Two Worlds Collided

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  Okay, so maybe this could still work to his advantage. Her eyes sure said, I'm pissed. He gave her a lazy smile. "You were taking too long, Darlin', so…" He glanced at the dazed blonde and then reached for the dark-haired woman, who hadn't moved away when he'd been concentrating on her friend. He pulled her closer against him. He felt like a book between two soft and cuddly bookends.

  Evie nodded. She didn't scream. Didn't react. Didn't tell him to go to hell, because that is what he would have done. No, the damn woman stood tall. "I can see you're busy." Her voice was smooth as glass. "I'll just head to my room. Goodnight, Bellamy, ladies." She turned on her heels and walked away, as if before she'd gone into the restroom, they hadn't shared a hot kiss, as if he weren't the biggest ass there was for making her think they were going to sleep together, then turned his attention elsewhere.

  Let it go. Let it go. "God dammit." He untangled himself from the women and heard a sigh of disappointment, but he didn't care. He had one goal and it was to reach Evie.

  He skidded to a stop in front of the elevator she'd just entered. Their eyes met for one desperate second before the elevator doors closed, blocking him.

  He pushed the button and kept pushing it until the other elevator's doors opened. He rushed inside and hit the button for the top floor. He looked up at the ceiling as if this would make the elevator move faster. "Come on." He bounced on the balls of his feet. When the doors opened, he sprinted out into the hall to find she'd already reached her room.

  "Wait," he called to her, sounding desperate to his own ears. Probably because he was desperate.

  She glanced at him, hesitated. "I thought we said goodnight." Her clipped tone pretty much told him to take a hike, but he wasn't going anywhere. She pushed her door open and entered, but before the door could completely close behind her, he shoved his boot inside. At the moment, he was glad she'd insisted barefoot was not the up and coming fashion.

  She whirled to face him, her eyes widening in surprise. "I think you need to go," she said more sternly now and with those dark-rimmed glasses, prim and proper hair swept into a bun and those narrowed eyes, he'd bet there weren't many who wouldn't obey. But this was all her fault. She made him laugh. She made him bare his soul. She made him want again. Why did she do that? Why? "What do you think is happening here?" His voice boomed in frustration. "Do you think you can change me? Is that what all this is about? Are you trying to change me?" he repeated.

  She just stood there appearing meek and mild, just like the book marm he imagined her to be. She was pure at heart and she had no business standing in the shadow of his self-destructive nature. Better to scare her off now than to hurt her later. Then why didn't you just let her walk away when you had the chance?

  "Answer me, God dammit!" He pounded his fist against the wall, inches from her head, but she didn't flinch. No, she stood taller, met his gaze head on and made him wonder how in the world he had ever thought she was meek and mild. Those words were the farthest from the truth. She was a warrior concealed beneath her dowdy clothes.

  "I don't want to change you, Bellamy," she said, and her voice soothed and caressed, like a siren's call. "I want to save you if you'll let me."

  His heart stuttered and restarted. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "Oh fuck," he murmured and turned away because those words of hers just about did him in, but then he felt her palm on his forearm, a light touch, a warm touch... a saving touch. He squeezed his eyes shut. If she said his name, if she said one word, it was over for him. Don't speak, don't say a word... he kept repeating the chant to himself. His prayers went unanswered.

  "Bellamy..."

  He cursed under his breath as he turned and drew her near so fast she gasped, but his lips covered hers, and devoured, tasted, explored. Any words she'd been about to say, were swallowed beneath his kiss. God, he wanted this woman more than his next fix, more than singing to a crowd of hungry fans, more than anything in the world. His fingers were curled tightly in her hair as he cupped her face. She didn't push him away. She kissed him back as if she'd been starved for his touch too.

  However, his mind screamed this was wrong, oh so very wrong. He pulled away and stared at her lovely face. Her lips were pink and swollen from his assault, but it was her mismatched hazel eyes that mesmerized him. In her gaze, he felt worthy, but still, he had to hear the words. "Say it now," he warned. "Tell me to leave your room because if you don't, I just might let you save me."

  She stepped closer into his embrace and a flood of emotions hit him all at once – lust, love, and an insatiable need... He kissed her again, slower, savoring each moment as he brought her closer to the bed. He wanted her there, naked. He wanted to kiss every inch of her. He wanted to drive into her, deep, and deeper still.

  At the edge of the bed, he looked at her again. "Last chance," he said. "Because I plan on fucking you all night long."

  "You know, sometimes you talk too much," she told him and she reached for his belt buckle and removed it. Then she took her hand and pushed him onto the bed, where he willingly landed on the firm mattress.

  He stared up at her and loved the gleam in her eyes. "Damn, Book Marm, you have a bit of a wild thing going on, don't you?"

  She moved over him as she crawled onto the bed, her firm thighs, her slim waist, and her perky breasts melted against him. If she didn't know how much he wanted her before, she knew now. Their mouths were inches apart, teasing him as she escaped his attempt to capture those lips.

  "Evie," she said. "Say my name, Bellamy. Not Book Marm or Miss Book Marm. Not Darlin'. Evie."

  His hand brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. The name Evie was for a little girl. She was no little girl. She was a woman, fierce and lovely, and she scared the living hell out of him, knowing how much she pulled at his heartstrings. "Emerson Violet Reid, I want you." His voice was raw with emotion. He was laying it on the line, baring his soul in a way he never had before.

  Her lips curved and he knew then there was nothing more powerful than voicing a person's name. He felt the pull again, felt his heart accepting what she offered. She'd given him permission when he thought to deny it himself. "Oh, Emerson," he said, and kissed her and took her with him as he rolled over, positioning her beneath him. He traced the shape of her mouth with his tongue before stealing another kiss, and then another. This shapely, smart woman rocked him in a way he would have never believed. She moaned into his mouth with the sweet urgency of her kiss. He wanted more too, but he was taking this slow. He was savoring every second in case she came to her senses in the morning and told him to go to hell. He'd gladly go too if she allowed him this slice of heaven tonight.

  The taste of her mouth was silky and warm and he didn't want to break the contact, but the urgent sound of her moan whispered through him with need and hunger. He kissed her neck and she lifted her chin to allow him access. He wanted to feel more of her, but she had too many clothes on. He fiddled with the buttons of her blouse. His hands were shaking. Shaking dammit, but he couldn't help it when he wanted her so badly, needed her so much it was like a flame consuming him.

  "Allow me," she said and kissed him and he moved away as she unbuttoned her blouse, one button at a time, slow and deliberate until she shimmied out of it, leaving her bra the only thing in the way of those large mounds.

  This he could handle, and reached behind her and snapped the bra free. She seemed surprised at how quickly he recovered his finesse. It wasn't like this was the first time he undressed a woman, but it certainly was the first time he'd wanted everything to be perfect. He helped her out of the white brazier that was anything but sexy, and yet his whole body hummed with desire. His hands closed over her breasts as his gaze feasted on their beauty – full, firm and his, at least for tonight. He lowered his head and took one firm nipple into his mouth and her small gasps of delight spurred him on. He paid as much attention to the other side as well. His fingers undid her pants and he slid his hand beneath her panties in search of her he
at. She arched toward him and his fingers toyed, made her squirm. He wanted to tease her, get her so hot she'd beg for more, but every little sound she made, every touch of her hands as they explored beneath his shirt, sent him a notch closer to losing control.

  "Take your clothes off," she demanded and met his eyes.

  Her glasses were still on and he removed them. Her unique eyes were framed with dark lashes. Her nose was petite and there were light freckles splashed across the bridge. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses. He caressed her cheek as she lay in his arms. Her breathing was a little fast, but so was his. She demanded he remove his clothes and he was ready to obey. Anything she wanted. He slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground, next his pants and boxers. She wasn't shy as she took him in all at once and didn't that just make him harder. Then he made fast work of pulling her pants and panties off of her. Fair was fair.

  "Damn, you're so beautiful," he told her. All of her naked except for a necklace, a round silver disc etched with an angel or something. That one item next to all her glorious nakedness did him in. His sex throbbed like a toothache, but he wanted to pleasure her first before he found his own. He lay beside her and started at her lips, her neck, her breasts and continued to work his way down as he inhaled the scent of her. He couldn't taste or smell anything else in the world, but for some reason he could taste and smell her, and he wanted to drown in her sweet scent.

  He worked his way south, caressing, suckling, kissing. He spread her legs and kissed the heated flesh as he teased her, bringing her close to the edge and then backing off, again and again, he brought her close to the brink. She was hot and wet for him, so very wet. Oh God, he wanted her. How he wanted her, but first he needed to do this right. He needed protection. Nothing ruined great sex more than the thought of a possible pregnancy looming in the future.

  He scrambled to the side of the bed and found his pants. Reaching into the pocket, he pulled out his wallet and found what he was looking for. He glanced her way, saw her watching him intently and felt a tinge of guilt. Would she think less of him that he came prepared? He always kept rubbers on him. He was on the road so much and he never knew who would come back with him to his hotel room. He closed his eyes and cursed. Then he felt her hand on his, drawing him toward her again, bringing him back into her fold, as if he could do no wrong in her eyes. No, that wasn't exactly right. She knew he wasn't perfect, knew he was damaged, and yet she accepted him, encouraged him, and made him feel whole in her arms.

  She opened the packet and he took it from there. He was on top of her again and she took his rock hard steel and led him to her. He tilted her hips and entered her silky warmth on a groan of pleasure. She was so tight, so perfect. Her legs encircled him and drew him deeper as her heels dug into his back.

  "Jesus, you feel so good." His voice was raw with emotion. His body ached with the need of release, for the ease he knew he'd find with her, but he moved inside of her, slowly, taking her higher and ever higher. "Come for me," he whispered as he kissed her jaw, her lips. She tensed and gripped his arms and rocked with him. He kissed her again and she whimpered into his mouth. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

  "Now," she said a little desperately.

  "Now what?" he said and continued his torturous slow moves. "Tell me. Say it. I need you to say it."

  "Fuck me, fuck me hard. Now!"

  He moved faster then, giving her what she wanted as her body gave into his demands to possess her fully. She strained against him, clung to him, cried out, and he knew he'd taken her over the cliff of desire, as he felt the first tremors begin inside of him. She held him closer, holding him, encouraging him to find release too, and he did. In her arms, he did.

  Feeling more contented than he ever had, he pulled her toward him as they fought to catch their breaths. He'd forgotten passion could feel like this. He'd forgotten how caring for someone could make the sex that much better. He frowned at where his thoughts had gone. He cared about her. In a week's time that he'd known her, he felt closer to her than he had with any other woman in a long time. She shifted in his arms to look at him. A small satisfied grin graced her lips. He was sure he wore one himself, and if not, he damn well should be. He leaned down and kissed her, eager to feel her tongue stroking his. This woman was sexy as hell and he was already hard with the want to taste her again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Biting Bullets

  Evie awoke to find her bed empty beside her. Bellamy had left sometime in the night, or rather early this morning. She sat up in bed and pulled the sheets around her. She was still naked, her body feeling the effects of last night's lovemaking. He said he'd fuck her all night, and he did – slow and unhurried, faster and hotter, on the bed, on the floor, in the hot tub. God, she never knew how erotic lovemaking in water could be.

  She ran a hand through her hair and made a face. She must look like a sight. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only seven, but it felt much later. She threw her legs over the side of the bed. She had to dress and go downstairs. What would it be like to see Bellamy after the night they'd shared? She'd seen all of him, every glorious naked part of him, and he'd seen her. Did he regret it?

  Another thought crossed her mind then too. She slept with Bellamy Lovel and this was not something that happened the first time around. She had not been one of Bellamy's... What exactly was she to him? A lover? A one-night fling? Had she broken one of the cardinal rules of time travel? Maybe not since she hadn't been catapulted back to her time, but still it worried her.

  She met her image in the mirror and grimaced. Her frizzy strands framed her face like electricity had buzzed it to life. She pulled her hair back and reached for a ponytail holder on the dresser. She glanced in the mirror again more closely. Did she look any different? Would people know she'd had the best sex ever? She hoped it wouldn't be as obvious to anyone else but her. Only one-way to find out at least some of the answers to her questions; she'd have to go downstairs and face everyone, and hopefully find Bellamy there too. She'd take it from there.

  Once showered and dressed, she took the elevator to the lobby. She knew the band and the other members would be in the private dining area, where a continental breakfast would be served. She needed coffee at the very least. Her stomach was a jumbled mess, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to eat anything.

  She worried Bellamy would treat her differently and not seeing him this morning made her nervous, more so with every step she took toward the dining room. She wore her typical attire of dark colored slacks, blue silk blouse, and low-heeled pumps to finish off the outfit. Nothing flashy or sexy, but she felt different. She felt beautiful. "Please, don't take that away," she murmured beneath her breath.

  "Emerson." She heard Bellamy call her name from somewhere behind her.

  She turned to see him standing by the elevator. He appeared unsure. Unsure of what? Of her? She frowned but didn't move as he came to her.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Kissed her like he meant it. Then he let her breathe. "I thought… I thought you were gone. I mean you weren't there… I have your key," he rambled on. She hadn't realized it wasn't in her purse, but why would she?

  "You came back to the room?" she asked, still bewildered.

  "I brought you breakfast. I'm sorry it took so long, but the guys held me back. Never seen them so chatty."

  It took her a moment but then she realized what he was saying. They must have missed each other in the elevators. He had brought her breakfast. She couldn't help it. Her lips curved into a smile. "Aren't you the romantic? I wish I'd stayed put."

  He drew her into his arms again. "Me, too. I had plans for us." And he kissed her again and she felt the heat shoot from her belly to lower, much, much lower. She could well imagine his plans and she could kick herself for ever leaving the bed.

  "What the hell is this?"

  They tore apart as if they'd been cattle prodded. Bryce stood there with a cup of coffee in one
hand and a donut in the other. His eyes were burning with fury as he narrowed them on Bellamy.

  "Good morning," Bellamy said and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His curls were arranged perfectly, as if they would dare do anything else. His lazy smile was all kinds of sexy, but she had a hunch it didn't have the same effect on her brother.

  "What is going on here?" her brother asked.

  "Bryce," she said and hoped to keep him calm because she could sense he was about to lose it.

  "Stay out of this," he told her.

  She harrumphed. "Stay out of it? Oh, I think I'm in it."

  He leveled his gaze at her and pointed the donut in her face since he obviously had no place to put it down. "You shouldn't be. And you," he pointed the donut at Bellamy next. "You should be ashamed of yourself. She's my sister, God dammit."

  "Stop it, Bryce," she hissed. "You're making a scene." Already the other band members were noticing something was going on and had stepped outside the dining room.