“I find you nothing but delightful.”
“Yes, but that’s because you want to get into my pants.”
“That is highly offensive.” He frowned, wondering if he had given her that impression by his actions or if she just held misguided notions about men. Perhaps it was both. “If I have led you to believe that I desire you simply for your ample, lush person, then allow me to disabuse you of that notion right now. I believe I’ve mentioned the fact that my cousin’s wife claims I could be a model. Whether or not that’s true, the fact remains that women have always been available to me. Women of all hues, sizes, and shapes, I would add.”
Gwen looked furious. For some reason, that pleased him. Could it be she was jealous of the other women who’d been in his life, even though they had little meaning to him now that she occupied his attention? “Oh, really,” she said in a drawl that was meant to grate on him, and it succeeded admirably. “No doubt you’re going to detail all of your relationships for me, so I can see just how available they’ve been for you.”
She sounded like she was grinding rocks between her teeth.
“No,” he said thoughtfully. She was definitely jealous. On the whole, he felt that was a good sign. Too much jealousy could become problematic, though, and would require steps on his part to assure her that he was not a man who believed in multiple partners at any given moment. But a little jealousy, an awareness that he had favored her above all other women, was, on the whole, not a bad thing. “I don’t see that such a discussion has any benefit to us.”
“Good. Because if we had to go into a mutual dissection of our past relationships, I was going to have a hissy fit. The reason my ex-boyfriends are ex is because I don’t want to think about them anymore.”
“Just so,” he agreed amiably.
He stopped suddenly, a horrible, vile, reprehensible thought striking him with the impact of a meteor on the moon.
Gwen had ex-boyfriends. Men she had been intimate with. Worse, men she had probably loved, men to whom she had given her heart and soul and splendid, incredibly sexy body. Who knew how many of them there were out there, smugly living their lives secure in the knowledge that they had once engaged her in a way that was by right his. The fact that she shared porraimos with him proved that they were fated to be together, and yet great big herds of men roamed the earth who had dared to usurp his position.
“Are you growling?” Gwen asked, giving her horse a wide berth in order to come around the front to look at him. “Is something wrong?”
“I am not a vindictive man,” Gregory informed her. “I am calm and sensible and with the exception of that which concerns you, always weigh my options before acting. With that in mind, you will furnish me with the names, locations, birth dates, mothers’ maiden names, and dates concerning all of these former boyfriends. A spreadsheet with pertinent links to related Google Earth and social media entries is preferable, but if necessary I will take notes while you dictate the information to me.”
She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then began laughing so loudly that her devil horse, laying back his ears, danced an agitated circle around her, the various bundles and baskets attached to the saddle making clanking noises. She held on to his bridle, wiping her eyes once she was able to bring her hilarity into check. “Oh, Gregory, I can’t thank you enough for that laugh. It totally distracted me from how miserably hot I am. A spreadsheet with Google Earth links.” She chuckled to herself as she led the horse forward.
He hesitated, wondering if he should inform her that he wasn’t actually joking, but decided after a moment’s introspection that he would hold off that discussion for a later date.
They walked for approximately two hours, sometimes talking about the sights they saw (mostly deer, sheep, and cows) and sometimes enjoying a companionable silence, each deep in his or her own thoughts. Gwen seemed disinclined to discuss any of the weighty issues that occupied his mind, and he wordlessly agreed to the truce, content to simply enjoy being in her company.
He volunteered to water the horses while she went to cool off in the lake. That accomplished, he hobbled the horses as instructed, doled out their supplemental feed, pointed out the ample grass to be had for the savvy horse who knew his way around the concept of grazing, and returned to their little camp to lay out the food contained in the picnic basket before shaking out the two bedrolls that had been attached to the saddles. Once all was arranged to his satisfaction, he went to tell Gwen that their supper was ready.
She was naked. Naked and wet, her dark hair slicked back like a seal while she swam lazily near the shore, a look of abstract pleasure on her face. He imagined the cool water caressing her flesh. He imagined how it would turn her already satiny skin into that which resembled oiled silk. He envisioned the way the water would lap gently at her breasts and woman’s parts, and all those wonderful other bits and pieces that made up the enticing whole.
It took him all of three seconds to uncleave his tongue from the roof of his mouth and strip himself before plunging into the lake with much splashing. The noise caught her attention and she stopped swimming to stare at him, her eyes widening as the water closed over his (rampantly erect) penis. Not even the chill of the water could quell his aroused state. Once the water was waist-high, he dove, heading straight for the two long legs that sang such a sweet siren song.
“Glorious heavens,” she gasped as he broke the surface of the water. He pulled her to him, reveling in the feel of her body sliding against his. The water reached to about the middle of his chest, allowing him to stand in the soft mud of the lake and hold her tight. The sensation was almost as good as her mouth, which he tasted again and again until they were both out of breath.
“It’s not heaven yet,” he promised with a knowing look, taking a gulp of air. “But give me a couple of minutes, and it will be.”
“Gregory—”
That was all he heard before he dove back into the water, pulling one leg up so he could kiss a watery path upward to her thigh. She squirmed, her hands windmilling in the water to keep her balance. He released that leg, waited for her to put her weight on it, and repeated the process with the second leg.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked when he surfaced again. He bent to take one plump breast, bobbing on the water and clearly awaiting his attention, into his mouth. Her flesh was cooled by the water, the contrast between it and the heat of his mouth making them both moan. “Do the other one. Do the other one!” she demanded. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him on.
He obliged, swirling his tongue across her nipple, savoring the feel and taste of her, but needing more. Oh, so much more.
“More!” he said, unable to find any of that suavity that he was so known for. His brain had stopped all unnecessary processes, such as language and thoughts of anything but Gwen, focusing the full of its power on one thing: his need for her.
“Hell, yes, more!” she agreed, and slapped her hands on his arms. “Now!”
He grinned and dove again, picking up the serpentine line of kissing at her knees and heading straight for her hidden secrets. He couldn’t hear her moans as he probed and touched and swirled his tongue around in a manner that he hoped would please, but he judged by the way she clutched his hair and pulled him closer to her that she was, in fact, enjoying his attentions. He knew he was, although when the dark spots began to form in front of his eyes, he reluctantly admitted that there were limits to what even he could do.
“Nnrng!” Gwen said when his head popped out of the water. Her eyes were glazed, her hands urgent on his chest. “No stop!”
“Be patient, my demanding one,” he said as he gasped for air, amused that her brain, too, had ceased its ability to form actual words. “I shall take you to the finish line, have no doubt of that.”
“Yes, yes!” she yelled, pulling at his hair. “Finish!”
Filling each hand with one rounded globe of her ass, he pulled her hard against him, lifted her up s
o that her legs were around his hips, and said, “You must help me, dulcea mea.”
“Are you insane?” she snarled, pounding at his shoulders. “I can’t even think, let alone do anything but teeter on the precipice of the most amazing orgasm ever. If you don’t finish it, I will die, and then you’ll have to explain to my two moms why I died unfulfilled. And let me tell you, they will have a thing or two to say about that.”
He grinned again, kissed her because he just couldn’t believe how wonderful she was, and then, for both their sakes, clarified the situation with, “You have to guide me into you, Gwen. All I’m finding is your hip socket. Unless this . . .” He concentrated for a moment. She stiffened, her eyes startled. “No, that doesn’t seem to be right, either.”
“Most definitely is not right,” she said, and reached between them to position him. “Go!”
He went. Straight to heaven, is what he would have told her had it been in his power to speak at that moment of absolute bliss. Her muscles rippled around him, gripping him in a way that he had never imagined possible, and frankly didn’t know if he would survive. Slowly he sank into her, her breath caught in his mouth as he kissed her, the sensation of both just about spelling an end to him.
But when she started to move on him, her legs flexing as she found a rhythm that left him feeling as if he was made up of flowing lava in the form of a man, he knew that he hadn’t long to last.
“Gwen. My darling. My sweet. My heaven and earth and stars. If you move like that again—no, the other way—yes, that—I’m afraid that I will be doomed to disappoint you.”
Her heels dug into his buttocks as she stiffened against him, her nails scratching his back at the same time she yelled into his mouth.
That was all he needed. Her climax caused her muscles to grip him with the force of a velvety hot vise, sending him well past what any mere mortal could endure.
“It is a good thing,” he panted some minutes later, when they lay damp and exhausted on the bedrolls, a light linen sheet covering them from view of passing sheep, deer, and the odd occasional rabbit, “that I’m not mortal, because that would definitely have stopped my heart.”
Gwen lay draped over him, her limbs tangled with his, her wet hair splayed across his neck and chest.
He’d never felt more wonderful in all his sixty-four years.
She lifted her head. “You can talk.”
“Yes. So can you.” He trailed his fingers down the silky softness of her ass. “I love your derriere. Have I mentioned that?”
“Actual words. You can say them.” She squinted at him. “You’re thinking thoughts, aren’t you? Don’t deny it; I can see you are. I can’t do anything more than quiver with little aftershocks of sheer, unadulterated rapture from what was, hands down, the best sex that has ever been performed in the whole history of mankind, and possibly the universe, and you’re there indulging in brain processes, and talking, and touching my butt just like nothing happened.”
“Oh, something happened, my sweet one,” he said with a leer.
“Gah!” she said, and slapped his chest before rolling off him, pillowing her head on his arm in a manner that he knew would leave the latter numb in a few minutes. He didn’t care. A few pins and needles would be worth it.
She stared up at the sky, now dusky with both the oncoming evening and the red haze that grew darker and more intense as they neared the battlefield.
He smiled at her. “It was pretty damned good, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, yes,” she said on a sigh. “There’s only one thing that could make me happier . . .”
He sat up and stared down at where she lay. “Woman,” he said in his sternest voice, “I have pleasured you as I have pleasured no other woman, almost to the point of my demise. You yourself state that you are even now experiencing aftershocks. You do not aftershock if the experience is in any way less than absolute perfection. Therefore, there is nothing that could make you happier, and I will thank you to retract your complaint about my performance!”
“It wasn’t a complaint—” she started to say, but he would brook no objection.
“Slur, then. It was a slur upon my manhood.”
She lifted the sheet and looked under it. “Goddess! I didn’t realize you were that large. Even all tuckered out you’re . . . wow. Gregory, I can say in all honesty that I have no slur to make against your manhood. The only thing that would make me happier is if you’d feed me. I’m exhausted with all the aftershocks, and so hungry I could eat Bottom. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.”
“Please imagine that I am even now making a risqué play on words concerning your bottom,” he said, mollified enough that he offered her a plate of food.
“Done. Oooh, is that a crab quiche?”
“Apparently so. And this appears to be some sort of rolls stuffed with various meats. Grapes?”
They dined happily, although Gwen insisted that they put on clothing just in case someone strolled past them.
“How are you going to steal the things that Aaron wants you to steal?” Gwen asked him some time later as they lay snuggled together, watching the stars overhead emerge from the velvety darkness to twinkle down on them.
Gregory had never been one to see the romance of the night sky—so far as he was concerned, it was simply a moon and light reflected from astral bodies too far away for him to easily understand. And yet at that moment, with Gwen warm in his arms, the softness of her body pressed against his, he could have sworn that the arrangement of stars and moon was created just for them.
“Gregory?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you thinking about sex?”
He blinked at the stars, then looked down at the top of her head where it lay on his chest. One of her hands rested on his breastbone, not stroking him, just lying there. It felt right. “I wasn’t until you asked that, but now I am.”
She laughed, pressing a kiss into his chest. “Then what were you thinking about that was so consuming you couldn’t answer my perfectly reasonable question?”
“I was considering whether or not I should attempt to write a poem to just how beautiful you are lying naked under the stars. Now I shall have to change that to an ode on making love to you.”
“I don’t think my heart could stand it,” she said lightly.
He froze, wondering if she had, unbeknownst to him, abilities to read his thoughts. Did she sense the warm feelings that had been growing with each hour of her acquaintance? He’d been careful to not acknowledge them, even to himself, lest he hurt either or both of them. He hadn’t ever been one to give his heart easily, and he knew with the knowledge born of man that in Gwen he’d found a woman who could destroy him should she so desire.
No, it was far better to keep things unemotional. Lust was fine. Sexual appreciation was appropriate. Desire was welcomed. But anything else . . . no. It was better this way.
She lifted her head and grinned at him, at the same time tweaking his nipple. “You’re not the only one who almost croaked because the sex was so good. So, how are you going to steal the stuff?”
He relaxed. She wasn’t making a declaration of his emotions after all. “I don’t know. I’ve never stolen anything before. I guess I’ll check out the camp and locate the items first, then make a plan.”
“My moms are there. I’ll have a chat with them and see if they can help. I’m sure they would. I think they’ll like you.” He felt inordinately pleased until she added, “They always cotton to the most inappropriate people. I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve had to separate them from bad influences.”
He pinched her ass. “That is no way to talk about a master thief, madam. Go to sleep. You’re going to need your strength.”
She sighed heavily into his chest and snuggled closer. “Yes, I know. I have that stupid armor to wear, and when we get to the camp Doug will probably make me fight right away.”
“I was referring to the method by which I am intending to awake
n you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. He’d never felt so happy in all his life. He had Gwen, and that was all he wanted.
On the heels of that thought came another one, much more disquieting. . . . How on earth was he going to keep her?
TEN
“Who the hell are you?”
“Good gravy, it’s a naked man!”
“Penny, where’s the camera? I must get a picture of him. Here, you take a picture of me standing next to him. It’ll make quite the blog post, won’t it?”
“Hey, little boy. Daddy wants some of that sugar.”
“I don’t know who you people are, or why you’ve intruded upon my privacy, but I do not intend to allow you either to photograph me or to engage in acts of sugar. Go away, all of you, before I take my woman’s sword and—”
“Now then, now then, let’s be ’avin’ none of that.”
It was the voices that woke me, and not, unfortunately, Gregory with amorous thoughts on his mind.
“Dammit, there is a woman there. She’s wadded up in the blankets. Crap.”
I sat up, blinking and shoving my hair out of my eyes with one hand while clutching the sheet to my naked breasts with the other. The sight that met me was less than thrilling.
Gregory was also naked, his hands on his hips as he stood facing a semicircle of four people—two women and two men, one of whom bore a familiar face.
“Hello, Al,” I said, holding the sheet tighter to myself. “Don’t tell me—this is another tour group?”
“Early-mornin’ Ramblers Tour,” he said with a nod and a grin. “For those mortals what like to keep fit and see the sights normal tourists don’t see.”
“Go away,” Gregory repeated. “We are not a sight.”
“I don’t know,” said one of the women, a slight, mousy-looking girl in a dowdy gray skirt and sweater. She held a camera in her hands and snapped a quick shot of him. “You look pretty good to me.”
“Penny!” the woman next to her shrieked and punched her in the arm. She had bright red hair, a sharp little nose, and was dressed all in pink. “I’m the ballsy one! You can’t say things like that—it’s my shtick. You’re the good cop, I’m the bad cop, remember?”
The Art of Stealing Time: A Time Thief Novel Page 17