Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3)

by Jay J. Falconer

  “Look at the place. Nobody’s here.”

  “How can you possibly know that without checking?”

  “Simple logic.”

  “We’re here already. What’s it going to hurt?”

  A flash of memories danced in his mind. He pictured his earlier life with Drew in their humble, scorpion-riddled abode. His heart began to ache, wondering if going inside the apartment was going to make matters better or worse. “My brother and I spent a lot of time in there over the years. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

  Masago put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently. “I know it’s painful, but we need to finish what we started. We came all this way, so let’s go inside. Maybe it won’t be as painful as you think. Maybe there are clues to where you live now. We have to check.”

  Lucas made fists, pressing them down on his bent knees. “Okay. But if we don’t find anything in the first ten minutes, we leave.”

  “Whatever you need, baby,” she said, pulling Lucas in for an unexpected kiss.

  He thought about pulling away, but he couldn’t, not after her tender, quivering lips met his for the first time. She gave him a series of short, tender pecks on the lips before full contact was made, adding more heat and pressure. She moaned as her tongue penetrated his mouth. It found the tip of his, circling and dancing in a playful way. Then, in an instant, she backed off and looked into his eyes, as if she were about to ask him a question.

  “What?” he said. “Was I doing it wrong?”

  “I’m here for you. Every step of the way. You know that, right?”

  He nodded.

  “If terrible things are about to happen like you say they are, then we might never get this chance again,” she said. “I’ve waited all my life and I don’t want to wait another minute.”

  “Okay, but here? Right now? In broad daylight?” he said looking around, trying to get a handle on the moment. “What if someone sees us?”

  She shrugged, grabbing his hands and tugging slightly. “I don’t care about anybody else. Only you.”

  Something took control of his body, making him lean in close to the beautiful creature sitting beside him. Her eyes seemed to grip onto his as their minds became one, latching onto the same carnal thought. He wrapped his arms around her back, closing his eyes and kissing her with the passion of two lifetimes. The fingers on each of his hands spread out, allowing them to embrace the fullness of her soul. He could sense the strength of her sexual conviction invigorating his body. His breathing intensified and so did hers, pushing him further and further into the heat of the moment.

  Her fingers played with the hair on the back of his head, then moved down across his shoulder blades, sending a charge across his body. The narrow line between logic and emotion was now a blur, allowing him to forget his troubles and his location. A flicker of logic crept into his mind, telling him to stop—there was work to be done—but his lust chased the fleeting thought into oblivion. He knew the twisted hands of fate were lurking around the next corner and this moment—this right here and now—might be his last chance to feel the warmth and passion of a beautiful young woman.

  Her hands were trembling as they began to explore his body, squeezing and rubbing as they moved. She brought them around to the front of his pants and found his belt. She pushed the end of the belt back through the buckle and tugged it open, releasing its grip.

  He arched his back, allowing her to pull the leather from the belt loops and toss it to the floor of the truck. Her fingers moved to his zipper, making easy work of the vertical sentry device as she pulled it south to grant herself access.

  She put her hand inside his pants, reaching down to find his throbbing penis, which was trapped beneath the stretchy, gold-laced time-travel garment constricting his body. She broke their kiss but pulled away only an inch, mumbling a soft command into his mouth. “The suit needs to go.”

  “Right!” he said, leaning back on the seat and racing out of his shirt, his shoes, his pants, and then the Smart Skin Suit, tossing all of them into a ball on the floorboard of the truck. He looked at Masago, expecting to see her naked as well, but she hadn’t removed a single item.

  “What about you?” he asked, feeling a penetrating draft from the cool winter air outside working its way into the vehicle like a traveling fog. Her playful gaze, now fixated on his throbbing member, sent a shiver of embarrassment down his spine. He covered his penis with his hands.

  She smiled. “I didn’t want to miss a single moment. Now it’s my turn.” She grabbed the lower edge of her top with both hands, pulling it up and over her head with a steady, even pace. The strands of her hair made a crackling noise when they let go of the material brushing past them.

  Her bra was pink-colored with a fancy border of lace decorating the edges. Her breasts were ample and pushed together, forming a deep recess of cleavage that seemed to go on forever.

  “Like what you see?” she asked.

  He nodded quicker than he’d ever nodded before. His mouth ran dry, making it hard for him to swallow.

  She smiled, putting her fingers on the front clasp. She unhooked it and pulled the bra open to reveal the fullness of her chest. Her areolas were larger than he expected and so were her erect nipples.

  He put his hands out, wanting to caress them, but she stopped his advance. “I’m not finished yet.”

  He yanked his hands back, pressing them into his lap.

  She continued the gradual striptease, peeling off one article of clothing after another, tossing each onto the same pile growing on the floor.

  The clock seemed to tick slower after each item was removed. It became difficult to contain himself. His Christmas present was unwrapping itself, revealing more beauty than he could’ve ever imagined. Every neuron in his brain was on fire, screaming at him to take her right then and there, but he managed to restrain himself and wait as she removed the last piece of clothing.

  She tossed her panties aside then sat back in the seat, resting her back against the driver’s door, keeping her legs pressed together at the thigh. Her eyes never left Lucas’s, seemingly content to watch her own naked reflection in his lustful pupils.

  Lucas surveyed the stunning creature laying before him, taking in the perfection of her femininity. He memorized the subtle contours of her muscular, toned physique. Each curve and slope of her body flowed magically into the next, revealing a captivating work of art. His heart was hammering at the walls of his chest, sending pulsating waves of thumps from his chest to his eardrums.

  She put her arms back, laying them against the glass of the driver’s side window. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened her legs.

  He didn’t hesitate, moving forward to position his trembling body over the top of hers. He lowered himself, aiming his fully erect penis just below the tiny heart-shaped mound of pubic hair. The tip of his penis touched her delicate opening, making his mind run wild with expectation.

  She brought her hands down from the glass and wrapped them around the sides of his waist, pressing slightly against his back.

  “Go slow,” she said in a soft but welcoming voice. “This is my first time.”

  “I will,” he said, not thinking about the significance of her gift. His inner caveman was now in control, pushing decorum and logic aside.

  She let go of his skin, putting her arms down to her side. “I love you, Lucas Ramsay.”

  20

  Randol Larson checked his watch for the third time in the past ten minutes as he entered the science lab. He shortened his stride, shuffling his feet through to the other side of the revolving doors. He let go of the door handle, angling his body forward to avoid getting smacked in the ass. It worked. His eyes found the security station twenty feet ahead, where Bruno Benner was standing behind the counter, watching his four-man team process a college-age couple through the full body scanner and metal detector.

  Around the lobby, there were a half-dozen nonsecurity personnel milling about, but nobody was st
anding in line to check in at the security desk.

  Larson increased his pace, wanting to be first. They’d better let me through, he thought, desperate to meet with Dr. Griffith Davies and have the swatch of material from the insurgent’s gold-laced uniform analyzed.

  The day was winding down, leaving little time to get the results back to his brother-in-law, General Alvarez, and then inspect Ramsay’s antigravity experiment to determine if he could discover some sort of safety violation or other deficiency that would legally allow him to terminate the project. If not, he’d have to fabricate evidence to complete the task, as President Lathrop had blackmailed him to do.

  Bruno met him with a smile from behind the check-in desk. “Welcome back, Counselor.”

  “Are they here?”

  Bruno stroked his neatly trimmed goatee with his fingers. “Yes, sir. Both Dr. Davies and Dr. Ramsay arrived for their shift fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Are you going to let me through this time? Or are we going to have issues, again.”

  “You’ve been cleared for entry.”

  “That’s refreshing news.”

  Bruno held out his hand. “Just need to check your briefcase.”

  “Isn’t that what the scanning equipment is for?”

  “Dr. Kleezebee wants all personal items hand-checked from here on out.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. Your briefcase, please.”

  Larson gave him the case, trying to remember if he’d scrambled the numerical tumblers on the lock. He wasn’t sure.

  Bruno put the satchel on the counter, then fiddled with the central clasp but the case didn’t open. “I need to check inside.”

  Larson shook his head. “I’m not giving you my combination code. I don’t share that with anyone. Not even my lovely wife.”

  Two additional security guards arrived seemingly out of nowhere and stood behind Bruno with their arms folded across their chest.

  Larson had visited the science lab a dozen times before but didn’t recognize either of them. They looked like Russian mountain men: easily six-foot-five-inches tall and well over two hundred pounds each—Olympic wrestler-size. Their dark hair, Hulklike physiques, and prominent facial features looked similar. Perhaps they were brothers. He could feel the intensity of their gaze weighing him down, compressing the layers of his skin and bone together.

  He cleared his throat, wondering if this was a planned maneuver, something put in place for his scheduled arrival. He wouldn’t put it past Kleezebee, not with their long history of heated exchanges in the president’s office.

  “You guys twins?” he asked.

  The men didn’t respond.

  Bruno swung the case around. “I need you to open it.”

  Larson hesitated, considering his options. There weren’t any, not if he wanted to get past the imposing security detail and their bigger-than-life attitudes. He adjusted the tumblers until the numerical code was in the correct sequence: nine-eight-seven-six. A second later, he opened the case, reset the tumblers to hide the code, then spun the case to face Bruno.

  Bruno put his hand inside, but Larson couldn’t see what he was inspecting, not with the lid blocking his view. He studied the guards’ faces, waiting for the overweight man to respond with questions about the contents, primarily the piece of fabric. He didn’t. Instead, Bruno closed the attaché, spun it again, then slid it across the countertop to Larson.

  “You’re all set,” he said with exactness, motioning to one of the towering guards. “Escort him back. Make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

  Larson took the tote by the handle, fixed the tumblers, closed the case, and scrambled the locks again before dragging it off the desk. He made eye contact with the guard who had just walked around from behind the security station and stood next to him—only an inch away. Larson couldn’t help but stare at the man’s sprawling neck tattoo. The colorful artwork looked like a USA flag tearing a hole through his skin from underneath. The letters USMC where stenciled down the middle of the stars and stripes, horizontally, with the phrase BAND OF BROTHERS written above it. He checked the man’s uniform but didn’t see a nametag anywhere. Must be a new member of the team, he decided.

  “Semper fi,” Larson said, hoping to break the ice with the former marine. The man only grunted through the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.

  Larson pulled his shirt sleeve up to reveal his faded Marine Corps insignia. “Force Recon, Camp Pendleton. OO-RAH!”

  “Force Recon is for pussies,” the man replied.

  Larson didn’t expect that response, not from a fellow marine. He swallowed hard, feeling heat rise within his chest. He turned to face the giant.

  Bruno reached across the security desk, putting his arm in between Larson and the guard. “I think it’s best if I escort you back, Counselor.”

  Larson nodded, never taking his eyes off the man. “That’s been the procedure before. No reason to change it up now,” he told Bruno.

  Bruno grabbed Larson’s arm, tugging him toward the security equipment a few yards away.

  Larson emptied his pockets into a plastic bowl, all the while keeping watch on the men around him with his peripheral vision. He stepped onto the scanning platform of the full body scanner and put his arms over his head. His chest was pumping air at a high rate, making it a challenge to hold his position while the scanning arm swung around inside the device, using a steady, right to left motion. The machine beeped a few seconds later, then reset itself to the home position inside the glass-encased scanner bay.

  “You’re clean. Step through,” Bruno said.

  Larson put his arms down and moved off the platform. He stood next to Bruno, looking back at the marine who’d raised his ire. The brute’s facial expression and piercing stare hadn’t changed, either.

  “What’s the story with that guy?” Larsen asked Bruno.

  “I apologize. He’s usually not this cranky.”

  “Cranky? That’s what you call it?”

  “He’s going through a rough patch at home. His wife really did a number on him.”

  “Hey, we all have issues. But that’s still no excuse. Does he know who I am?”

  Bruno nodded. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “I should hope so. Otherwise, things will get much worse at home when he finds himself without a fucking job,” he said, finger-combing a few strands of blond hair over his ear. “Imagine what would happen if he acted like that toward President Lathrop. Heads would roll. Yours included.”

  “Trust me, it won’t happen again. You have my word.”

  “Fair enough,” Larson said, trying to decide if he should ask for the new guard’s name. He’d need it to file a formal complaint. Then he remembered something that had been tucked behind his full-charging ego: he was leaving town for good once he completed his to-do list and collected his bonus payoff from the buyer. There was no point in filing a disciplinary report when he wasn’t going to be around to enjoy its enforcement. He decided to focus his thoughts on Dr. Davies.

  “Did you tell Griffith I was planning to stop by?”

  Bruno stopped walking and turned. “Was I supposed to?”

  “No. Just curious,” Larson said, never breaking stride. “Hopefully, he’ll have time to meet with me on such short notice.”

  Bruno resumed his march down the hall, catching up to Larson with a quick shuffle-step. “If not, I’m sure we can arrange another day and time for you to meet, though he is a very busy man.”

  Larson took that comment as a bit of a slight. “I’m sure he’ll make time for me. He and I go way back. In fact, Dr. Davies owes his entire marriage to me. I introduced them.”

  Bruno didn’t say anything.

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at Dr. Griffith’s lab. Bruno stepped forward and slid his security card through the door’s access scanner and started punching numbers into the keypad. The first two numbers were a seven and a four, but Larson couldn’t see the rest after Bruno slid his
considerable backside in the way.

  “What? Don’t you trust me?”

  Bruno didn’t answer. He continued entering numbers, making the sentry unit beep each time his finger made contact. A few seconds later, a chime sounded, then Bruno pushed the door open and held it ajar. He looked at Larson with tightly focused eyes, but his lips never moved.

  “I was just kidding,” Larson said. “Lighten up.”

  “I’ll return in fifteen minutes, Counselor, then escort you next door. Is that sufficient time?”

  “That’ll do,” Larson said, walking past Bruno and stepping inside the lab. He heard the lab door click shut behind him. He looked around for Dr. Davies but didn’t see him.

  21

  “Davies, are you and your saggy ass in here?” Griffith heard someone yell from across the lab. He flinched, sending the top of his head into the underside of the worktable hovering an inch above his toupee. His skull made a ringing clang sound when it smashed into the metal. A millisecond later, the pain seemed to take on a life of its own, entering his body through the tiny hairs on the back of his neck and traveling down along his aging spine, where it took root in the small of his back and exploded from there.

  Two glass beakers fell from the table and hit the floor next to him, sending a spree of shards across the concrete and a few his way.

  His legs were already tingling from a lack of blood flow while seated in the crouched position, but when his vision filled with stars and the dizziness started, he couldn’t help but think he should’ve scooted the table out of the way to retrieve the marker pen he’d dropped earlier. Only a moron crawls around the floor like a two-year-old. He took a few moments to gather himself before answering his unexpected guest.

  “Hang on a sec. I’ve got to unfold myself from under this station.”

  He flicked two pieces of glass away to the corner, clearing a path to safely. He stood, rubbing the back of his head, checking for blood. There wasn’t any, but a nasty lump was forming and starting to throb.

  He hated the idea of being injured and unable to perform tonight during his scheduled date with Stacy. His wife had been planning the bedroom festivities all week and he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her. He made a mental note to find aspirin and a bucket of ice as soon as he was done with whoever just interrupted his work. He was about to take a condescending tone with the visitor but decided against it when he saw the university’s lead counsel standing just inside the lab door.