Crossing In Time: The 1st Disaster (Between Two Evils Series)

by Orton, D. L.

  She drags her tongue leisurely down my chest, eventually settling with her shoulders between my thighs. I stuff a frog-shaped pillow behind my head and then stroke her face and hair with the other hand, captivated by the sight of her kissing me.

  She slips the head of my penis into her mouth and runs her tongue around the line of my foreskin. I let out a soft moan as my cock swells beneath her wet caress.

  Moving a little at a time, she slides her lips down the shaft until the crown bumps against the back of her throat, and then she reverses the action, pressing her tongue and hand against my cock as she draws her mouth up.

  “Mierda, that feels good.”

  She moves her hand to the base of my erection, and then repeats the motion, slowly accelerating.

  Almost immediately, I reach down and grab her head, forcing her to stop. “Easy there, mi amor.” There’s a smile in my voice. “Or you’ll make me come.” I fight down the desire to ejaculate. “And did I mention how absolutely magnificent that feels?”

  She laughs and plants wet kisses around the crown of my very hard cock—which pushes me right to the edge again. I grab onto her shoulders and pull her up onto my chest, ignoring her protests. I cradle her head in my hands and kiss her with a passion—a need—that I have not felt before.

  When I release her, she places my swollen cock between her thighs, the anticipation of being inside her almost palpable.

  “You still okay with this?” Her voice is guarded.

  “No.”

  She stares at my mouth. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” I pick up her hand and kiss it. “Actually, I’m way past being okay with having sex. In fact, I’m rapidly approaching being unable to think about anything else. But not tonight. I want another chance to make you come first.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Tego. Really.”

  I slide my fingers into her hair and let my gaze wander around her face. “I’ve been enjoying my pleasure all night, Iz. And if I have to enjoy any more pleasure, I might die of exhaustion, despite what Gus thinks.” I bump my hips against her.

  She smacks me on the chest. “Don’t make me tie you up, Nadales.”

  I give her a stunned look. “Were you planning to?”

  She repositions her thigh with the tip of my penis pressing against her wetness. “Say yes.”

  “I’m already way too excited, Isabel, and being inside you is going to make me come in ten seconds.”

  “Is that a yes?” She pushes against the tip of my very hard cock.

  “Make that five seconds, possibly less.”

  “Hah. Then you better make it good.”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Yes, I want to have sex with you.”

  She sits up and settles onto my erection.

  I let out a gasp and grab onto her hips. “But what about all that stuff you told me—”

  She places a finger over my lips. “Shh. Let me give you this one gift. Please.”

  I close my eyes, dangerously close to the edge, and try to focus on the most physically demanding work I can think of: chopping wood.

  Ay, I’m going to get a hard-on every time I see a dead tree.

  She bends over and takes one of my nipples in her mouth, and then begins moving her hips against mine.

  “Mierda.” I force her to hold still. “That’s cheating and you know it.” I pull her hips forward. “What about contraception?”

  She laughs. “That would be a hoot.”

  “Not so much.”

  She glances up at the ceiling and waves. “What would the Peeping Tom guys think if I got pregnant?”

  “Given all the things we talked about this afternoon, you have me a bit confused.”

  “Well you shouldn’t be.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t think there’s a snowflake’s chance in hell you could get me pregnant, and a day from now the point will be moot.”

  “Isabel, women say stuff like that all the time. And then turn up pregnant.”

  “How would you know?”

  I laugh. “With you it would probably be twins.”

  She freezes, her eyes dark and far away.

  “Hey. Protection should be worn on every conceivable occasion.”

  “Yes, but this is not a conceivable occasion.” She rolls away from me and then pulls me over on top. “I don’t want anything between us. Just this once. It’s important to me.”

  “Mierda, Isabel.”

  She shuts her eyes. “There are condoms in the drawer of the nightstand. You can get one if you want.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to decide what to do.

  She exhales and then opens her eyes. “Trust me, okay?”

  Chapter 46

  Isabel: One Last Time

  He gazes down at my face for a moment, and then slips inside me.

  My breath catches in my throat. “Oh god that feels good.” I slide my hands down his back and pull him deeper, but he resists, so I grab onto his shoulders and try to move against him.

  “Uh uh.” He pins my hips, refusing to cooperate.

  I smack him hard on the butt. “Damn you. Stop teasing me.”

  “I am not moving until you explain the ‘point will be moot’ part.”

  I grab his shoulders and try to push him over so I can get on top.

  “I’m serious, Isabel. I’m not letting you up until you tell me everything.”

  I flop back into the pillows. “I did already. There’s nothing more to tell you, Tego.” I try to keep my voice level. “I wish it were otherwise. You can’t know how much I wish it were otherwise.”

  He starts to slide out of me, and when I resist, he rolls onto his side, taking me with him, our legs entangled.

  He props up his head and places his other hand on my hip. “Are you dying?”

  I close my eyes and move my lips across his chest. “Yes.”

  He takes hold of my head and waits for me to look at him. “And you only have a few days to live?”

  I glance from his mouth to his eyes. “Yes. Possibly less.”

  “How can that be?” His voice is full of disbelief. “You seem fine—well, mostly fine. Maybe a little weak now and then, but, mierda, Isabel, how could you be dying?”

  “It’s part of the bargain I made with the devil—the devil of black holes and quantum physics. He owns me, and he will be taking me back very soon.”

  The look on his face is dark and tormented.

  I let my gaze run over his shoulders and face, taking in as much of him as I can. “It doesn’t change anything, Nadales. If I had a whole lifetime ahead of me, I would have done things exactly the same—only you can be damn sure I wouldn’t be telling you about some other woman.” I move a lock of hair away from his eyes. “I know you’re finding all of this difficult to believe. I’m finding it difficult to believe, and I’m the one who got squeezed through a black hole.”

  He rolls onto his back, pulling me over on top of him. I rest against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, taking in his scent, and trying to make up for a lifetime without him.

  “I’m in love with you, Iz. You can’t die on me.”

  “Sorry, gorgeous, it’s my turn.”

  He takes my head in his hands and stares at me. “You can’t mean that.”

  I slide my fingers along the line of his jaw. “And you will love her just as much. Perhaps more.” I tell him that, knowing it’s true, breaking my heart.

  He moves his thumb across my lips. “You’re wrong.”

  I look into his dark eyes. “I don’t know where the physics gods are taking me, but you will always be in my heart. Always.” I kiss him, and he responds with his whole body, focusing the entire universe, just for a moment, on that one kiss.

  I can feel him ge
tting hard against my thigh, and I slide down, taking him deep inside, and begin moving against him, finding the rhythm. An uncontrollable passion takes hold, sweeping us up into a place where nothing else matters, all time and space disappearing into the perfect fusing of our bodies.

  Minutes turn into hours, and lifetimes into moments. Universes are created and destroyed with nary a pop. What was saved, no longer exists. What was lost, no longer matters.

  Chapter 47

  Isabel: Left for Dead

  I startle awake, gasping for breath and my head pounding. The sheets are damp with sweat, and my whole body cries out in agony.

  And I am very, very thirsty.

  I lie there, trying to remember where I am.

  Heavy rain is beating on the roof, and the first hint of dawn is creeping in through the water-streaked windows. It is a terrible and bitterly harsh light.

  Tego.

  He lies next to me, his arm still draped across my thigh, his breathing deep and regular. I reach out to him, but stop short. Even in the dim light, I can see the wrinkled skin on the back of my trembling hand.

  Moving very slowly, I slide out from underneath his arm, and then crawl to the edge of the bed and let my feet drop to the floor. I’m so drained by the effort that I can barely push myself up to a sitting position.

  Come on, Isabel. You can do this.

  I grab onto the headboard, fighting vertigo, and close my eyes, concentrating on my breathing. Every cell in my body is dying, self-destructing, screaming in pain at each tiny movement. But it is nothing—nothing—compared to the torture of my heart breaking.

  I force my eyes open and, clinging to the bed frame, pull myself up. The room starts to spin, and I force down the urge to vomit. My head feels like it’s on fire. I take a deep breath, blood pounding in my ears, and push down the panic.

  I’m dying.

  I shuffle across the tiny room, grabbing on to the chair, and then the table, and then the doorframe of the bathroom, a sick old woman unable to walk without support.

  Tego sighs in his sleep and turns away.

  I stare at him for a moment and then slip on my dress, my muscles screaming in protest at each movement. When I twist my damp, tangled hair back in a knot, my shaking hands come away covered with gray strands.

  Through a deluge of tears, I struggle to write out a note and then place it on the table underneath his wooden box. I sit for more than a minute staring at our seashells on the nightstand, trying to collect the strength to do what I know I must.

  Finally, I stand, forcing myself not to cry out in pain, and totter over to pick up my shell. I place it between my breasts, and gaze, for the very last time, at my lover asleep in my bed.

  Goodbye, Tego. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.

  I shuffle out the door, down the steps, and out into the pouring rain, sobbing uncontrollably in the dull gray pre-dawn light. I have no idea where I’m going, only that I don’t want Tego to wake up next to my cold, aged corpse. Rain beats down on my head and chest, soaking me to the bone. I shudder and force my feet to keep moving.

  Lightning flashes over the ocean, filling the distant sky with ragged shards of light, and that decides it for me: back to the sea. For courage, I bring up the image of Tego asleep in my bed, and then force my legs to carry me down the slope of the sand into watery oblivion.

  But I only manage a couple of steps before I realize that the beach is covered with snakes, hundreds of them slithering down toward the surf. I recoil, and then lose my balance and collapse onto the writhing mass, but the snakes are gone, replaced by rivulets of water.

  What’s happening to me?

  I cannot lift my head, let alone stand, so I curl up there in the damp sand, raindrops striking my neck and back. Tremors wrack my failing body, but I’m too dehydrated to cry anymore. I roll my head to the side and let the cool beads of water run down my cheek and into my mouth.

  I’m so thirsty.

  I smell freshly cut grass and hear the notes of a Bach concerto rise from the waves. Something about that is wrong, but I don’t have the strength to think about it.

  The sun will be rising soon, but it will be too late to save me.

  Nothing can save me this time, not even you, Diego.

  I shut my eyes, feeling the watery snakes slither across my skin, and let the universe fade to black.

  Chapter 48

  Tego: To Hell & Gone

  My sleeping brain grimaces but refuses to respond to an incessant chirping, subconsciously hoping someone else will shut the damn thing off. I wait until I can no longer ignore the sound of innocent rabbits being tortured, and stretching across the bed toward the annoying racket, grope around until I find the bunny-shaped device and maul it into silence.

  I realize where I am—and that I am alone. “Iz?” I wait for a few moments and then call out again, louder, “Isabel?”

  Lying very still, I listen for the sound of the shower, and then for any sound at all. I can hear rain falling outside, but nothing else. Maybe she got up early and went for a swim? I turn over and look at the White Rabbit. It’s almost ten. I have no idea what time we went to sleep, but I can’t believe I’ve been asleep for more than a few hours.

  Where is she? She can’t have gone far.

  I get up, wrap a damp towel around my waist, and peek into the bathroom. Empty. Her bikini is in a pile in the corner, her toothbrush by the sink, but her dress is gone. The kitchen appears unchanged: dishes stacked in the sink, the lone avocado still sitting on the counter next to the fridge.

  I drop the towel and pull on my damp, sandy shorts, and then cross over to the nightstand to get my seashell.

  Mierda, her shell is gone too!

  I walk out onto the covered lanai. It’s raining hard, and the sky is filled with dense, low-lying clouds. The tide is out, and there is nothing on the vast expanse of sodden beach except for an old man walking along the shore under a red and white umbrella.

  Loco.

  I put the shell in my pocket and go back inside.

  Where is she?

  I take another look out the kitchen window at the umbrella man and then pick up the avocado and toss it back and forth between my hands, trying to think where Isabel would have gone.

  To get breakfast? Maybe she left me a note?

  Certain that after everything that passed between us last night, her absence must be temporary, I go over to the table, and sure enough, there’s a note tucked under the Nazareno box I gave her.

  I snatch it up and fall through thin ice.

  Tego, My Love-

  A thousand tears, falling like the rain, can’t wash away the pain of goodbye…

  I know you don’t believe my story, but regrettably, it is true. You will find her, and it will be a challenge to make things work. For both of you. (What a pain in the ass I can be, no?) Find the balance. Be strong and patient. Make the first time count. Trust me, she’s in love with you even if she doesn’t know it yet.

  Thank you for the beautiful gift. Please keep it safe for me. Where I am going, I can take only the sublime memory of lying in your arms, and I live by the thread of hope that by some quirk of space and time, I will do so again.

  The journey is the reward,

  Isabel

  Epilogue

  Don’t Stay Away Too Long

  “Isabel?”

  The voice comes from far away, and it takes all my strength to open my eyes.

  “Oh my god, Isabel!”

  I peer up into the rain. The world is tipped on its side, but I can make out Mary Poppins. She’s hurrying toward me with her red and white umbrella held aloft. The snakes pay her no attention, so neither do I.

  I take a labored breath and let my eyelids slip back down.

  “Oh shit! I should have come sooner.”

  Someone strokes
my back, and I know it must be Mary Poppins, but I’m confused by the obscenity. Mary Poppins would never swear. Perhaps the snakes have scared her? Adam and Jamie say it helps to swear when you’re afraid.

  A cool hand touches my cheek. “Christ, you’re burning up.”

  The snakes are still crawling across my arms and legs, and it makes me shiver. They must be attracted to my body heat. “It’s okay. The snakes aren’t poisonous. They’re just cold.”

  “You’re hallucinating, Iz, but it’s going to be okay. I’ll get you to a doctor.”

  The hands grab hold of my shoulders, and I am grateful for their warmth.

  “Can you stand?”

  Pain shoots through my neck and back, and I cry out. “No. Stop. Please. I have to get to the water. I don’t want Tego to find my body.”

  “Tego?” The voice becomes soothing. “It’s okay, hun, I’ll get you some water. But first I have to lift you up. It’s going to hurt a little, but then it will get better. Okay?”

  I take a labored breath and close my eyes, too tired to fight.

  “Don’t leave me, Isabel!” Strong hands slide beneath me and lift me out of the cold, damp sand. It hurts to move, but I know Mary Poppins is trying to help me, so I don’t cry out. “You have to stay awake, Iz. Please.”

  Raindrops spatter against my face and chest, and I shudder.

  Mary lifts me like a child, holding me against her warm body, and strides through the rain. She smells like sandalwood and fresh soap, and the scent fills me with a strange euphoria. I settle against her muscular chest, listening to her heart pound, and then reach up to touch her damp face.

  She kisses the palm of my hand. “Almost there, hun. Hang on for just a little bit longer.”

  I laugh because her face is so rough. Mary Poppins has beard stubble!

  But before I can think too much about it, there are more startled voices, and the sounds of people running and doors banging. I want to see where we are, but I’m too exhausted to open my eyes, so I rest my head against her shoulder and try not to cry.

  Lights come on and then go off, and I can feel the world shift beneath me. Mary Poppins-with-a-beard must be flying with her umbrella, but I can’t feel any wind.