looked around. There was no sign of Jonny anywhere in the room and his clothes had gone. She rubbed her eyes and wrapped herself up in the bedsheet before she got to her feet and shuffled over to the bathroom.

  She turned on the light and blinked blearily as she moved towards the mirror. The light was bright, stark and unforgiving and she could see the smudges of her make-up all down her cheeks. She ran the faucet and wet the corner of a flannel before she dabbed at the streaks and cleaned her face. Even though she had been wearing her make-up for over twenty-four hours, her skin was still soft and dewy underneath. She smiled. She knew why she looked so good. It was because of Jonny and of the wild afternoon of passion they had experienced. He had pleasured her in ways she could never even have dreamed possible.

  She went back into the bedroom and pulled her dress on over her head before she headed for the door of the motel room. She opened it wide and looked out over the parking lot and down the walkway that ran the whole side of the building. She spotted him straight away, sitting in the dark with his boots kicked out in front of him and the trail of smoke drifting up from his cigarette.

  “Jonny?” she called. And he turned to her and smiled.

  “Come here baby,” he grinned.

  She walked towards him over the cold sandy ground in her bare feet and when she got to the bench he pulled her to him so she was on his knee.

  “What a day,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek.

  “One of the worst and also one of the best,” she teased.

  “I second that,” he winked.

  “They sat together under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms as the blur of trucks and cars flashed past them on the freeway. It was one of the most calming experiences of Eve’s life, just sitting with the man she was falling for, completely at peace after the crazy day they had had together. She almost couldn’t believe that everything back at the motorcycle club had happened. And the previous night when she had witnessed the murder in the alleyway near the warehouse was like a distant memory. In a way it was like it had taken place only in a dream.

  “How long have you been out here?” she asked as she lightly kissed the tip of his ear.

  “About half an hour,” he said as he exhaled a plume of smoke up into the night.

  “Have you had any word on Mack?” just saying his name made her shudder when she thought of what could have happened to her.

  “I’m waiting for a call,” Jonny flicked the cigarette and it bounced across the ground.

  “And then what?” Eve’s ears pricked up as she listened intently.

  “And then we go home,” he smiled.

  “Really? Just like that?” she couldn’t believe it.

  “Mack and the rest of the outlaws are all going to be behind bars by the morning,” he smiled. “And then I’ll make sure you’re home safe and no one will ever harm you or come looking for you again.”

  She looked into his eyes and she knew that he was telling her the truth. This incredible man had already saved her once and now he was vowing to protect her for as long as she needed him to. Eve suddenly had the feeling that she would need him forever.

  “So, everything is going to be okay?” she said with a grin as she clasped her hands together.

  “Yeah babe,” he smiled and pulled her into his chest again. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  They made their way back to the motel room and fell down on the bed together to rest for the remainder of the night when Jonny’s cell phone suddenly sprang to life. He reached out and grabbed it and pulled it to his ear.

  “Walker?” he said before he waited for the person on the other end of the line to speak. “Umm hmm. Okay, great. Thanks.”

  He hung up and rested the cell back down on the side table.

  “So?” Eve asked impatiently.

  “So…” Jonny sighed. “Looks like Mack is in jail and won’t be getting out of there for a very long time. They’re not posting bail and he’s looking at a minimum of twenty years.”

  “Wow,” Eve exhaled.

  Twenty years behind bars. What could be worth risking that for?

  “So we can go home?” Eve leaned up on her elbows.

  “Yep,” Jonny smiled. “Or…” he trailed off with a mischievous grin on his face and Eve knew what he was going to say. “Or we could stay here a little longer? I’m certainly in no rush.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows and Eve felt the familiar beginnings of desire rising within her. She looked down at Jonny lying next to her and at his beautiful physique and tanned chest.

  How could she say no to that?

  “I’m sure we could figure something out.” she licked her lips as he leaned in for a kiss.

  As they rolled towards one another and started to become tangled up in each other’s limbs, Eve felt as if she had finally found happiness. She couldn’t wait to get him back to the city with her and for them to start a new life together. She had the feeling that everything was going to work out because they were bound by more than desire for each other… they were also bound by danger and the fact that Jonny had saved her life. He was responsible for her now, and she could sense his obligation. It made her feel so safe and cared for, it was the most wonderful feeling.

  It had been a crazy start to the year, one that she had in no way expected, but one that she was glad she had experienced even if it had at times been traumatic. She looked up into Jonny’s eyes and smiled. He made her feel complete and whole. He was what she never knew she had been missing, but now she knew she didn’t want to ever live without.

  He was her savior.

  Her protector.

  She knew she was about to start the wildest ride of her life with him by her side. The New Year had brought with it some life changing moments already, but she wouldn’t have changed any of it for the world.

  THE END

  The Highland Locket

  Jessica Savage

  Copyright ©2015 by Jessica Savage. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Thank you so much for your interest in my work!

  ’TWAS on the 9th of September, a very beautiful day,

  That a numerous English army came in grand array,

  And pitched their tents on Flodden field so green

  In the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and thirteen.

  ***

  All was quiet across the hillside, the air eerily calm as before a storm. The occasional sound of a horse braying or a man shouting echoed across the valley, disturbing the peace. A bright sun gleamed across the vast blue of the skies as William Stewart waited for the signal for the battle to commence. He did not know that thousands of the men and boys around him would be dead by the time the sun rose again, one of them being his King. But he could not alter history or the lineage of over 10,000 men. It was possible, however, that he could shape his own destiny.

  ***

  Rebecca Brooke stared out the window. All week the weather had been cold and dreadful, and a low mist had hung over the valley, blotting out the wonderful view that the brochure had promised. For a summer vacation, late August in Scotland had proved to be a damp squib so far. OK, so it was a working vacation, two months working on a 16th-century a
rchaeological dig in Scotland. It had sounded pretty awesome at the time. Cool, yes. Cold–no!

  It was her first proper assignment and her first time in Scotland. She would have preferred Egypt or India, but she had been allocated to Scotland instead. Although she had been told to pack for the weather, she had ignored the advice. Living most of her life in California, she spent most of the time in shorts and miniskirts that showed off her tanned and toned legs. What she needed here was a woolly jumper and thermal underwear! She had managed to buy a few pairs of thick leggings and wore these under her shorts and socks. It wasn’t her best look, but at least they showed off her figure. Most of the other girls wore thick, shapeless sweaters over practical-looking outdoor pants that didn’t do them any favors.

  Not all was lost, however. There was James Anderson.

  James was the lead archaeologist on the dig, a Scotsman and an expert on Scottish history. Not only was he handsome, but he was intelligent, too–the new sexy. With his deep auburn hair and brown eyes, no woman was safe. Not that he noticed her, or anyone else for that matter. By breakfast, he had already eaten and gone out to the dig, and when he returned, his nose was always in a book. At least he was eye candy.

  Her cell phone rang in her pocket and Rebecca looked at the number. It was her Mom. She had only been here for a couple of days but she had already phoned twice to see if she was eating properly and if she had managed to see the Queen of England yet; it was a no to both.

  “Hi, Mom.” She tried not to sound bored.

  “Becky, sweetheart, how are you doing out there?”

  “Same as ever. How’s Dad?”

  “He’s good, sweetie. Are you eating OK?”

  The conversation continued thus and Rebecca tried hard to stifle a yawn. Her Mom meant well, but sometimes she could be overbearing.

  “Are you tired, honey? You sound tired.”

  “No, Mom, I’m still a bit jet-lagged. We haven’t been able to go out on site yet because of the good old British weather.”

  “Well, don’t forget you could check out our relations there. We do have a great Aunt, twice removed, if she’s still living. She must be at least 90 by now. Wait a minute, and I’ll get you the details.”

  “Mom...” But it was too late. Rebecca could hear her Mother scrabbling around in her bag for one of her notebooks.

  “Here we are. Have you got a pen handy? It’s Mrs Nora McPherson, the Old Vicarage, Selkirk. Did you get that, sweetie?”

  Rebecca hadn’t any desire to visit a relative who wouldn’t know her from Adam, but agreed with her Mom just to shut her up. After she promised her mother not to fall into a Loch, the call was finally over.

  Sammy, a bespectacled English girl, was walking towards her with a smile. She had done her best so far to avoid her. Sammy was a “jolly hockey sticks” type who was always trying to arrange outings and activities for the others.

  “Hey, Rebecca, do you feel like braving the weather and heading into the nearest village this afternoon? We might even find a pub–do you want to come?”

  They were all staying in a large rented property on the outskirts of a village, and Rebecca hadn’t had time yet to get her bearings.

  Sammy was of the baggy jumper brigade and Rebecca felt nothing in common with her. She would rather stick pins in her thighs than have to make small talk.

  Shaking her head, she stood up to leave when Johnny Hampshire strode into the room. Johnny was handsome yet arrogant. He was Scottish but had attended an English public school and spoke with a very clipped accent. He worked closely with James, and neither man had much time for each other. Unfortunately, Johnny had noticed her long blonde hair and treated her like the local bimbo. For once she wished she was wearing Sammy’s shapeless garb.

  “Hey, Becky, fancy a stroll in the heather with me?” he grinned suggestively as he looked her up and down, before placing his hand territorially on her arm.

  She wanted to tell him to go screw himself but was far too polite.

  “Actually, I’ve already arranged to go out with Sammy.” Rebecca shrugged his arm away and his grin slipped into a sneer.

  “Frigid bitch,” he muttered under his breath, the muscles clenching around his jaw line.

  “What did you say?”

  Johnny smiled again, but this time it made her shiver with its coldness. “I said have a great time” and with that, he turned and slowly left the room.

  “What a creep.” Sammy made a face as he left and Rebecca laughed. Perhaps the afternoon wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  They ventured out into the mist and fog. The drizzle was light yet constant and Sammy loaned Rebecca a bright green jacket to wear. There was no one to see her wearing it in this place, and James would probably find it sexy.

  The girls walked along a little path, and for once Rebecca was glad she had bought a decent pair of walking boots. She could feel the mud slip and slide beneath her feet and was glad that she wasn’t wearing her usual flimsy sneakers.

  After half an hour, they had almost given up hope of finding a place when they stumbled across an old coaching house –The Bluebell Inn. Relieved, they staggered inside, dripping water across the polished floorboards as they made their way to the bar and ordered double whiskies to warm them through.

  Rebecca looked around, amazed at the place–it was like stepping back in time. Apart from the two of them, the bar was occupied by several all men wearing tweed jackets and caps. They all stared back and nodded. She must have looked as strange to them as they did to her, in waterproof, fluorescent pink boots.

  Sammy walked back with the glasses of golden whisky. The whisky tasted good. It was the best thing about Scotland so far. As it hit the back of her throat, her whole body seemed to glow.

  “We’re just down the road,” Sammy laughed. “I bet we can see our place from here–I’ve just spoken to the barman, and this is the village of Selkirk.”

  Rebecca coughed and started to choke on the amber nectar. Selkirk was the place where her old relative lived, and she was staying literally on the doorstep. A shiver ran through her as if there was something sinister about the connection, as if it was always meant to be. Maybe it was just a mixture of the cold and the alcohol or perhaps she was still jetlagged? She laughed at her foolishness. There was something surreal about the whole thing, standing in the middle of this Scottish pub, dripping wet and drinking whiskey among the tweed-clad locals that made the whole thing seem absurd. A couple of double whiskeys later and she had soon forgotten all about her ancient relative.

  It was evening when they rolled out of the door and into the darkening air. The mist had lifted slightly and a smell of decay lingered. The night had started to draw in and wrap itself around the girls, chilling them to the bone as they hurried quickly along the road, this time taking the more direct route. The path took them past an old church, its old Norman tower looming in the darkness. Next to it, Rebecca could just make out the dark shadows of the ancient gravestones and, stopping for a second, she peered through the rusting iron railings and wondered if any of her ancestors were buried there. Sammy proceeded to pounce on her making ghostly wailing noises and Rebecca shrieked with delight as they ran on, not stopping until they were back inside, safe and sound.

  It wasn’t late when they returned, but Rebecca was tired, still recovering her recent flight.

  As soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. If it weren’t for a noise outside her door, she would have probably slept all night. She stirred and reached on the bedside table for her watch. It was only 10:30 and she realized she had a terrible thirst from the whiskey. She always slept naked and quickly slipped into her fleecy dressing gown, a present from her Mom, before opening the door and setting off down the landing towards the stairs. There was some juice in the kitchen downstairs, and if she was quick no one would see her.

  A noise on the landing made her stop in her tracks; perhaps it had been the same noise that woke her? All was quiet agai
n apart from the muffled voices coming from the downstairs lounge.

  A hand grabbed her arm as soon as her foot reached the top step.

  “Becky.”

  Johnny was suddenly in front of her, and from the smell on his breath, he had been drinking for most of the afternoon. His hand was squeezing her arm against the wall and she struggled against his strength. His eyes were like slits and there was a hint of cruelty behind the steely grey as he looked her up and down. She could feel her face start to flush as she realized that her gown was gaping at the front, and she quickly brought up her free hand to hold it together.

  “For God’s sake, Johnny, let go of me. You’re hurting my arm.”

  Licking his lips, Johnny sneered at her as he brought his face directly in front of hers.

  “How about a little kiss first?” His breath was hot and sour, and Rebecca turned her face away from him.

  “Fucking little tease, I’ll show you.” He slammed his weight against her, pinning her to the wall as his free hand started to work its way underneath her gown, groping up her bare leg towards her thigh.

  Rebecca was stunned. She disliked Johnny, but it was hard to believe he was capable of this, however drunk he might be. She tried to strike him and started to shout for him to stop, but he released her arm and covered her mouth to gag her. His other hand by now had slid to the fastenings of her gown and started pulling at the buttons. He was soon grabbing at the soft flesh of her naked breast, his hand rough and greedy as he squeezed at her nipple, now hard and erect in his fingers.

  “I knew you wanted me, you little bitch,” he said, and as he thrust his pelvis into her stomach, she could feel his hardness rubbing against her.

  At first she had been alarmed by his behavior, but now she felt powerless and sick at the thought of what he might do to her.

  His hand was almost suffocating her, and she thought she might black out when suddenly he released her, his whole weight lifting away from her. Someone was coming up the stairs. Without hesitating, Johnny had disappeared around the corner just as James came into view. She looked startled as she pulled the robe around her, too stunned to cry.