World Enough and Time

by Lauren Gallagher

  The latter won. “Back up,” I murmured, pushing his shoulders gently.

  He gave me a puzzled look, but didn’t protest. He eased my leg down until my foot touched the floor, then he stepped back as I’d asked. As soon as he did, I went to my knees.

  “Oh, fuck,” he breathed before my lips had even touched him. When they did, a tremor nearly knocked him off balance. A shift of his weight and a hollow thump told me his hand had hit the wall, no doubt bracing himself in case his trembling knees decided to buckle. His other hand grasped my hair, loosening and tightening each time I ran my tongue around the head of his cock. My mouth followed my hand almost to the base, then back up, then down again, taking as much of him as I could. Every time I nearly deep-throated him, my pussy responded as if he was against my G-spot instead of my tongue. He moaned softly and his cock twitched, but at this rate, I wasn’t sure who would come first.

  “Oh, God, baby, I don’t want to come yet.” His voice shook as badly as his hand. “Not yet, don’t—” He gasped. Then his fingers tightened in my hair and he drew his hips back, pulling out of my reach. When I stood, he kissed me so desperately it was almost painful. We stumbled again, and this time it was his back against the wall, the impact knocking a grunt out of him but not breaking our breathless kiss.

  Though God only knew who was leading now, we were moving toward the bedroom. My shoulder brushed the doorframe; I was vaguely aware of something like pain, but more than anything, it offered relief. We’d crossed the threshold. We were in the bedroom. We were almost where we wanted to be.

  Separating for only a few seconds, we both kicked off the rest of our clothes. Connor pushed me up against the bed, kissing me as his hand parted my legs. We both gasped when his fingertips found my clit. In spite of the way his hand trembled, his fingers drew slow, controlled arcs around my clit until I could no longer concentrate on kissing him.

  “Oh, my God,” I moaned, my lips brushing his. “I want…” But he made speech impossible.

  “I know what you want.” His stubble grazed my chin when he spoke. “I want it too. And we will.”

  Though the “but not yet” wasn’t spoken, it was there. It was there in the playful lilt in his voice, in the way he kept teasing my pussy with his fingers, and in the frustrated breath he released when I dug my nails into his shoulders. We both wanted it, but I knew he was doing the same thing I’d done in the hallway.

  He kissed me again and leaned into me, silently asking me to lie back. I released his shoulders and handed myself over to gravity, sinking down onto the bed even though it meant breaking away from his kiss. He held himself up on one arm, the other hand still mercilessly taunting my pussy, and his tongue circled my nipple the same way his fingers did my clit.

  Whispering against my skin, he said, “I want to be inside you so bad, just thinking about it is going to make me come.”

  I could only whimper, losing my mind to anticipation because he was finally going to do what we both wanted.

  But he didn’t. He knelt beside the bed and held my hips in both hands. The second his tongue met my pussy, my back arched and I sucked in a breath. Like he’d never tasted me before, he explored my pussy with his tongue, teasing me relentlessly until at last his lips closed around my clit.

  “Oh, God, Connor,” I moaned as his tongue drew slow circles around my clit. “Oh, God…”

  One hand left my hip and I released another whimper with anticipation, this time knowing exactly what he was going to do next. One finger, then two, slipped inside me, and I could barely breathe. I combed my fingers through his hair while my other hand grasped the edge of the bed. My mouth nearly formed the words to beg him to fuck me, but his tongue changed direction and, with a single gentle sweep across my clit, rendered me mute.

  His tongue made slow, easy circles. His fingers found and gently stroked my G-spot. There was desperation in every hot, uneven breath he released, but everything he did was made of restraint and control.

  And with everything he did, I lost my grasp on anything resembling control. I moaned, trying to say his name, but words were out of the question. My voice must have told him all he needed to know, though, because he knew just how much more pressure to apply right then, and my vision went white.

  When the shaking and shuddering tapered, I was aware of the echo of his name in the air, of my voice calling out to him even though I couldn’t remember saying it. I did, however, hear myself whispering, “Fuck me, please, fuck me…”

  Connor’s lips released my clit and he stood. He grabbed my hips and thrust into me, both of us moaning when he was finally, finally, finally inside me. The aftershocks of my orgasm intensified with every rapid, violent stroke he took, and in seconds he drove me to another climax.

  When my vision cleared, I reached for him and he came down to me, kissing me with the sweetness of my pussy on his tongue. I held his face in both hands, as much to keep him near me as to feel every last nuance of his kiss: the slow movements of his jaw, the subtle abrasiveness of his five o’clock shadow, the softness of his hair between my fingers. More than that, just the knowledge that he was the one kissing me.

  The world seemed to slow down, my mind perceiving our desperate, rapid movements as languid and deliberate. If only for a moment, time wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t trying to leave us behind. Every thrust happened so slowly, my senses had time to register every place we made contact. Whenever he withdrew, I had time to be aware of the absence of his touch before he was inside me again. Every pulse of electricity had time to radiate from my G-spot and fade completely before the next one reignited every last darkened ember.

  Then Connor exhaled, releasing a shuddering breath across my cheek, and I realized it wasn’t my perception at all. Our bodies really had slowed. My hips rolled in time with his long, deep strokes, every one of which lasted a delicious eternity.

  He broke the kiss with a shiver, and our eyes met. His lips parted and his breath came in short, shallow gasps as strokes once again became thrusts. Faster, faster, his brow furrowing and the cords standing out on his neck, faster, still faster. Then, his eyes closed and with a breathless moan that aspired to be a roar, he came.

  Releasing his breath in one long sigh, he collapsed over me and rested his forehead against my collarbone. I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, savoring every breath he released against me.

  Satisfaction washed over me, relief that the hunger was quieted for the moment, but something else took its place. A heaviness in my chest, the dull ache of sad resignation. The acceptance that we weren’t just winding down from hot, passionate sex, we were winding down.

  Like a countdown marking the remaining seconds, we’d ticked away another moment together. How many remained, I couldn’t say, but there were few, and now one less. Each time we made love was one step closer to the last.

  Connor raised his head and kissed me lightly. Touching my face, he looked at me with unreadable eyes, and I wondered if his mind was in the same place. He didn’t say. I didn’t ask.

  Eventually, we moved all the way onto the bed and I rested my head on his shoulder. We still didn’t speak, just held each other. He absently played with my hair and I trailed my fingertips across his chest.

  In the kitchen, we’d started out needing each other right now. We simply couldn’t wait. How we’d made it into the bedroom was beyond me, but here we were. That moment had cooled and our hunger was satisfied, but the need remained. I needed him. Now. Tonight. Tomorrow.

  Pulling me a little closer, Connor sighed. I thought about asking if he was thinking about the same thing I was, but I was afraid to. If I did, I was afraid he’d bring up the idea of moving me to San Francisco with him. The more he mentioned it, the less I could resist. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to be with him, we both knew it was a bad idea. His ex. My ex. Everything that kept me here and took him there.

  I couldn’t go, he had to, and that time was coming far too quickly. All over this apartment, half-packed
boxes stood ready to be filled and sealed shut. Ready to carry all the pieces of his life to California.

  But not everything he was taking with him could be packed in newspaper and bubble wrap.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The next morning, I was on auto-pilot at work. It wasn’t fatigue this time. Though Connor and I had been up well into the early hours of dawn, I wasn’t all that tired.

  Maybe I was tired. I couldn’t tell because I was completely numb.

  I finished riding Hawkeye, put him away, then stood in the aisle, staring at the list of horses that needed to be ridden. Jekyll. Xena. Orion. SoCo. I rubbed my eyes, just trying to figure out where to start.

  “Morning, Dani.” Gavin’s voice nearly made me groan.

  I looked at him and muttered, “Morning.”

  “Are you working Jekyll this morning?” He sounded reasonably pleasant, but I was careful, trying to gauge his mood and figure out which Gavin I was dealing with.

  “I, um, probably,” I said. “I was going to ride SoCo first. Hadn’t planned beyond that.”

  “Oh, okay.” He nodded with what I assumed was approval. So he was in a pleasant mood. I couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse this time. A genuinely pleasant Gavin, I could handle. A volatile mood that might turn on a dime? Not so much. I just couldn’t handle walking on goddamned eggshells today.

  After a few benign comments about an upcoming show, he left. When his footsteps faded into silence, I released my breath and went back to going through the motions of my day.

  SoCo was well-behaved and compliant today. Jekyll was pliable and predictable. I avoided Orion for the time being; he was the type of horse who would pick up on my mood and take advantage of it. I didn’t need him fucking with me until my head was clearer.

  After I put Jekyll away, Gavin appeared again.

  “How was he today?” he asked, petting the gelding’s muzzle.

  “Okay,” I said. “He’s getting better about that left lead, so—”

  “He’s still having problems with it?” Gavin barked. I cringed. From bright and sunny to dark and stormy in a heartbeat.

  I took a deep breath, pushing back the anger that threatened. I don’t need this. I don’t need this. Christ, Gavin, I don’t need this. “He’s getting better,” I said, sounding much calmer than I was. “It’s just going to take time.”

  He huffed. “Danielle, this is getting fucking ridiculous. He’s—” My mind stopped processing the words while he launched into a long, loud tirade. I’d long since learned to tune him out, but today, it didn’t matter what he was yelling at me, only that he was. And with my every last nerve frayed, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Gavin?” I snapped, startling myself as much as I did him.

  His mouth fell open. “What—”

  “What do you want me to do?” I couldn’t hold back now, not with everything I already had on my mind, not after months of putting up with his crap. “Do you want me to give the horses lectures about how they’re supposed to behave according to your standards? I’m a fucking trainer, Gavin, not a goddamned miracle worker.”

  He set his jaw and folded his arms across his chest. “Yes, I do believe I pay you as a trainer. So I expect to see some training going on, and—”

  “They’re animals, for God’s sake. There’s only so much I can ask of them.” I gestured at Jekyll. “He’s come a long way, but he’s not perfect.”

  “I don’t expect perfection—”

  “Yes, you do, Gavin,” I snarled. “No matter how much progress I make with any of them, it’s never enough.”

  “Then maybe we need to look at how much progress you’re making, because I can’t say I’m too impressed about—”

  “If you want them trained, then back the fuck off and let Susan and me do our goddamned jobs.” I was shaking now. I was certain I was unemployed, too, but I couldn’t stop. “I bust my ass for you and Leslie. So does Susan. We work our goddamned fingers to the bone, try to pull miracles out of our asses, and don’t say a word. And it. Is. Never. Enough.”

  Gavin stared at me, slack-jawed.

  I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as months’ worth of tension in my shoulders eased. In a calmer voice, I said, “I’m just trying to do my job, Gavin. But I’m only human. They’re only horses. We all have our limits.”

  “So I’m noticing,” he growled. “Maybe you—”

  “Does it ever occur to you that maybe you’re part of the problem?”

  “What? What are you—”

  “I had Xena performing almost perfectly until you started riding her and jerking on her mouth when she dared disobey. Now I’m lucky to get her over three jumps before she freaks the fuck out.” Adrenaline flooded my veins and my voice rose with every word, drowning out the inner voice that tried to warn me against talking to my boss like this. “We can’t get Dante anywhere near a trailer without a whole debacle of coaxing and trauma, and the only one who’s ever scared him in or around a trailer is you. He—”

  “Danielle, that’s enough. You—”

  “Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who flipped out and scared him so badly you almost got me killed?”

  His mouth snapped shut. So did mine. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, while my words echoed through the rafters. Blood pounded in my ears, and I waited for the backlash of my outburst.

  Then he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. I expected him to scream at me, to tell me just how many ways I was fired and could get the hell off his property, but the voice that came was low and even. “You’re the trainer. You tell me what needs to be done. With Dante, Xena, him.” He gestured at Jekyll with his elbow.

  I blinked. “What?”

  He let out a long breath. “I hired you and Susan because you can do the things I can’t. If this is, if I’m keeping you from doing your job, then…” He put his hands up. “You tell me. What needs to change?”

  Disbelief kept me from speaking for a moment. Then I cleared my throat and shifted my weight. “Just, you know, just trust us to do our jobs. We know the horses, we’re doing the best we can. We’re only human, they’re only animals. Cut us some slack.”

  Wetting his lips, he nodded slowly. Without another word, he walked away, leaving me in uneasy silence. Had I finally gotten through to him? Maybe he’d left to go stew about it for a while. Then he’d be back to give me a piece of his mind, along with my walking papers.

  Or maybe, just maybe, I’d gotten through to him. Now I could do my job without walking on eggshells. Finally, a glimmer of hope.

  Even that glimmer of hope wasn’t enough to pierce the heavy blanket of numbness, though. On any other day, I’d have been grinning to myself, quietly gloating in spite of my nervousness about whatever backlash was still to come. Not today. The storm was over now, the thunder quieted, and instead of enjoying the peaceful sunshine that followed, I was just as cold as I was before Gavin had wandered into the barn in a volatile mood.

  Trying in vain to shake it off and focus on my job—while I still had it—I went to Jester’s stall and picked up his halter. A trail ride. That was what I needed. Just one of the horses and me, somewhere other than here.

  I opened his door, stepped inside, and stopped. Just…stopped. For a moment, I stared at my horse, holding his halter in hands that couldn’t quite remember what to do with it.

  I tried to blame the tightening knot in my stomach on the waning adrenaline from my confrontation with Gavin, but I knew full well it had nothing to do with him. The adrenaline had dropped before he’d even disappeared out of the barn. The whole situation barely registered on my radar now, because my mind had found its way back to last night.

  I sniffed back tears and swallowed hard. This would be over soon. Less than two weeks, then I could find some way to pick up the pieces and move on.

  Jester nudged me with his nose, and I half-heartedly tousled his forelock. That wasn’t w
hat he wanted, apparently, so he lowered his head and pushed against me. Not enough to knock me off balance, just enough to get my attention. I scratched the side of his neck and he raised his head enough to look at me. Anyone else might have thought I was crazy, but I was sure there was concern in those big eyes and the way his ears pricked forward.

  Sometimes I swore my horses could see right through me. I could hide it from the rest of the world, but they knew. Just another reason I couldn’t let them go. They knew me better than almost anything that walked on two legs.

  Jester nuzzled me again, the closest a horse could get to “what’s wrong?”. I slung his halter over my shoulder, put my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his mane.

  He rested his head on my back and let me cry.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Connor and I finally made it to that steak restaurant on the waterfront.

  It was, as he had said, fantastic. It had five-star restaurant ambiance with the kind of spectacular, perfectly cooked steaks I usually found in those roadhouse-style places with peanut shells on the floor.

  We sat by the window with an incredible view of the sun sinking behind the Olympic Mountains beyond Puget Sound. This was the perfect place for a romantic dinner.

  The perfect place for us to eat together when we’d first started seeing each other, not now. Not when we were getting close to the end credits, just waiting for one or the other to finally say “this is it.”

  All through dinner, that heavy cloud hung over my head, dulling all my senses. I was distantly aware of how good the food was. Vaguely picked up on the dimly-lit, intimate atmosphere. Even the sunset was muted, as if viewed through dingy, tinted glass.

  The only thing that came through with crystal clarity was what hadn’t been said. A decision had been made, and it was just a matter of one of us saying it was time to implement it. The opportunity presented itself a few times—a pause, a comment about his upcoming move, a suggestion of “next time” —but each such opportunity passed unclaimed.