In the Time of the Caveman

by Samantha Leal

  He raised his dark eyebrows and pursed his lips as if hoping she wouldn't continue. She laughed, and then her lips were against his, their warmth gripping him hard, taking him by surprise. It awoke something fierce within him, a pent up energy that he'd been ignoring for all these years, utilizing solely for the purpose of survival. She gasped in surprise as he lifted her with all his strength, settling her on his lap where she could feel the manifestation of his desire burning through their clothes. It excited and aroused her, and she pressed herself experimentally against it, flushing slightly when he responded with a kiss on the neck.

  He let his hands roam her perfect body, finally allowing himself to take a moment to appreciate it all. It had been right there in front of him all this time, but he had never felt like it was okay to look; like if he did, it would be a blinding siren's call to certain death. Not that she was a siren, it was more like he didn't trust his own mental discipline. But now it was different. They were somewhere safe. It wasn't even light out yet, they had nowhere to be in particular. And everything felt right.

  Layne shuddered, the alien feeling of another person's fingertips on her flesh making goosebumps stand out on her arms. The threadlike tendrils of pleasure he wove through her caught her in a web, and even if she tried she wouldn't be able to avoid succumbing to the guilty pleasure of his body. He was a strong man, both in spirit and body, and once upon a time she would have stared at him like he was a piece of meat, imagining what might be going on in his head and assuming there wasn't much else to him than that. But here he was, showering her with gentle kisses, his eyes sharp and senses calculating, doing just so to elicit just such a response, treating her with the curiosity and wonder of a virgin making love to his first girlfriend.

  She almost thought him timid, but no, he tore her shirt off after toying with the buttons; licked her clavicle and nibbled her ears as he pushed off his boxers, revealing his swollen member, engorged and more exciting all on its own than any one of her sexual memories. His touch was intoxicating, as if he had waited all his life just to unleash his prowess on one woman, and now that she was there, and they were together, she would receive nothing less than royal treatment.

  He was lifting her again, she was floating weightless, helpless, struggling to submit but ultimately losing the battle and happier for it. He kissed her, their tongues dancing in one another's mouths, stoking the fires inside of them until suddenly it was done – he was in her and she was moaning with a pleasure deeper than anything she had ever known. She held tightly to his bronzed shoulders as they kissed and made love, and he uttered appreciative and reverent groans as he thrust slowly and deliberately inside of her, amplifying any pleasure she might feel to incite his own.

  He stayed in control so long that she almost thought he was robotic, and then she sucked his neck, licked his earlobes, scratched gently down his back and saw his control waver. His inhibitions rippled away and he was hammering, thrusting harder, deeper, until she buckled against him, screamed in rapture, shuddered and climaxed again and again, until her contractions squeezed him inside of her, eliciting the rupture of his orgasm, filling her with an explosive flood of power. It seized her and would have brought her to her knees if she were standing up, and they collapsed, breathless, onto the bed, curled around each other like pleased kittens, nibbling each other's lips in bliss until they fell back asleep.

  Chapter 11

  It was late afternoon before they woke up again, bathroom breaks notwithstanding. The sun had finally risen, and they stretched comfortably in the cabin. They'd gotten used to the smell sometime during the night, and without it, and with the touch of the sun, it was actually really cozy. Layne laid in bed, looking at the pictures on the walls, a framed leaf plated with gold on a cream mounting board; a motivational phrase embroidered onto a scroll, encouraging everyone to live in the moment and believe the best is possible. She recognized the quote from somewhere but couldn't quite place it anymore. It had been too long since she dared to wander into a library. Most of them had water damaged books, and the smell of mold was too much for her allergies. She might as well have rolled around on a rug made of cat fur.

  Finally, she gazed at the perfect sleeping body of Jax. She let her eyes roam in full golden glory what she hadn't been able to see in the dark. It had been the best sex of her life, nothing could possibly compare. His hand was resting on his bare chest, and she touched it, unable to believe that somebody so mysteriously powerful had come into her life. But there he was.

  He gripped her hand tightly as he opened his eyes. He looked well-rested for the first time since they met. She realized that he never seemed able to fully relax – he was always on the alert, looking out for danger, watching out at all times so she wouldn't have to. It was nice to see him have a break for a change. It was something that she would like to get used to. He deserved some peace of mind once in a while.

  “Good morning,” he said with a smile.

  “Morning,” she replied.

  She was worried that her breath smelled bad. She had cardamom seeds in her bag. She hoped that once they were planted they could chew on them to improve their oral hygeine. She had a toothbrush but without toothpaste it wasn't exactly breath-refreshing. Most people didn't bother anymore, but she did her best. It was something she and Jax had in common. The people in the tribes were too miserable to care much about their hygeine.

  Jax sat up, kissing her on the cheek, and cracked the window by the bed open. They were hit with a smell that Layne found intoxicating, and she had a sudden urge to run outside and play like she would have when she was just a young girl. The fresh air and the trees awakened her.

  “Let's go explore!” she exclaimed. “I want to see what it's like here.”

  “All right,” he said, laying lazily on the bed, everything tantalizingly exposed but his groin. Each knew what the other was thinking, and he tackled her back onto the bed.

  When they were done, they pulled their clothes back on and headed outside with their backpacks.

  “I really like it here,” Layne decided. It had a good feeling about it. Good energy, as if it had been inhabited by kind people. After a while of wandering, you got a sense like that about a place. She tried to avoid old homes because the bad feelings were the worst, especially when you were alone.

  Jax nodded.

  “Look, it gets better!”

  They had suddenly come upon a gravel pathway. They glanced at each other excitedly. Each side of the path was littered with edible berry bushes.

  “This is quaint,” Jax said, plucking a berry from its stem and popping it into his mouth. Layne laughed. Jax was the kind of person who would say “quaint and mean it.” She followed his lead, picking a handful of berries, and they began walking down the path, unsure of what they would find.

  “Why do I feel like this is Hansel and Grettle?” Layne asked as they moved forward cautiously.

  “Maybe we all feel like characters in a book when things are too good to be true, because we believe the catch will come at any minute.”

  “What if I choose not to believe in a catch this time?” The day had been too perfect.

  “We'll find out when we reach the end of the path,” Jax said with a shrug.

  They fell into a comfortable silence as they walked, picking berries and eating until finally, they reached a clearing. They stared at the sight in disbelief, clinging to each other's hands tightly.

  They were standing in front of a giant solar panel, surrounded by a garden – boxes of raised beds with old, shriveled, plants wilting in them.

  “This is unreal,” Jax said, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. If he had glasses he would put them on right now.

  “Pinch me,” Layne whispered. Jax pinched her butt and she laughed, pushing him away. “Ass.”

  He grinned, turning to her, giddy with pleasure.

  “This means running water. They would need a well out here. Layne, you can have this. We can keep it. You can have a home again!” />
  The threat of the wild dogs seemed like a distant memory. Here was the remains of somebody's dreamland. A place that was already growing its own compost. The animals got into all of the food of course, they would have to be careful, but it was a start. They embraced tightly, and Layne wept tears of joy. Jax held her tightly, kissing the top of her head. She would be safe her, and they would stick together, creating a home, somewhere stable where he could bring his brother to safety.

  THE END

  The story continues in Book 2, available now from Amazon

  Touched Through Time

  Samantha Leal

  Copyright ©2015 by Samantha Leal. 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.

  1.

  The clock on the nightstand ticked loudly in time with Ryan’s snoring. Miranda closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it, determined, somehow, no matter what, that she would relax and get to sleep. It was nearing 4:00am and this was now the sixth night in a row that she had lay awake worrying about the future and she was sick of letting it beat her. Life was really kicking her ass and now it was starting to ooze out of her pores. The stress was overpowering and she felt full of adrenaline and fear constantly.

  She turned to stare at Ryan and her heart sank. Even when he was asleep and in the most vulnerable position possible, he still looked dangerous and mean. She rolled over as quietly as she could, trying to not move the mattress too much for fear of waking him. If she did, she knew what it meant. Another black eye or shouting down. She didn’t dare breathe until she was sure she had gotten away with it and then relaxed down onto her pillow and exhaled. The clock read 4:06… It had been a long night.

  It hadn’t always been this way. Only months before, Miranda had been blissfully happy. She was late twenties, happy in her career and starting a relationship with a guy who was not only gorgeous, but seemed to adore her. He’d been impossible to resist when she had finally given in and accepted the opportunity to go out on a date with him, but as time passed and Ryan’s hold got stronger, the charm disappeared and made way for possessiveness, insecurity and ultimately mental abuse. Miranda was crushed, but after being the strong and confident woman she had been, she found herself slipping inside herself and becoming more and more isolated. Her friends seemed to have forgotten she existed and she found herself relying more on Ryan when really she should have been pushing him away. When he eventually turned around in the middle of an argument and socked her in the eye, it wasn’t much of a surprise. She had been expecting it and hated herself intensely for being so weak. She’d let him get away with it all and now she was stuck with him. He had moved into her apartment, and she was too scared to ask him to leave. She didn’t even know how she would broach the subject, and now, here she was tossing and turning all night, terrified of waking him because she didn’t have to nerve to evict him and move on with her life.

  The job had been the last straw. She didn’t even know how it had happened, but she was on disciplinary leave from her office for misconduct. She was an assistant at a law firm and although she knew it hadn’t been her who had spoken to the press and leaked details of a certain high profile case, she was somehow in the firing line as the secretary of the acting partner… and now she had been suspended without pay whilst the investigation was ongoing. There had been no warning. She had simply been called into the boss’s office and told that she had to take her things and go home. They didn’t even ask her if she had done it or not, they just informed her that someone had provided evidence that it had been her. She still couldn’t think of who it could be, and she began to think that she had been picked at random just to take the fall for whoever was really guilty. Maybe she was just the easiest target. The day she had come home in tears and told Ryan what had happened had been one of the worst of her life. All she wanted was some guidance, support and someone to listen to how unjustly she had been treated, but Ryan snarled at her and called her a stupid bitch. She was devastated and had gone to bed crying, just wishing she was somewhere else entirely.

  She knew she wasn’t going to get out of the situation by lying awake and worrying about it, but she couldn’t help it. Miranda had always been a dreamer who thought the best in everyone, and now here she was with a boyfriend who bordered on evil and someone in her midst at work who was trying to set her up and get her fired. She had always worked so hard at doing the right thing and respecting and treating people well that she thought everyone else was like her… how wrong could she get?

  Ryan let out a loud snore and Miranda jumped. As he stirred, she bit her lip in fear and clamped her eyes closed tight. The last thing she could handle when she was that sleep deprived was him waking up and yelling at her.

  She peeked towards the doorway and thought about the spare bedroom down the hall. Did she dare try to climb out of bed, creep down the hallway and climb into it? Maybe she would be able to switch off easier if she was alone in there… but she knew it would only lead to an argument in the morning.

  You’ve really gone and got yourself in a shitty situation, she thought. Put up and shut up. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes again. There was no point in worrying. And after thinking over the disciplinary and investigation at work again she decided that when her alarm sounded the following morning, she would get up, get dressed and make her way down there to set the record straight. She had been too timid to make a fuss before now, but she was sick of being walked all over and if it was one thing she didn’t want to mess up, it was her career.

  Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow I’ll tell them they’ve got it wrong. Tomorrow, everything will be better.

  2.

  Ryan woke early, dressed, and left her in peace. She was glad she didn’t have to spend the morning being pleasant with him when she really just wanted him to get out of her house. She had debated on a few occasions over just changing the locks while he was out at work, but now she didn’t have an income, and she needed him there to help pay the bills. She had squandered her savings on a series of lavish vacations with her friends a year before when she was single and with no responsibilities, but now she was regretting that decision because she was trapped. Financial freedom would have meant being able to get rid of Ryan, but she found herself dependent and it hurt her pride more than ever.

  She pulled on a tight suit dress and a little black jacket, slipped her feet into her black court shoes and pinned one half of her hair back over her shoulder with a little silver clip. She looked groomed and elegant and she was sure that after spending the past three years of her life working at the firm, at least one of the partners would listen to her when she told them that none of it was true. She applied her lipstick and blotted it before making her way towards the door. “No more moping around,” she said aloud, “It’s time to take back control of your life.”

  One of the downfalls of living and working in a small town was that everyone seemed to know your business. As Miranda crossed the street outside of her building and made her way down towards Main Street, she saw at least five friendly faces who all seemed to want to talk to her about what had happened at work.

  “So are they clearing it all up for you, Sweetheart?” one of her neighbors, Mrs. Paver asked her, “I mean of course you didn’t do it… They must know that?”

  “Well, I would hope so,” she said confidently. “I’m actually just on my way over there now to discuss a few things.”

  “Terrible business,” Mrs. Paver said as she shook her head, “I’m sure they will catch whoever is responsible.”

  “Well, as long as they accept that it wasn’t me,” Miranda smiled hopefully. “Have a good day Mrs. Paver.”

  She trotted off down the street, hoping she wouldn’t have another run-in with a nosy neighbor. Even though most of them were harmless, after eve
rything that had happened with her job, she couldn’t help but feel sometimes that they were more interested in the gossip surrounding her than her actual feelings.

  Her heart began to beat faster as she approached the tall modern building on the corner of Main Street. Blake & Fox Law had stood tall and proud there since they had razed and rebuilt the building in 2009. Miranda started there in 2011 and had been a dedicated and valued member of the team up until the press ran a story about one of their most notorious clients. The journalist cited a source close to the firm who had provided them with the details that were not only confidential but also unknown to many people in the firm. Sure, quite a few people would have been able to view the information about the case, especially the PAs who were working on the correspondence and providing admin support, but with Miranda being the acting partners’ number one, the blame seemed to instantly fall on her.

  “You viewed all of the documents more than anyone else,” Mr. Blake had said when he’d called her into his office, “We have no choice but to suspend you without pay pending an investigation.”

  “But I didn’t do this,” Miranda had pleaded, “You know this isn’t me!”

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t discuss this any further.” He had shown her the door, and she had left dumbfounded. That had been a week ago and now she was sick of being in the dark. She needed answers and she wasn’t going to be brushed off again.

  As she approached reception, her heart seemed to catch in her throat as she saw Jessica, the cute little office girl, sat behind the welcome desk, filing her nails and gazing off into space.

  “Hi, Jess,” Miranda smiled sheepishly. “I need to speak to Mr. Blake.”

  “Hi,” Jess looked unsure, “Umm, okay, just give me a moment.”

  She fiddled with her switchboard and held the phone receiver to her ear. “Miranda’s in reception,” she said quietly. “She needs to speak with you.”