by Mia Downing
I blinked, grasping for something that made sense. “You don’t seem to care, but was she okay with you traipsing across time and stealing shit?”
“I told you, we had rules.” He let go of my hand and leaned forward on the boulder on his forearms, looking out at the water. “Let’s say that journal was real. What would you give to hold Lofton Burke’s journal in your hands, huh? As much as you love books, wouldn’t that be a dream come true? I saw your face when you held the necklace, and you couldn’t hide the awe at holding such an iconic piece of history. Imagine reading his words and finding a legacy he had left behind…”
Damn him for being right. I’d give anything to hold Lofton Burke’s journal. I shook my head, denying the truth. “That doesn’t make it right.”
“The necklace never shows up again in history, and neither does the journal. So what makes it wrong to bring either item forward? Isn’t that what archaeologists do—find ancient artifacts, research them, and display them for everyone to see?”
“That’s not exactly—”
“And I’m taking the damned necklace back, so the morality of what I do for an incredibly lucrative living is a moot point.” He stared at the cove as if willing Lofton to come moor his ship and take him away. “If you decide to come, great. If you don’t, it will be my last trip.”
The fear returned, welling up inside me as I took a panicked breath. I wasn’t brave or adventurous. But maybe that was his fault for bringing me here. “I don’t want to go back in time.”
“Then that answers that,” he said, his voice cold and clipped.
But he didn’t have my ability to hide his feelings, and something sad and lost churned in a bunch of other emotions I couldn’t name. His energy dulled, the yellow graying and fading like it had been tainted with my jaded soul.
I didn’t want that, either. Damn him. I gently touched his sleeve. “I promised to be tolerant. I’ll…listen. And learn.”
“That’s nice of you.” He gave me half a smile over his shoulder, but his energy remained unchanged, and I had no clue what to do about that.
But then he said, “But that doesn’t cancel out the bitchiness from earlier.”
Well. Then maybe he needed a good fuck to knock the sadness out of him.
Marek
I needed a new plan.
As we drove back to the manor, I had to do everything possible to fight back the despair. Skye sat next to me, every now and then biting her lip as she glanced at me, unsure. Lust churned on her side of the bond in preparation of my threat to fuck the snot out of her. My low levels of energy had always made her bitchy. Strike that. They’d made the other Skye intolerable. As hard as it was for me to look at her and not think of her as my wife, if I wanted her to go back in time with me—if I wanted to live—I had to change that thought pattern, too.
I only had a few months to convince her to go back with me. The laws of time didn’t allow open-ended travel, not for as close as I wanted to get to the time we’d left. The longer I remained here, the less accurate I’d be in my jump. I needed to be within minutes of our last departure, if not seconds, to figure out what had happened. And the laws wouldn’t allow me to occupy a time I’d been in before, though my watch took care of that.
However, if Skye wouldn’t go with me, it didn’t really matter if I discovered the truth. I’d be there alone, and any chance of restoring her would be lost. I’d just have to return the necklace before the tides turned to make everything right. For that scenario, I could drive out to the point and jump from there instead of using the gravestone, ensuring that I could still be there at low tide. It would be risky, but I didn’t have a lot of options.
But I had some time. It would take me months to regain my energy to the fullest. If I just set a date to go back, that could force her to make a decision.
We arrived at the house, and Skye practically squirmed in her seat as she glanced at the front door, then at me, lust churning a brilliant blue along the bond, edging to green as it mixed with mine. I wanted that to be green all the time, her energy blending seamlessly with mine as it had before when she had loved me. I had to give it time.
I turned off the car, still ignoring her, heightening her anticipation of what I could be thinking. Reading my emotions would be difficult and new to her. For me, it was like reading a book I knew well, but I wanted to change the ending. Yet for her, she’d feel that I wanted her desperately. She just wouldn’t know on how many levels.
I finally met her excited yet nervous gaze. “You have about five seconds to get yourself in the house and in whatever room, because when I catch you, I’m fucking you there.”
Her eyes grew wide as my words sank in, and she gave a little gasp as she fumbled for the door. Within seconds, she bolted out and up the front steps, glancing over her shoulder as the front door stuck.
I took off after her, following her into the house, catching her at the top of the stairs. I spun her and kissed her hard, skipping all the soft, romantic nonsense. I’d been aroused since I’d gotten her off earlier, so this kiss went straight to primal and dirty. She moaned under my mouth, her fingers working the buttons of my pants.
She released my mouth long enough to ask, “What room haven’t you had sex in?”
I froze in shock. “I don’t know. The guest room?” I pointed to the room on the left.
She dragged me in there, and it took me a moment to adjust to the fact that I was going to get laid in what would be my childhood bedroom in about five hundred years. As she sank to her knees and took my length into her hot, wet mouth, I got over that fear quickly.
I savored her suction for a moment before dragging her off my cock and to her feet. Spinning her, I landed a hard swat to her ass. “You’ve been bitchy. You don’t deserve anything more than a spanking.”
“No! I’m not a child.” But the bond burned a brighter blue as she offered her consent, her panties probably soaking with need.
I gave her another spank and yanked down her jeans and thong in one fluid motion, then bent her over the end of the bed. I gave her bare ass one more slap. She moaned, and I grazed a finger along her crack and forward, testing her wetness. Oh, yes, by the slickness of her folds, this excited her. I stroked her clit a few times, alternating with a hard pinch that set her firmly on the edge of orgasm.
“Condom?” I had no clue how she felt about that now.
“Have you slept with anyone else besides me in this time?” she demanded over her shoulder.
“You know I haven’t.” I pinched her swollen clit as punctuation to my indignation. As if I’d stick my dick willingly in another woman when I could have her. “What about you?”
“Not in years.” She flopped back down. “Hurry.”
I gave her another smack for her impatience as I slid my cock along her opening, gathering wetness to ease my entrance. She squirmed against me, panting. Her bond blazed bright blue with need and compliance, so I drove home.
“Harder,” she begged with a moan.
I complied, grabbing her hips as I closed my eyes and reveled in the mixing of our energy, in her soft cries, in the perfect squeeze of her inner core as she gripped my length.
Her orgasm and the after blasted me without warning—I always knew. Surprised, I fumbled to finish, my brain numbed with the stunning power of her energy as it flooded the bond, filling my reserves. Then she stunned me by peaking again, this one larger than the first, the flood of after effect almost too glorious to bear. But I managed to crest into orgasm, joining her in blissful ecstasy.
Gasping, I turned her so I could collapse to the bed but remain inside her to enjoy the aftershocks of her pleasure. I scooted her up a little so my longer legs wouldn’t hang so awkwardly, and I hugged her tight, my hands caressing her stomach and breasts as I kissed her neck.
After a long moment, she said, “I’m sorry. About what I said about the money. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I say stuff like that.”
Stirring the pot with the
truth—that I knew her, that my low energy had probably made her nasty—would just piss her off again. Instead, I kissed her cheek, letting my lips linger a little longer. “You were sorry the moment you said it. I felt it. That’s why I hugged you.”
“Oh.” The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed once for the half hour. “Why didn’t you have sex in this room before now?”
I laughed. “This will be my childhood bedroom in the future. The thought of doing it here… I was always…” I had no words in English.
“Creeped out?” she offered.
“That works.” I hugged her tighter. “But then you sucked my cock and took care of that fear.”
She giggled. I don’t think I’d heard that from her before, and it sent a quiver of delight over my skin.
Shivering, she snuggled closer to me, wrapping my arms tighter around her. “Where else haven’t you had sex in this house?”
That was a good question. “Jealous?”
“Of course.” She turned slightly so she could peer over her shoulder at me. “And don’t tell me I’m being jealous of me. I don’t buy that crap.”
“Okay.” I hid a smile. I would have been more surprised if she had said no.
“In fact, I want you to do something for me.” One fingertip traced the back of my hand. “I want you to start finding ways to look at me as different than her, to see I’m not her. Can you do that?”
My mind whirled, and a part of me balked. She was my Skye, one in the same.
But the smart part of me wanted to live to have sex in all the places I’d never had sex. With her. I needed to put the new plan in motion.
“I can,” I offered, “if you promise me something, too.”
She stiffened a little. “What?”
“You need to remain open-minded about the time travel.”
She clutched my hand, the bond lacing with her fear. “Marek—”
“Skye.” Shit. I had to tell her the truth sooner rather than later about our last trip. I had to find out if that was what scared her so badly. I’d written about that last journey in a book I’d sold as fiction…and she’d find out about that soon. I had an appointment to meet with Todd tomorrow to discuss more marketing. But telling her terrified me.
I sighed and lifted her hand to press a kiss on the back of it and sent her some calm energy to soothe her. I hated setting a date to go back now when she was distressed, but I had to. She’d need time to adjust. “You need to be accepting, because I’m going back first thing on March fifteenth. I’d rather go with you.”
She wrenched her neck to look at me, her blue eyes round and darker with alarm. “When did you set a date?”
“A second ago.”
“Just like that?” Brows dipping in a frown, she demanded, “Why that date?”
“Why not?”
“No good comes on the Ides of March.”
I laughed softly. She’d quoted a book we’d both loved in the past…and in the future. She couldn’t have known. “But sometimes, it does.”
I couldn’t bear to tell her what that date meant to me. If she would go back with me, it would be the best day of my life. But if she wouldn’t…I didn’t want to spend another birthday without her.
“Marek.” Her energy swirled with anxiety and panic, the lighter, joyful blue turning dark as it increased.
I sent soothing, yellow energy toward her as I mentally counted the months. “It’s five months away. Let’s just enjoy each other in that time, okay? I’ll learn about you, and you learn about me. It goes both ways.”
She didn’t answer, though. She clutched my hand tighter, her shoulders rolling away from me. The dreaded barrier popped up between us, blocking me from sensing her emotions and seeing her truth.
“Skye?”
“Fine.” She swallowed loudly as she struggled out of my arms and off the bed, her hair concealing her face as she dragged her sleeve across her cheeks.
The tears confused me. Why would she cry about this?
She turned her back to me as she yanked up her pants. “But I want proof that you’re learning about me. And you’d better find a whole list of places new to have sex.”
“Why are you upset?”
She turned back to me, her chin lifting in anger as her lip curled. “I was happy until you just barged into my life to tell me when you’re leaving. Why the hell would I be happy about that?”
“We could go together and return.”
“And you could have just stayed out of my life.”
“Do I need to fuck you again? Because you’re getting bitchy.” Maybe I’d made a mistake by setting a date. A huge one. A better man would have just stayed out of her life. That wasn’t me. “Come here.”
“No.”
But she allowed me to tug her back to the bed so she faced me. I kissed her sad lips as I smoothed her hair from her face. “Sweetness. I want to stay with you. Okay? I’m not like everyone else who didn’t understand you or has shoved you away. I want to stay.”
“The end result will be the same.” But she relaxed and leaned against my chest, inhaling against my neck.
Sighing, I hugged her tighter. “It doesn’t have to be.”
But it would be…unless she changed her mind.
Chapter fourteen
Skye
I went to work the next morning with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. I was eager to test whether I could touch people now without cringing, but I dreaded having to explain my issues with Marek to Grace.
I’d kept Grace updated throughout my day yesterday, sneaking a text when Marek wasn’t looking. She had thought our day was “romantic.”
And it could have been if I hadn’t been a bitch about the time travel and if he weren’t plotting his next journey. But I couldn’t tell Grace any of that.
I’d gone home to my own bed, making him drop me off after dinner even though he’d offered to have me sleep over and take me in the morning. I had wanted to stay and curl up next to him. But did I want to get that comfortable? This man would leave me in five months unless I could convince him otherwise.
The way I’d survived my childhood was to not get invested since no one lasted in my life. Marek saw through that on some level. He’d hugged me several times when I’d been upset as if knowing that was exactly what I needed. But see it or not, he’d leave me, too.
By ten, I’d helped two elderly customers dropped off from the assisted living complex by bus. When one had patted my hand and the other had grabbed my elbow for balance as I escorted her back to the bus, nothing noteworthy happened. Usually, I’d get a mild shock of annoyance, and at the worst, I’d be violently ill. But maybe Marek had been right. If my energy wasn’t seeking to find him and repair the bond, then maybe this could become like background noise that I’d learn to ignore.
But would that change if I took down my protective barrier?
As I waited for the bus to pull away from the sidewalk, I tested my theory and dropped my protection. The energy burned bright, but I felt nothing but that steady stream of blue and yellow heading toward each other.
But wait. I blinked. That neat little location aspect of the bond told me that my yellow, sexy bond buddy was across the street in the bakery. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as my breath caught in my throat at the thought of seeing him again. I squashed that down fast, hoping that wouldn’t shoot across the bond and betray that I might like him or something rash.
A second later, Marek’s head popped out of the bakery door, and his surprised gaze met mine.
“Don’t move,” he hollered across the street. He ducked back in.
I wasn’t waiting on the sidewalk without a coat. I gave the two elderly patrons a last wave and headed inside to wait for Mr. Sunshine to cross the street.
“They gone?” Grace asked as she shut the register.
“Yes. And Marek is probably on his way over.”
“Oh, good,” she said with her gaze glued to the computer monitor.
S
he didn’t ask from where or how I knew or any other nosy things she usually asked. I squinted with suspicion. “You knew he was coming here.”
Before she could answer, the bell over the door announced his arrival. He carried two bags from the bakery and a tray that held four hot drinks. His gaze met mine, and the bond brightened with the brilliance of the midday sun in July, all sunny and bright and happy to see me. No one had been happy to see me before. Not like that. My breath caught again, and I compared his bland, professional expression to the brilliance of our bond that now edged with a little lust.
Marek set down the tray, casting me a confused glance as he handed me coffee. “Did you have breakfast?”
“Yes.” My stomach growled.
“Lying doesn’t suit you.” One brow quirked as he handed Grace a cup and one of the bags.
“She never eats breakfast,” Grace offered as she pulled out her baked good.
“Oh, sure, just toss me under the bus while you take his bribery muffins.” But damn, I could understand her shift in loyalty as she bit into hot, crumbly perfection. “How did you know he was coming?”
He answered for her. “I emailed and asked what she wanted, and if she thought you’d want something, too.” He held out a bag, and when I went to grab it, he snatched it to his chest. “It’s yours if you’ll speak with me in private for a moment.”
“Go on,” Grace said with a wave when I silently pleaded for help.
Sighing, I gestured to the fiction section, and he tossed the bag on the counter and went first. He walked to the back of the room toward my office. I wanted to see what his ass looked like in his charcoal-gray dress slacks, but he wore his long, woolen coat, hiding that from me. I frowned. Would that show up on the bond as curiosity or lust?
We hit the end of the store, and he turned, drawing in a deep breath as his dark-blue eyes drank me in. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I shifted and sipped my coffee to hide my nervousness.
“Look, before you get jealous—”
