Bigger on the inside: Space, Time Travel, Alien Criminals (A Space Time Travel Mystery Book 1)

by Alianna Smith

  “I’d better put this in the fridge. And I want to show you something,” Rose said eventually. After a short detour to the kitchen, where she put the bubbly in the fridge and picked up their drinks, she led him to the patio.

  “This is beautiful!” Dave said as he sat down in the love seat, picking up the book she’d been reading. “Don’t tell me you’ve done this.”

  Rose shrugged sheepishly. “The garden still needs some work, but I couldn’t resist the sunshine.” She passed him his drink and sat down beside him.

  “Rose,” he said. He must have seen her colourful knee as the skirt of her sundress had ridden up her thighs.

  “I know. I swear I haven’t left this seat unless I needed to since I finished,” she said, sipping her drink. The alcohol took almost immediate effect, reminding her of the fact that she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

  “You seem a little tense,” Dave said, putting down his glass on the low table. “Here, let me help you.” He took her by the waist and moved her to sit between his legs so he could give her a back rub. Luckily, the seat was deep enough to allow both of them sitting comfortably on the small sofa. Rose felt herself relax almost immediately as Dave touched her and began to run his hands over her back and shoulders.

  “You’re very good at this,” she sighed, dropping her chin to her chest.

  “Rita was often tense,” he said, pausing briefly in his ministrations as it registered with both of them what he had just said.

  Rose reached across her shoulder to cover his left hand. “You don’t have to do this if it brings up painful memories.”

  “It brings up beautiful memories, in fact,” Dave said. “Please don’t wrap me in cotton wool because of her.”

  She felt chastened and dropped her hand into her lap. Dave was right. Not all memories were painful; most memories of the Doctor made her smile and helped her when she felt sad. To assume it would be any different for Dave was just wrong. “I’m sorry.”

  Dave took a deep breath and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, just next to the strap of her dress. “Don’t be sorry. Mourning is a solitary business.”

  Rose turned in his embrace and draped her legs over his thigh, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Sometimes I lose myself so much in it that I forget that Mum and Mickey miss him too.”

  “Aye,” he murmured, kissing her gently. “Paul told me the other day he’s starting to forget the sound of Rita’s voice.”

  “It’s strange how that’s the first thing we forget about people, isn’t it? It’s such a dreadful realisation when we start to forget. Did you manage to comfort him?”

  Dave rested his forehead against hers. “I hope so. Sometimes it feels like I’m the worst father in the world.”

  “Now, that’s not true, and you know it,” Rose said, cupping his cheek. Pete had confided in her after he’d had a whisky too many that he didn’t feel as though he was a good enough Dad to Tony and her. She drew Dave towards her for a lingering kiss.

  “I failed Lucy.”

  “No, you did not. Now stop your self-flagellation,” Rose said, touching his lips with her fingers. Dave smiled and pressed a kiss against them. “Would you rub my shoulders a bit more, please?”

  He obliged her and they sat enjoying their caresses — punctuated by the occasional kiss to her shoulders and neck — in silence. When Rose had had enough, she leaned back against him, and Dave slid his hands around her stomach. The breeze had picked up a little, but it was still too warm to make her shiver.

  They were sipping their drinks when the first fat raindrops started to burst on Rose’s bare skin. Although she jumped at first, startled, she giggled, raising her face to the sky. The cold raindrops felt great on her overheated skin. Dave, however, startled her most when he touched her chin and made her turn her face towards him so he could kiss her. He tasted slightly salty at first, and of sunshine, and of Dave. She gave herself over to his kiss with a contented sigh and opened up beneath him. The kiss became very passionate and she felt her womb tighten.

  When they came up for breath they held each other’s gaze for a long while, and Rose had never been so close to telling that she loved him. He was about to say something but she wanted them to be silent, to enjoy the magic of the moment, so she touched his lips with her fingers again. It was amazing how receptive he was to that silent plea.

  “We should go inside,” he said after a while, nuzzling her fingers. The rain had become stronger; she could feel the drops running down her bare legs. It felt good and strangely invigorating. The Doctor would have thrown back his head and laughed along with her, she thought. Dave was too much of a father to be carefree about things like this.

  “Yes, let’s,” she said. They grabbed the cushions, book and glasses and headed inside. After spending the better part of the weekend outside it felt strange to be in the confined space of her dining room and kitchen again. Rose turned around to close the patio door against the rain and the wind. Dave wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her against his body. His warmth was even more electrifying now that it mingled with the scent of the rain hitting warm stone and hot skin.

  “When did it get so dark?” Dave asked. The bad weather had indeed moved in faster than they’d thought, and the patio was bathed in the twilight gloom of a summer thunderstorm.

  “The breeze is delightful, still I’d better close the windows,” Rose said.

  “I’ll help you,” Dave offered, nuzzling the mole behind her ear, making no move to let go of her. Rose let him kiss her for a little while until she started to squirm a little.

  “Please, Dave, we really need to…”

  “Yes, I know. I just love standing her with you, like this.”

  “I’ll be back in a tick. You can start cleaning the strawberries if you want. They’re in the fridge, and you’ll find a bowl and knife over there,” she said, pointing at the kitchen cabinet and drawer in question. To her surprise, Dave let go of her, and she moved away quickly.

  In her bedroom she closed the window only as far as absolutely necessary. The air in the spacious room smelled of summer rain. Following an instinct, Rose moved to light the various candles she had placed around the room. Soon, it was bathed in the flickering light of the candles; along with the patter of raindrops against the window, she thought that it was the perfect setting for finally seducing Dave.

  In the kitchen Dave was cleaning the strawberries at the sink. The light at the window was just bright enough for him to see properly. Rose padded to the fridge to get out the bubbly he had brought, and the bowl of mascarpone creme. He jumped slightly when she opened the fridge and gave her a quick smile before returning to his task. Rose enjoyed the soft tinkle of the glasses when she got them out of the cabinet.

  “Done,” Dave said after he had washed the strawberries and placed them in the glass bowl. He turned around, wiping his hands on a tea towel. He stepped towards her and took the bottle from her. “Here, let me.” He liberated the cork from the neck of the bottle with a satisfying plop.

  “I love you,” Rose said as he placed the bottle in the champagne bucket.

  Dave’s head snapped up, his expression full of wonder and surprise at her words. “Ye do?”

  “Yes. I love you,” she said. “Let’s take this upstairs.” She took the glasses and the champagne bucket, nodding for him to pick up the strawberries and the creme. She heard him follow her upstairs, and when she entered her bedroom she put the bubbly down on a small table she kept beside her chaise longue. Dave joined her, placing the two bowls carefully next to the cooler.

  “One might think you’ve been planning to seduce me,” he said.

  “What if I have been?” Rose asked.

  “I’d be most willing,” he replied. “Because I love you, Rose.” He smiled after the words had left his mouth.

  Rose closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck; his hands, in turn, went to her waist to pull her close. They kissed to reassure eac
h other of the truth of the three words with which they had just entrusted each other.

  “I don’t want to wait any longer,” Rose said.

  “Aye, it’s been long enough.”

  Apart from the patter of raindrops and the wind the room was quiet for a while. Dave eventually started to unbutton his oxford until Rose batted his hands away and started to slip the buttons free of the holes herself. Dave dropped his hands by his sides and watched her as she worked. When she brushed the sides of his shirt away he helped her by shrugging out of it. Rose ran her hands up his stomach and caressed his pecs, brushing her thumbs over his nipples and through the smattering of hair on his chest. She heard him hold his breath.

  “It’s funny,” Rose said, placing a kiss on either side of his chest.

  “What is?” He ran his palms lightly up and down her arms.

  “We’ve seen each other naked,” she said, “still, this is like discovering each other.”

  “We are discovering each other, Rose.”

  “Yeah. I’ve dreamt of it.”

  “Ye have?”

  “You haven’t?” she shot back.

  “I have.”

  She grinned, tucking the tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth. Then she raised her arms above her head to invite him to take off her sundress. Dave lifted the hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her in her powder-blue knickers and bra. She saw his eyes go wide and she smiled gently, colouring a little as she realised the effect the ensemble had on him. She had chosen it on a whim earlier that afternoon; it was new and she wanted to feel good about herself even if no one saw her in it. She couldn’t have chosen a better outfit if she’d actually planned on seducing him. It was just perfect.

  “I haven’t dreamt of this, though,” he said, dropping her dress beside him.

  “Good,” Rose said. “I’d be scared I couldn’t live up to it.”

  Dave started to feather his fingers over the lace and satin, running them along the edge of the cups, barely touching the soft skin of her breasts. Rose held still, letting him explore. Eventually, his hands drifted up the straps and when he lowered his hands he took the straps with them, pulling them down to kiss her shoulders. Reaching behind her, he deftly undid the hooks and brushed the bra off her arms and chest. Then he bent and repeated what she’d done to him, cupping her breasts and brushing his thumbs over her nipples. Rose sucked in the air at his touch.

  “My turn,” she said, fiddling with the fastenings of his jeans. They were so loose that she wondered how they stayed up in the first place. Either they were really baggy because they’d been in the wash so often or he had lost weight after losing Rita; she thought it was probably a combination of the two. When she brushed the denim down, she deliberately ran her palm over the the cotton covering his erection. Dave hissed softly as she sank to her knees to pull the trousers down and help him step out of them.

  “Rose,” he said as she looked up at him. She could see in his eyes that her kneeling before him excited him. But there was also fear in them and Rose bit her lip. Obviously, the idea of her pleasuring him made him uncomfortable, but she wanted to spoil him a little. So, without offering him a chance to protest, she pulled down his pants. Reaching for his calves, she helped him step out of them. Then she took him in her mouth.

  He cried her name and his fingers tangled in her hair.

  She closed her lips around his hard cock and smoothed her tongue against the pulsing vein on its underside, dragging it along his length with some pressure. She experimented a little until she heard him moan, and she felt the rush of her own excitement pool between her legs. This seemed too easy.

  “Rose, please,” Dave groaned. His fingers pressed against her scalp, urging her to stop.

  Rose let go of him. His voice had sounded distressed, and the last thing she wanted was an uncomfortable Dave. She smoothed her palms against the crease where his thighs dipped into his groin. It was perfect. “What would you like, Dave?”

  “I…” he began, his voice cracking.

  “I’d love to make you come with my mouth,” Rose said, more boldly than she’d ever been before. It was the truth, and being able to be completely honest about her own desires to him just felt right and wonderful.

  Dave swallowed hard at her words.

  “I really do. And I don’t expect anything in return. Apart from you enjoying it. Do you trust me, Dave?”

  “I do.” He loosened his grip on her head, his fingertips just a light touch to reassure her.

  Rose smiled, gripped the base of his penis and guided its head to her lips. “I love the way you taste and feel,” she said, dropping her voice subtly so as not to scare him off.

  Dave merely nodded. He dropped his right hand from her hair and found her left one. Their fingers wove into each other’s and it was thus that Rose teased and caressed him until he washed over her tongue. She closed her eyes as his pleasure made him groan out her name.

  When she let go of him, his weak knees buckled and he joined her on the hardwood floor, crumbling into her embrace. Rose pulled him close, dropping kisses onto his hair, wondering what she had done to him. His breath was ragged at first, but the longer she held him, rubbing his back, the calmer he became.

  “I love you,” she said in reassurance.

  Eventually, they moved onto the bed, where she lay half on top of him, her hand protecting his heart. Rose couldn’t find the words to tell him how right she felt this was. She dropped the occasional kiss to his chest and caressed him lazily.

  The rain was still pelting against the window panes, and together with their regular breathing Rose couldn’t imagine a more soothing sound.

  “I love lying here with you, like this,” Dave said.

  Rose purred in reply. She snuggled up closer to him, curling her fingers into his chest hair. He was running his fingers lazily up and down her left arm, sending shivers down her spine. Rose couldn’t think of a time when she’d felt more at peace.

  “I love you, Rose Tyler.”

  Rose gave his right side a gentle squeeze as pleasure washed through her.

  “I’d love to make you come with my mouth,” he echoed her earlier words.

  Rose shifted so she could look at him. “Please don’t feel obliged to return the favour.”

  “I want to taste you, Rose.”

  He moved out from under her and sat back on his heels, looking at her in the twilight of the thunderstorm. Dave took her hand and placed a kiss in its palm. “I really want to.” He then removed her knickers as unceremoniously as she’d taken off his pants, flinging them somewhere in the room. As far as she could tell they hadn’t landed on any of the candles.

  Rose lay back and raised her hands above her head to tell him that she was his.

  Chapter 25

  He desperately wanted to show her how much he loved her, but he feared his attempt would pale in comparison to what she’d already given him. It had been a rare treat for Rita to go down on him, but for Rose it seemed the most natural thing to do their first time together. And here she lay before him, giving herself over to him.

  “Dave?” Rose asked, propping herself up on her elbows. Her voice and eyes were laced with concern.

  He stared at her, unable to find the right words. To his horror, Rose sat up, scooted over to him and pressed her lips to his, cupping his face. “Let’s have a picnic,” she suggested.

  Before she could climb off the bed, he caught her by the wrist, loosening his grip around her as soon as she stilled. “I’m a little overwhelmed,” he said.

  “Don’t be, my love,” Rose said, kissing him gently. “Let’s have that picnic and a cuddle. I love snuggling up during a thunderstorm.” It was still much too warm to snuggle up, but Dave nodded gratefully, at the same time unable to shake the feeling that he was letting her down. She’d succeeded in her goal to seduce him, and his response was to chicken out even though he wanted nothing more than to make love to her. Maybe it was still too soon a
fter all.

  She slid off the bed and went to the small table to fill their glasses and mix the mascarpone crème with the strawberries. Passing him a glass, she sat on the bed, one leg tucked under, balancing the glass bowl on her knee. They clinked glasses and sipped the cold, effervescent beverage in silence. Dave’s gaze kept wandering to their handprints on the wall.

  “I can’t believe you kept them,” he said.

  Rose looked at him wide-eyed, obviously contemplating her words carefully. He remembered what she’d said about the meaning of the white wall and mentally slapped himself. Of course she’d keep them to remind her of what — who — she had lost. If he was indeed the Doctor’s doppelganger, their handprints would be more or less the same. He dropped his gaze to the strings of bubbles rising from the narrow bottom of his glass, watching them break at the surface. He’d better leave, accepting the blow-job as a parting gift.