by Jen Bradlee
"First of all, I would never—mark my words—never take advantage of a woman." His gaze roamed over her, and he grinned. "And secondly, if you are desperate to blame someone for our journey through time last evening, look no further than that mirror right there."
Hannah shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
He sighed. "According to Andrew, the fireplace is the portal that will transport a person through time."
Hope sparked in her chest. "So I can go home?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't work that way."
Lucian ran his hand through his hair and then down across his face. "It seems it only works if your heart's desire aligns with fate."
"How the hell do I know that?" Hannah tried to roll off the bed.
Lucian offered his hand, which she took, and eased her to her feet. They stood facing each other. Hannah's heart raced. Lucian held her hand, interlacing his fingers with her own.
"Andrew studied it for years, and there have only been a few times where he has seen it work."
"The missing employees," Hannah mumbled.
Lucian sighed. "He experienced it firsthand, and somehow, he knew you would meet me on the night of the hundred and twentieth anniversary masquerade ball."
"So, you're telling me I can never go home?" Hannah asked.
"Only you know your heart's desire, my love." He brushed a lock of hair away from her face.
She closed her eyes at the contact of his fingers against her skin. He'd called her my love before, but she'd assumed it was just a meaningless term of endearment. His touch mingled with those words made her weak.
"If you wish to go home, I will not stop you." Lucian stepped away.
Hannah stepped around him and went into the room where the fireplace dominated the far wall. She felt Lucian's presence behind her, but couldn't bear to look and risk seeing the disappointment in his eyes.
When she approached the fireplace, Hannah braced herself. "Home is where your heart is, I guess." She leaned her hand against the mantle and closed her eyes.
"Take me home," she whispered.
The scent of wood smoke surrounded her. Her heart fluttered as a sense of calm settled deep in her soul.
Hannah opened her eyes and stared at the mantle for a moment before turning.
Lucian stood in the doorway, his hands clenched in fists. The look of disbelief on his face melted into one of joy. He grinned.
"Welcome home, my love."
Hannah ran across the room and threw herself into his arms.
He held her close, burying his face in her hair.
"Is this what you want, Lucian?"
"Yes, without a doubt." He pulled back and took her face between his palms. "But I must confess something."
She covered his hands with hers. "What is it?"
"As I prepared for my masquerade last evening, I was to announce my proposal and engagement to a young woman I had just met." He dropped his hands to Hannah's waist when she tried to pull away from him. "Just listen, love."
Hannah crossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.
"It was to be a business deal, nothing more. I do not know her, and I certainly do not love her." Lucian sighed. "I was about to leave for the ball when I found myself in your presence."
"I don't understand," Hannah said, a bit confused.
"In a moment of childish impulse, I wished for a woman who would challenge me, who would satisfy not only my body but my mind as well." He reached up to brush his thumb across her jaw. "Then I saw you."
Hannah sighed and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment, she asked him a question that nagged at the back of her mind.
"Why did we return to your time? Did you know we would return?" She pulled back to look up at Lucian.
"I merely followed Andrew's instructions. He told me to take you to this room and follow my heart." He smiled. "I think he knew exactly what would happen."
"Damn it, Andrew," Hannah mumbled under her breath. "He set us up."
"I believe you may be accurate in your assessment, my love." Lucian bent his head and kissed her.
The sweet kiss developed into something deeper, desperate and more carnal. Hannah clung to Lucian. The passion consumed them just as it had before.
Lucian pulled Hannah into the bedroom and shut the door. He turned to her and eyed the dress. Before she could say anything, he began to unlace and undress her. It took him much less time to strip her clothing off than it had for Sarah to put them all on.
When he pulled the chemise over her head and tossed it to the ground behind them, she stood before him completely naked except for her stockings and shoes.
Lucian stood back and admired her from every angle before saying anything. "Put your right foot up on the chair, Hannah."
She did as he instructed, feeling vulnerable and wicked, even as desire pulsed through her body, making her wet.
He dropped to his knees before her.
"Oh, God," Hannah murmured as he put his hands on her hips and brought his lips to her aching pussy. Lucian teased her with his tongue, pulling her lips into his mouth, running his tongue over her clit and then sucking on it until she fisted her hands in his hair.
He gazed up at her, his eyes impossibly green, his mouth buried in her pussy. It was so fucking hot.
His fingers trailed along the inside of her thigh and parted her folds. Hannah gasped as he slid them into her. He caressed her walls as he licked her. It seemed as though he knew exactly how to play her body to make it purr. She ran her hands through his hair, tugging gently when he hit just the right spot.
"Oh, yes," she moaned. "Right there, yes." She licked her lips as she felt the oncoming storm of her orgasm.
Anticipating her body's reaction, Lucian suckled harder and fucked her with his fingers until she trembled and the damn burst. She came hard, all over his hand and mouth, her body shaking from the force of it. The pleasure bursts rocked through her until he finally rose to his feet before her.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and licked her juices still clinging to his fingers.
Hannah fanned herself at the action. How could something so vulgar be so fucking hot?
Lucian took her hand and placed it on his chest. "Take my clothes off."
She put both feet firmly on the ground before unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. Her hands moved across his body, slowly removing every article of clothing, including his shoes, until he stood completely nude before her.
Hannah didn't even try to hide her appreciative gaze as she stepped back. He was all hard angles and defined, lean muscle. His cock stood at attention, begging for her touch. She rested her hand against his chest and met his gaze.
As she trailed her hand lower, Hannah watched his reaction. He swallowed hard as she brushed his abdomen. When she wrapped her hand around his cock, his eyes closed, and he growled. She stroked his length a few times before he moaned and put his hand on hers, stopping her.
Lucian shook his head. He put his hand on her hip and backed her toward the bed.
She collapsed against the soft mattress and blankets. He climbed on top of her. She backed farther up the bed. He followed her, stalking her.
Finally he pinned her, grinding his hips against hers.
"Mine," he said in a guttural, gravelly voice.
"Yours," Hannah replied before kissing him.
Their tongues danced. She savored his taste and his strength. This was where she wanted to be, with Lucian. It didn't matter what century, as long as she was with him.
He nudged her legs apart and slid between her thighs. Hannah whimpered as he brushed the head of his cock against her entrance. She reached down and grabbed two handfuls of his ass.
Lucian thrust into her, filling the ache and the need. He kissed her hard while he drove into her, over and over. Hannah didn't want it slow. She wanted him to fuck her.
"Harder, Lucian," she whispered in his ear. "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk."
"Promises," she moaned as he increased his tempo. "You make me want to be bad."
Lucian rolled onto his back, pulling her on top. She stared down at him, surprised by the action.
"You wish to speak like a whore," he said with a shrug, "then I will treat you like one."
She caught the glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He tried to bait her. She grinned and ground her hips against his, riding his cock.
He gripped her hips and bit his lip. His gaze lingered on her breasts as they bounced from her movements.
Hannah rode him to a blissful high before reaching down and brushing her fingers over her clit. Her mind shattered when she came, a string of curse words falling from her lips. She continued to fuck him until he tensed beneath her and found his own release. His warmth radiated through her.
She collapsed against his chest and they lay there, still joined, in silence for a few moments.
Lucian stroked her hair. The action nearly put her to sleep. She lay contented and sated in his arms.
The thought of being trapped in another century didn't terrify her as much as she thought it would, especially not when she had Lucian to guide her.
"People are going to ask questions," Hannah said, giving voice to her wandering thoughts.
"They will," he agreed.
"What will we tell them?" She propped herself up and met his gaze.
"Nothing." He held her tight. "Except that you are mine, and I am yours. That should suffice."
"There will be rumors, you know this." She wiggled against him.
He groaned. "Let them speculate."
"What about the woman you were supposed to marry?"
"Do not worry." Lucian rose up and kissed her softly. "I shall speak to her and her father this evening."
She sighed at the brush of his lips, the taste of him. Her tongue darted across his mouth, begging entrance. When he opened and took possession, his cock hardened deep inside of her.
Hannah pressed her hand against his chest and pulled away from the intense kiss. "If we start again, I may never let you out of this bed."
Lucian sighed. "As much as I would enjoy that, I have some things to attend to which cannot be delayed any longer."
He kissed the tip of her nose and rolled her off to the side.
Hannah sprawled across the blankets, arching her body with a delighted groan. She watched him dress. The way his muscles pulled and contracted as he drew on every article of clothing. Who knew watching a man dress would be so erotic?
Once he'd dressed, Lucian walked over to the desk at the far end of the room and opened the drawer. He returned to her side, placing an envelope in her hand.
"Andrew asked me to give you this." He smoothed back his hair and straightened his cravat. "I shall return in a few hours. If you need anything, ring the servant's bell by the door. Sarah will come attend you."
He leaned down to kiss her again before leaving her alone in his bedroom.
Hannah stared down at the envelope in her hands. She climbed from the bed and pulled on a silk robe hanging from the hook behind the door. After securing the knot, she picked up the letter and ventured into the adjoining room. The large wingback chair nestled in front of the fireplace called to her. She curled up on it and turned the envelope over in her hands.
Hannah was written on the front in cursive. She carefully opened it. Several sheets of paper were tucked inside. Holding her breath, she withdrew them.
My dear Hannah,
I knew this day would come. And while I'm very glad it has, it breaks my heart all the same. You deserve answers, and I apologize I'm not there to give them to you in person.
Would you have believed me? It wasn't until I saw you with Lucian this evening that I truly believed what I'd known for years. That you and he were destined to be together.
Let me tell you one last story, my dear.
I've done many odd jobs over the years, but one in particular put me on a journey sixty-nine years in the making. Although I hadn't known it then. As a young man, my first position as a bellhop also put me in the position of errand boy.
One afternoon, I'd been tasked to sort through the archived records. They needed photographs to hang in the newly renovated lobby and gallery. Specifically, they requested I find a photograph of Lucian Lachlan.
As I searched, I found myself lost in the history of the building and the owner. Alas, I only uncovered one photograph of Lucian, which was later hung in the lobby. But it sparked a curiosity in me. So I began my journey as a historian of the Grand Lachlan Hotel.
It wasn't until I met my wife, Sarah, who appeared to me exactly as Lucian appeared to you in the Founder's Suite, that I realized the unique qualities the hotel possessed.
Sarah told me of her life and her service to Lucian and his family. I loved her with all my heart, but I found it hard to believe she had traveled through time. As the years passed, I noticed the disappearances of employees, and the strange stories surrounding the hotel mirrored my wife's tale.
I delved deeper.
Sarah helped me find information and photographs of Lucian and his family. Even several with him and his wife at the annual masquerade balls over the years. I researched him until it nearly became an unhealthy obsession.
When Sarah passed, my heart shattered, but I realized I could no longer obsess over the hotel's founder. So I retired and became the hotel's official historian.
Your parents trusted I would care for you as though you were my own child. And I did my very best to ensure I lived up to their expectations.
I remember the moment it all fell into place. I'd been sorting the hotel research I'd accumulated over the years, when I found a photograph of Lucian Lachlan with his wife, standing beside the hotel fountain in their finery.
You walked in at that moment, and the resemblance was eerie. I turned the photograph over to glance at the name and date. Lucian Lachlan and wife, Hannah, December 1899.
How could my then nineteen-year-old Hannah be in this photograph with Lucian?
I realized Sarah had told me the truth. And all the times she spoke of Lucian's Hannah, she was speaking about you. My heart ached, because I knew I would lose you, although I had no idea when.
Then I found something Sarah had hidden away in her trunk. An item I never touched, not until ten years after her death when I realized the truth.
Hannah Lachlan's journal. In it, I saw how you lived. A contemporary woman in the Victorian age. Even more important, it told me how long I had until you were whisked back in time.
Forgive me for not telling you. For keeping those last years to myself. I was selfish, but it would have been more selfish to keep you from your destiny.
I'm sure by now Lucian has explained the fireplace, and you've realized you can no longer return to your time. But I know that you are home.
Lucian will take good care of you, and I know you will care for him as well.
Know that I love you and am very proud of the woman you are and will become.
All my love,
Andrew
Tears spilled from her eyes masking the words and staining the paper.
"Oh, Andrew," she sobbed.
Hannah unfolded the last page and looked at the image printed on it. Her hand covered her mouth as a choked laugh burst forward. Beneath it was Andrew's handwriting. This is it.
A worn but recognizable image of her and Lachlan standing in front of the hotel fountain.
She cried until the tears no longer fell. The letter lay in her lap as she stared into the fireplace. Grief, hope, love, regret, and a hint of fear mingled together creating a war of emotion deep inside her. Hannah lost herself in the tide.
The door opened, and Lachlan stepped in.
He spotted Hannah sitting before the fire.
"Are you well, love?" he asked, stopping beside the chair. He rested a hand on her shoulder.
She smiled. "Yes, I'm fine." Hannah tucked the letter back inside the envelope. "Andrew said goodbye."
Lucian kissed the top of her head. "If you are feeling well enough, I would enjoy your company at dinner."
Hannah glanced down at her robe. "Damn it. I'm not dressed. It's not like I can throw something on quick."
He drew her to her feet. "I will help you dress."
She followed him into the bedroom. "I doubt that."
"I undressed you, did I not?" he picked up her garments and helped her put them on.
Hannah glanced at the letter in her hand before setting it on the desk. "Lucian, can I make a request?"
"Anything, just name it."
"I'd like to keep a journal." She turned to face him as he put the corset on her.
"As you wish, I shall procure one in the morning." He walked around her and began to lace the infernal contraption, keeping in mind her sensitivity to it.
"Good thing these go out of style in a few years," Hannah said with a smirk.
Lucian's hand stilled. "Hannah." He leaned close, his lips brushing her neck. "Would you think me wicked if I asked what else you know of the future?"
She turned and gazed into his gorgeous eyes. "That depends."
"On?"
"If you're planning on changing history?"
He shook his head. "Curiosity, mostly."
"Then you're in luck." Hannah kissed him softly. "Because I love history."
"Could you love me too?" Lucian drew her close, his arms around her waist.
"We'll see. Only time will tell." Hannah glanced at the letter on the desk, and her heart soared.
Biography
Jen Bradlee can get away with murder, metaphorically speaking of course. She is a sensual woman who enjoys people watching, belly dancing, and taking walks in the rain. Give her a man who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and plays hard. The ones with rough edges and a little scruff are the best. She finds cathartic release when she pours all her fantasies and desires into her writing. Comes with a warning label. "Too hot to handle."
Her sexy romantic side comes out in her writing. Inspired by Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Cumberbatch, she creates characters who have multiple facets to them...the gentleman in the streets but with a wild, dangerous side behind closed doors. She loves villains and anti-heroes, bad boys and irredeemable men. We all have a dark side, sometimes it must be freed.
