Mountain Daddy's Nanny

by Samantha Leal

They spent the rest of the morning preparing for the battle, never leaving each other’s line of sight, just in case Lily’s task presented itself. Together, they saddled horses and discussed the differences between their times. Lily began to focus on her attraction for Matthew, all while wondering if he had any feelings of attraction for her as well.

  The fact was, however, that Matthew was deeply attracted to her from the time that he first discovered her in his bed. There was something about her brash nature, making her unlike any other woman than he had ever come into contact with, that he found himself dreaming about her throughout the day. Her close proximity to him was not helping him overcome his feelings, either. Sure, she was fully clothed now, but he was unable to shake the deep-seated feelings of lust that were building inside him. Being around Lily for this extended period of time was only serving to remind him of how incredibly attractive she was, and how amazingly erotic she had seemed earlier that morning.

  Lily was so amazingly beautiful and saucy that Matthew could not help but wonder if there was anything he could do to convince her to stay in the past rather than return to her own time.

  Lily, too, kept looking at Matthew throughout the morning, stealing glances whenever she was able to. He was unlike the many assholes that she had dated in the past, and even her bosses at the law firm, because he was the very picture of what a gentleman should be. The “nobility” in her time were not so worried with treating a woman with respect or dignity, because they were so blinded by desire for the area between a woman’s legs. It was almost as if a woman was a trophy to be showcased, not a partner to go through life with.

  Matthew, it seemed, was so focused on trying to protect his king and his country that he didn’t appear to have an overt concern for the sweetness between her legs…but oh, how much she wanted him to crave it.

  Chapter 6

  As the day wore on, the tensions around the castle continued to grow into a nearly palpable density. Everyone was making preparations for the English, who were marching for the field near Stirling…everyone but Matthew and Lily, that was. Marion’s husband, David, had already left for Stirling to let the king know how many men to expect from the Castle Culcreuch, and the rest of the Clan Galbraith were ready to leave by early that afternoon. Matthew and Lily both mounted the horses they had prepared for the fifteen mile ride, and left for the battle that had started earlier that day.

  When they arrived, that day’s fighting had ended, but the English (knowing the importance of Stirling’s royal castle) had not withdrawn, but chose to regroup rather than abandon the castle. The next day, Matthew took up his customary position at King Robert’s right hand, and Lily took a position with the Scottish corps of archers. Within an hour, the English army had massed on the far side of the field at Bannockburn, just outside of the village of Stirling, and proceeded to march on the Scottish positions.

  “Ho’, men!” King Robert called out over the ranks of his soldiers. From her position, Lily was able to easily make out the tall, imposing figure of Matthew directly next to the King. The Bruce leaned toward him, and Matthew raised his hand, the signal for the archers to load their bows, so Lily followed suit along with the other archers in the Scottish ranks, taking aim in the direction of the English infantry that were advancing en masse across the field. When Matthew’s hand dropped, the archers all let their arrows fly, immediately cutting down most of the first line of English attackers.

  Next, Matthew (at the King’s direction) lifted his massive claymore sword in the air with his right arm, and Scottish infantry fell into ranks like a well-oiled machine. When he dropped his sword, the men began to advance across the field toward the English in uniform, disciplined ranks. In the meantime, the Scots archers were commanded to fire upon the English infantry fifteen times more before the two armies met in the center of the field, substantially thinning the ranks of the well-disciplined English soldiers.

  The carnage of war, however, began as soon as the two armies met in the center of the field. The Scots were able to fight without fear of the English cavalry, which had been effectively wiped out the day before. Before long, however, the drastically outnumbered Scots began to fall back in the face of the English horde, even unto the crest of the small hill where Robert, Matthew, and some others sat on the backs of their horses.

  Then, from out of nowhere, an arrow (which could have come from either side) struck Robert’s horse in the eye, killing the beast instantly and pinning the King beneath his mass. Lily could see Matthew frantically attempting to dislodge his King, but having little success.

  “Matthew! Watch out!” Lily screamed as the blade of an English sword was raised beside him, poised to sever his head. Lily watched in horror as Matthew turned from the defenseless king to his assailant, and engaged him in swordplay. While his chief bodyguard was busy in this fisticuffs, King Robert was left completely defenseless. Lily broke ranks with the other archers without thinking, and proceeded to run to his aid.

  When she was only fifteen paces from the imperiled king, an English officer poised himself to run him through with the sword. Reflexively, Lily loaded her weapon, and the infantry officer met his end before he had the opportunity to smite the King…she had saved him.

  At that moment, Matthew was successful in removing the head of his attacker, and the Scottish forces, seeing their King restored to the saddle of a horse, took heart and fought like wild men, smiting every Englishman within reach and forcing the forces of King Edward of England to fall back. Thanks to Lily, the day had been won, and King Robert’s throne was secure.

  “Robert would go down in history as the man who unified Scotland, and legends would grow about him that only one person on that field knew—Lily. Lily, the one whose arrow had ensured that he would survive the day, had ensured that the legend would grow.”

  Chapter 7

  “And then what happened?” Rose asked a few three quarters of a century later.

  “Matthew came over to me, and kissed me, thanking me for saving the King,” Lily answered simply.

  “Wow…” Rose exclaimed softly.

  “What?” Lily asked.

  “You know that by doing that, you basically saved the U.S., right?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah…I don’t know if you remember or not, but King James the First of England—

  “The guy with the Bible?”

  “Yeah. Well, before he became King of England, he was known as King James VI of Scotland…he became King of England when Queen Elizabeth died.”

  “Okay, so?”

  “He was a grandson of some kind of Robert the Bruce’s.”

  “I never thought of that,” Lily answered.

  And she hadn’t. After Matthew had kissed her in the midst of the victorious Scotsmen who had officially earned their independence from England, too much had happened between Lily and Matthew that the implications of her arrow had not fully registered to Lily.

  Together, they had ridden back to Culcreuch to much fanfare. The entirety of the Clan Galbraith celebrated the exploits of Matthew and the strange woman at a feast held in the dining hall of the Culcreuch Castle. A few days later, and edict came from King Robert, granting ownership of a large tract of land in the area of Stirling Castle, the title of Baron, and the right to include the motto “Friend of the King” on his personal coat of arms from then on.

  Matthew had asked Lily if she would accompany him to his new home…and she had agreed. The tension between them was palpable when they had first arrived, and finally, Lily had had enough of waiting for the erstwhile gentleman to make a move, and like the 21st century woman that she was, she made a move for him.

  “Matthew…what do you want from our relationship?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you want to see happen between us?”

  “I—I don’t know what to say, Lily,” he answered.

  “Well, if you don’t know what you want, there is no way that I can know. You need to know this,
however: I have a life in my own time, and I will go back to it…unless I have a damn good reason to stay here.”

  Matthew considered this for a minute, and finally asked, “What would be a good reason?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to go.”

  “Well, if you don’t want me to go, then why do you want me to stay?”

  “Because in the last few weeks, I have fallen in love with you.”

  “That is a damn good reason, Matthew,” Lily said, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him in for a long kiss. At first, Matthew seemed unsure of himself, until Lily pushed him into one of the empty chairs, and began removing her clothes in front of him. When she stood there, wearing nothing but her undergarments, she turned to him and said, “Aren’t you going to take yours off?”

  Matthew, finally realizing what Lily was saying, hastily began to remove his clothes as well. When he was completely naked, she instructed him to sit back down in one of the chairs. When he was seated comfortably on one of the velveteen chairs, she kneeled before him, lightly touching the tip of his lance with her tongue. When he let out a low moan that only Lily could hear, she giggled naughtily, making it plain that there was definitely more where that came from.

  She continued this for a few minutes, waiting for Matthew to nearly burst from longing, and only then did she take him into her mouth. Slowly, with painstaking precision, she used her tongue to wet every inch if his large member. All the while, however, she was becoming more and more hungry as well, and after licking and sucking on his potency for a few minutes, she finally stopped and stood back up.

  “Why did you stop?” Matthew asked in a voice that was pleading with her to resume.

  “You’ll see,” she said, grinning mischievously. Slowly, so as to continue the process for as long as possible, Lily removed the last vestiges of clothing that hugged the firm curves of her body before finally standing completely naked before her lover. “Do you like what you see?” she asked in her most seductive voice.

  “V—very much so,” Matthew answered, breathing in deeply the scent of her arousal which hung potent on the air. Lily turned around, exposing her rear to him, and sat, slowly taking in the inches of his dagger into her wet, quivering sheath. Her folds expanded and stretched as she learned to accommodate him, and when comfortable, she began to grind on him, slowly taking him in and out of her and relishing every amazing second of it.

  Thanks to the large size of Matthew’s organ, it did not take long for Lily to feel the powerful waves of ecstasy that accompany a coming orgasm, and so she began to move faster, slamming Matthew into herself repeatedly.

  “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her eyes rolling in her head, “that feels so good!”

  Matthew must have liked her vocal nature while in the throes of passion, because even through the clenching of the walls of her hollow, she could feel him stiffening as she rode and grinded on him. Finally, together, the two lovers both achieved release and collapsed on the chair, with Matthew holding her while they both fell into sleep.

  ***

  “So…you slept with him?” Rose asked.

  “Yes, of course!” Lily answered. “And we are going to get married!”

  “How long do you think you were gone?” Rose asked.

  “About five months…why?”

  “Because in my time, you’ve only been gone for a week.”

  “Wait, what?” Lily asked.

  “Yeah, you weren’t even scheduled to be home until next week.”

  “So you mean that I can use this necklace to stay there for a year if I want to, and still come back here every week?”

  “Yeah, I would think so!” Rose answered. “Why?”

  “Just because I’m living full time in 14th-century Scotland doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you, ho,” Lily answered. “I could come here and stay for a month, and the necklace could take me back so that I would only be gone from then for about five minutes if I want.”

  “Seems like it!” Rose answered. “What’s your point?”

  “My biggest fear about living in the past is that I have been worried about how hard it would be to keep in contact with you.”

  “Well, with this necklace, you can come see me any time,” Rose said with a genuine smile.

  “That’s great! Oh, I love this necklace!”

  “Well, you may have control over time and space, but I have to get to work,” Rose said.

  “Okay!” Lily said, standing to hug her friend. “When do you want me to come see you again?”

  “I think once a week will be nice, so when you get a chance or just want to get away for a bit, come visit!” Rose answered, before turning to walk to her car.

  The two women waved at each other, and Rose drove away. Lily, on the other hand, found a secluded spot, and whispered the words tempus imperium while grasping the necklace that she still had not taken off. When the gateway appeared before her, Lily stepped through it: back to both her past and present…to her one love.

  Together, she and Matthew grew to an old age and had eleven children, the oldest of which was a girl. When Lily reached an old age and was ready to die, she gave her 14th-century daughter the necklace and started the legend of the necklace, thus continuing the loop.

  THE END

  The Highland’s Call

  Jessica Savage

  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.

  Thank you so much for your interest in my work

  Chapter 1

  Andrea clutched the small stone in the palm of her hand. It felt cool and smooth and somehow strangely comforting. Her Grandmother Betty had insisted that her only granddaughter be given this small artifact on her death. That had happened over a week ago, as Andrea was driving through New York. It was almost as if she knew. An image of her beloved Gran had flitted through her mind at the exact moment she took her last breath.

  Betty was her father’s mother. Her dad Joe had died a few years ago and her mother Pat had remarried. She had never approved of her stepdad, Pete; he could never replace her beloved father.

  Perhaps she was being unfair, but she had always sided with her dad against her mum, and now the two women seemed poles apart, no longer able to communicate with each other. Pat didn’t even attend the funeral. Not that Betty would have minded. She had never approved of the union in the first place.

  Andrea had inherited her Grandma’s creative talents and she had been close to Betty when she was a child, closer than to her own mother, but after college she had been offered a three-year contract with a major advertising company in New York, and it had been too good an opportunity to turn down. Betty had understood that she needed to fly the nest. She had been a young woman once, although that seemed such a long time ago.

  Andrea had only seen her Gran when she flew home for Christmas and important family occasions. Then she had met Steve and her life in the US seemed to take on a more permanent footing, until the death of her Grandma had made her suddenly homesick for the English countryside. She loved the buzz and fast-paced life of New York but now longed for some peace and time to reflect and find herself again, and she certainly couldn’t do that on Fifth Avenue.

  Steve had stayed behind. He was in the middle of an important project but was willing to travel with her on a trip home for the funeral. For once Andrea didn’t feel the need to be accompanied; this time she wanted to be alone with her thoughts and memories. Her insistence on being alone had caused a strain between them, the first serious rift since they got together almost two years ago, and it would be the first time they had spent any real time apart.

  The pressure of the stone against her palm brought her back to the present. It had been almost five days since she
left JFK airport, and Steve hadn’t phoned her since. Not even yesterday after the funeral to see how she was coping. It saddened her to think the man she had grown to love could be so stubborn and heartless, and she began to question her commitment to the relationship. Did she really know him? He had seemed to be perfect for her, and she had enjoyed his company; yet when she looked back at the continual rounds of friends and parties, drinks and dinners, it seemed somewhat shallow. Lately she had started to feel broody; her body clock reminding her that time was ticking away. She had mentioned it to Steve once in a lighthearted way, and he had held up his hands in mock horror. That would never be the deal with him; his career was way too important, and her needs would always come second.

  Did she and Steve really have anything in common?

  The day was grey and coarse; the wind whipped up sharply from behind the trees and caused her to shiver. She had forgotten the English weather and hadn’t prepared nor packed for it.

  Opening her palm, Andrea looked down at the stone in her hand. She remembered seeing it as a child, taking prize position behind the glass in the old china cabinet in her Gran’s front room. Occasionally she had been allowed to take it out and hold it in her small palm. It was pale in color, not quite white and not quite beige. Several markings had been etched deeply into the surface, and she’d been told it once belonged to a white witch with magical powers. As a child, she had held the small token and made a secret wish that she would never grow up, that she would always remain a child. Of course, that hadn’t happened. Not physically, anyway—but perhaps in her heart?

  Grandma Betty had always been so full of life, her small blue eyes twinkling on the wrinkled and careworn face. There had been some sadness in her youth, but no one had talked of it and Andrea had never asked, but sometimes she saw a wistful shadow slightly dimming those sparkling eyes.

  And now the stone was hers—that and an old battered leather diary from 1956. Before her death, Grandma Betty had written her a letter, the handwriting barely legible on the expensive vellum cream paper. It had taken her a while to read the spidery hand.