Timeless

by Brynley Bush

  The girl standing next to me had tried not to laugh but she couldn’t help it, and the sound of her giggle had seeped through the cracks in my heart and settled there. She was stunning, with long, dark blond hair and sultry almond-shaped eyes the color of summer leaves tinged with autumn’s golden touch, and for the first time in years, I was interested in a woman for more than just a quick fuck to let off some steam and assure me I was still alive before I deployed again.

  She told me her name was Ariana and explained I had been asking for toilet water instead of tonic water. “Quite vigorously, in fact,” she’d added with that intoxicating low-pitched laugh. “And when she told you that you were a disgusting American, you agreed with her wholeheartedly.”

  That set her off again, and when she finally stopped, she charmingly apologized for laughing. I suggested she make it up to me by having dinner with me, and to my surprise she agreed. We’d stayed at the sidewalk café talking and drinking Chianti until the proprietario told us we had to leave. She was bold and confident and charming and funny and I’d walked her back to the flat where she was staying and asked if I could see her again, even though I knew it was a mistake. I was a good bit older than her, and infinitely more jaded. She had her whole life ahead of her. She deserved better than a battle-scarred, world-weary soldier like me.

  But I had been powerless to resist her, and we spent every minute together for the next three months. Unlike me, she spoke flawless Italian, and we spent the days exploring Italy and the nights exploring each other. In between, we talked. I learned she adored her father, whom she was very close to, was an only child who dreamed of having a big family of her own someday, hated mushrooms, loved alternative music, and would shiver when I kissed the little birthmark in the shape of a crescent moon above her hip bone. I told her about growing up with a single mom in a gang-ridden, poor neighborhood east of Los Angeles, how I’d had to learn to be tough, and how I’d joined the military when I was eighteen so I could go to college and make a better future for myself and my mom and had fallen in love with the discipline and purpose of my job.

  The only thing we didn’t talk about was the future. She was twenty-four and spending the summer in Italy before going back to school in the fall. I had told her I was on leave from my military job, but I didn’t mention that I was a Navy SEAL and would likely be deployed again in October. There was no point in telling her. What we had couldn’t last anyway.

  When September finally came, we said our goodbyes, but in the end neither of us could bear the thought of not seeing each other again. We promised to try a long distance relationship and made plans to meet for a weekend in New York in a few weeks’ time.

  A week later I’d walked into the FBI’s Academy to speak to the students in the Fundamentals of Threat Analysis class and the director of the FBI had introduced me to his daughter, a new agent at the academy with long, dark blond hair, hazel eyes that darkened with passion when she came, and a crescent moon birthmark over her left hip.

  Her father was no idiot, and he’d known who I was immediately. He’d pulled me aside after my class and told me what I already knew—if I loved Ariana, I’d let her go. I left that evening without a word to her, and until I found her cuffed to a spanking bench at the Five Pines Resort last night, I hadn’t spoken to her again. And now she’s here, standing in my kitchen, all spunk and sass and laughing eyes, even though I’d done unspeakable things to her last night.

  “No need to press charges. I’ll take you back to the lodge later this morning,” I promise. “But first, let me feed you breakfast. Sit down.”

  “You’re still bossy,” she grumbles, but she sits down at the small pine table.

  I slide a plate of hot scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon in front of her along with a steaming cup of coffee. She wraps her fingers around it gratefully. “Thank you,” she says. “I didn’t have much for dinner last night.”

  I take the seat opposite her and spear a forkful of fluffy eggs. “How’s your dad?” I ask conversationally.

  She freezes for a moment, her fork in mid-air, and then she takes the bite, chewing carefully before answering. “He died six months ago. Pancreatic cancer.” Her voice is flat, the grief still evident on her face.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

  Despite my personal feelings for the man, we both loved Ari, and I know how close they were.

  “Thank you.” She clears her throat and then looks me directly in the eye. “Listen…about last night…”

  Ariana McKnight is not a woman who shies away from anything, and as always, I admire her boldness. I’d been lying last night. I’d never doubted for a minute that she’d make it through the academy with flying colors, probably outperforming the other agents who were bigger and stronger than her.

  “Yes, about last night,” I say deliberately.

  “You don’t need to apologize,” she begins.

  “I didn’t intend to,” I reply evenly. “You should have gone home when I told you to.”

  “Are you used to women always doing what you tell them to?” she asks incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  She studies me consideringly, trying to determine if I’m serious. “So you go to clubs like that a lot?”

  “I used to.” When I thought it might burn the memory of her from my mind. “But not so much anymore. In fact, I hadn’t signed up for the retreat at Five Pines. I only came last night because Gavin knew I was in town for work and he called me to see if I’d come and babysit you.”

  “I didn’t need babysitting!” she huffs.

  “Yes, gattina, you did,” I say quietly. “Did Michael do anything for you? Make you aroused? Get you out of your head so you felt nothing but the sensation?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but if he’d had a little more time…”

  “Domination and submission is about more than just some guy tying you up and beating on your ass. It’s about relinquishing control and trusting someone enough to be vulnerable with them so they can push you to experience more.”

  “Maybe Michael wasn’t the right guy,” she admits, “but I would have found a Dom who was eventually.”

  I feel an irrational stab of jealousy. Like hell she would have!

  “You don’t have to go to a club like that to find a partner who’ll give you what you need in bed.”

  “How do you know what I need in bed?” she asks grumpily.

  I take her hand in mine and turn it over palm up, tracing it lightly with my finger. “Believe me, Ari. I know.”

  She pulls her hand away. “So is this your cabin?” she asks casually, obviously eager to change the subject.

  “Yes. I bought it a few years ago when property rates were at an all-time low. I rent it out a lot during ski season, but it’s nice to come stay here myself when I need to get away from the world. It’s pretty remote. Other than a few other cabins like mine, my closest neighbor is Five Pines, and it’s still about ten miles from here.” I stand up and take her dishes, which I deposit in the sink with my own. “Want the five second tour?”

  “Sure,” she nods.

  I wasn’t kidding. The log cabin is small—just a master bedroom and bath, a large open living area, and a kitchen. But there are breathtaking views of the Rocky Mountains from practically every room in the house, thanks to an abundance of floor to ceiling windows, a huge stone fireplace, and an outdoor deck with a fire pit and a hot tub.

  “This is beautiful,” she breathes reverently as we step out onto the wood deck overlooking the forest thick with Aspen trees. Amazingly, the snow is still falling. I’ll bet we’ve gotten twelve inches since last night.

  “You want to get in?” I ask, noticing her staring longingly at the hot tub.

  She looks up at me in surprise. “Now? It’s snowing!”

  “That’s the best time. It’s warm enough in there to keep the cold at bay,” I say with a grin.

  She wavers, considering. Then she looks down at my t-shirt, which falls almost to he
r knees. “I don’t have a swimsuit,” she says regretfully

  “You can wear your underwear. Well, what little there is of it.”

  She flushes at that. “You should probably take me back to the lodge. There are some classes I wanted to attend today.”

  “Sounds intriguing. What kind of classes?”

  “Um, some kind of rope class. A class on flogging techniques.”

  Her cheeks have turned crimson. God, this woman is killing me. Maybe it’s best to leave what’s between us unfinished. It’s a hell of a lot better than slicing my heart open again.

  “Right. I should get you back.”

  She doesn’t move. “Well…maybe we could get in for a little bit. The classes don’t start until two.” She shoots me a pointed look. “But I’m wearing my clothes in,” she adds defiantly.

  “Suit yourself!” I say. I casually strip off my sweatpants and t-shirt and climb into the hot, bubbly water, but I can feel her eying me appreciatively, which does nothing to diminish the raging hard-on I’d gotten the moment she walked into the kitchen.

  She hesitates for a minute and then climbs in and sits across from me, sighing with pleasure as the bubbles surround her. My t-shirt clings to her breasts, her nipples visibly hard beneath the wet fabric, and my cock throbs painfully.

  “So how have you been, Ari?” I ask softly. “No husband or brood of children at home?”

  “Not yet,” she says with a hint of wistfulness. “That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I just haven’t met anyone who I can’t live without, and I refuse to settle for anyone who doesn’t seduce my mind and set my heart and my senses on fire.” She takes a deep breath and smiles. “But I’m good. Great, in fact. I graduated from the academy at the top of my class and was assigned to the Miami office for seven years. I moved to the Austin office a couple of years ago.”

  “I’m proud of you. I knew you’d kick ass and take names.”

  “You did not! You said you didn’t think I’d make it a week.”

  I wink. “I lied. You have more tenacity and spirit than anyone I know. You’ll always come out on top at whatever you choose to do.”

  “Obviously I could say the same for you,” she counters. “So why did you get a medical discharge?”

  I tip my head back, studying the mountains in the distance before answering. “I was shot during a mission in Afghanistan. I probably would have died if one of my men hadn’t realized how much blood I was losing and insisted the medic give me a transfusion with his own blood right there in the lifeboat.”

  I don’t tell her it happened less than a month after I’d walked out of the FBI academy that bright September day without a backward glance, or that I always suspected her father had been the one who suggested I be called to step in for the team’s commanding officer when he requested a leave of absence to be with his terminally ill wife. It had been the kind of mission that we all knew we might not return from. I had returned and mostly recovered, but my injury had devastating effects that would impact the rest of my life.

  “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  I shrug. “Everything happens for a reason.”

  “Like you being a guest speaker at the academy that day and realizing I was the FBI Director’s daughter?”

  I can’t help but smile at her forthrightness. “You might have mentioned it,” I suggest lightly.

  “You might have mentioned you were a Navy SEAL,” she counters.

  “I told you I was in the military.”

  She rolls her eyes. “That’s like saying chocolate mousse is just a dessert, or Louboutins are just shoes.”

  “Would it have made a difference?” I ask softly.

  She shakes her head. “Probably not.”

  “It was for the best.”

  “The best for who? You?” Her eyes flash angrily. “I’ve always wondered. What did my dad promise you? Did you get a promotion for leaving without a word? I know my dad. He didn’t think anyone was good enough for me, but definitely not a Navy SEAL who was older than me.”

  “Your dad was right. I was too old for you and I was gone for months at a time. You had your whole life ahead of you. What did you expect me to do?”

  “I expected you to fight for me, dammit!”

  Her eyes, bright with unshed tears, meet mine. A lone tear spills onto her cheek and I can’t stop myself from leaning forward and wiping it away gently with my thumb. She pushes me away and abruptly stands up, reaching for a towel as she gets out of the hot tub.

  “This was a mistake. I want you to take me back to the club now.”

  I climb out of the hot tub too, wrapping a towel around my waist as I face her.

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Why? You said yourself you shouldn’t have taken it as far as you did last night. But just because you’re not interested in me doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have a chance to find someone who is.”

  “Dammit, Ari. You obviously haven’t forgiven me for leaving, and maybe I don’t deserve your forgiveness, although I did what I thought was best for you. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you think I walked away because I didn’t want you.”

  “But last night…”

  I take her chin in my hands. “Last night I was sorry I let you manipulate me into flogging you, but seeing as how you were so intent on feeling the sting of the flogger, I’m not sorry I was the one to give it to you.” There was no way in hell I was going to let another man touch her while I was there. “But it certainly wasn’t a hardship. I’ve fantasized about you more often than I care to admit. I’ve never stopped wanting you, Ari,” I say softly.

  Chapter Four

  Marcus

  I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. It trembles, and just like that, I’m fucked. With a growl, I fist my fingers in her hair, holding her still as my lips meet hers. I lightly trace the edge of her upper lip with the tip of my tongue, gratified when I feel her give in as her body yields to mine. She sighs as I deepen the kiss, my tongue parting her lips to slip inside and tangle with hers. My God. She tastes like a thousand stars…like all the magic and mystery in the world...and I never want to stop kissing her. But she’s shivering, and I realize she must be freezing standing out here in my waterlogged t-shirt.

  “You’re cold,” I murmur. In one swift motion, I grasp the hem of her shirt and peel it off of her. She’s wearing nothing underneath but the tiny black thong, but it’s better than the soaking wet fabric holding the cold against her.

  “Hey!” she protests.

  Wrapping the towel around her, I scoop her into my arms, carry her into the living room, and set her down in front of the roaring fire, letting the heat warm her.

  “Stay here and warm up while I get you another shirt,” I say.

  Holding my gaze with hers, she unwraps the towel and deliberately drops it to the floor.

  “Make love to me, Marcus,” she whispers.

  I’m as powerless to resist her as I was ten years ago. I may go to hell for it, but I don’t care. The way I see it, one more glimpse of heaven is worth a lifetime of hell. And there’s no doubt about it—it will be hell to lose her twice. But there’s not really a choice.

  “Turn around.”

  With a small smile she obeys, turning to face the fire as I quickly drop my own towel and peel off my wet boxers. I come up behind her and trail my fingers lightly over her stomach, inordinately pleased by the way it quivers under my touch. I pull her back against me, her sweet little ass pressing against me as I cup her breast. I lift her hair and press my lips against her neck, using my tongue and mouth and teeth as I softly kiss my way up her neck to that sweet little hollow behind her ear. My thumb brushes over one erect nipple and she moans. I pinch it lightly as I bite her earlobe and I smile as she squeaks.

  I play with her a bit longer, kissing and nibbling her neck as my fingers torment her sensitive nipples, plucking and teasing and pulling and twisting until she’s squirming, her bottom rubbing against me erotically.
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br />   I turn her slightly and she tips her head back to look at me, her eyes stormy with passion. With gentle fingers, I tilt her chin up and kiss her. This time I don’t stop until she’s breathless, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. I lift her into my arms, marveling at how tiny she is, how perfectly she fits next to me as she snuggles into my chest, how her silken skin burns against mine. Gently, I lower her down onto the soft fur rug in front of the fire and she stretches sensuously, her back arching so that her small, perfect breasts thrust forward.

  With a groan, I fasten my lips over one, feeling a stab of pure male satisfaction as she purrs and arches even more into my mouth. I tease her relentlessly, my lips and tongue brushing over each impossibly stiff point before gently biting down and tugging, then pulling back to circle each nipple lightly with the tip of my tongue before starting all over again.

  “Dammit, Marcus,” she curses softly. “Please!” She lifts her hips in sweet supplication.

  “I like the way you beg,” I say with a small smile. “Don’t stop.”

  I kiss lower, over the flat plane of her stomach, stopping to circle her naval before continuing my languorous exploration of her body. I intend to memorize every inch of it so I can remember this for a lifetime. My tongue blazes a path over her hipbone and I can’t help but trace the outline of the little crescent moon there before pressing another kiss against her soft skin. She shudders delicately.

  I stop when I’m between her legs, my eyes feasting on her sweet pussy. It’s bare, and I can see the trickle of moisture between her swollen lips. A man could die happy between an aroused woman’s legs. I part her gently with my thumbs and gaze a moment longer. She’s got the sweetest little clit, glistening like a tiny pearl. I can’t wait to bite it.

  “Marcus. Stop!” She tries to close her legs, embarrassed by my blatant scrutiny, but I hold her open to me.

  “It’s been a damn long time and I intend to savor every look and taste of you,” I murmur. “Now lay still and be quiet or I’ll cuff you again, and gag you as well.”