In Time to Love

by Gloria Martin

  He stepped me backwards and lay me on the bed sheets, before hovering over me and gazing lovingly into my eyes.

  “You’re beautiful, you know?” he said, causing me the blush. I wasn’t sure that I could ever be considered beautiful, but it was nice to hear all the same.

  Instead of replying, I took the bolt of bravery that was coursing right through me, and I trailed my fingers down his body, taking him in my hand. He’d given me such pleasure last time that I really wanted to be able to do the same for him.

  He gasped in shock, looking at me like I was a real unexpected treat. I ran my hands over him, getting a feel of what he liked, what did it for him, what caused his arms to tremble above me. He stared into my eyes the entire time, showing me an intense hooded look of desire.

  “Oh, that’s amazing,” he panted, a tremble in his tone.

  In the end, he held onto my hand gently and moved it away, kissing me with all the passion of a man that has been brought way too close to the edge. I felt amazing to be able to do that to him to be able to send him so wild. I couldn’t believe that I was having such an effect on such a strong, sexy and powerful man.

  He moved his lips down my body, kissing all the way down my stomach. At first, I wondered where he was going, until his mouth found my center, and he made everything clear. As his mouth claimed me, I gasped out in shock, unable to believe the effect that he was having on me. His tongue was flicking everywhere and I almost didn’t know what to do with myself. He was sending me over the edge, and I needed him now.

  “Stop,” I gasped, gripping onto his shoulders. “I need you.”

  “You don’t need to tell me twice,” he grinned, as he plunged his penis far into me, sending an explosion of sensations flying through my body.

  I cried out in ecstasy, causing him to slap his hand over my mouth.

  “Shh,” he laughed. “We don’t know if we’re alone.” I was pretty sure that we were, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to risk it just in case.

  “Oh fuck,” Ricky cried out, as he rode me. “You feel so amazing.”

  As the orgasm rocked through my body, and I thrashed and buckled beneath him, Ricky kissed me lightly, holding me, supporting me. I felt so good.

  As soon as the bliss had crashed over me, I spun Ricky around until I was on top, wanting to make this as amazing for him as it was for me. As I grinded onto him, enveloping him and showing him my nakedness in it’s entirely, he groaned and lost himself. I held him tight. That moment felt more right than anything else ever had, and I never wanted it to end.

  *****

  Ricky

  As the pleasure erupted from my body, I found myself feeling a rush of love from Talia. I’d never felt so connected to anyone before, I’d never wanted anyone so badly, and I’d never been so keen to keep someone by my side.

  I’d dated Cassie for almost eight months, and at the time it had felt like love. I didn’t like it when we’d been forced to break up because she was going travelling, but now I was glad. What I’d had with her was nice enough, but with Cassie I felt none of the intensity that I had with Talia. There was this connection I had with Talia. She was like my soul mate. I’d always thought I liked racing so much because it made me feel centered and whole. Almost like it was a spiritual thing. Cassie had never made me feel that way, but Talia did, and in a way which made me feel almost dizzy just thinking about it. She made me feel like the best version of myself, and she made me want to be a better person. I no longer wanted to be the slacker who did nothing more than raced on his bike. Where I used to think I couldn’t live without my bike, now it felt like I couldn’t live without Talia.

  As I watched her sleep, I made the decision to myself that we would make this thing work no matter what. Yes there would be complications, but we would have to get through that. I needed to be with Talia, and not just in a sexual way, I needed to be with her properly. I really liked her. I loved her.

  I felt my skin buzz and my heart race just to think those words. Was I rushing? Probably, but... no, fuck it, I loved her!

  I eventually forced myself to tear away from Talia to sneak back into my own bedroom, to ensure that we didn’t get caught. We would deal with this in our own time, when we were ready.

  But as I slid out of the door, and clicked it shut behind me, I found myself faced with a very stern, confused-looking Norm.

  “What are you doing?” he gasped, observing my state of undress. I hadn’t thought to get myself fully dressed because I never normally slept in my clothes. “What the hell is going on here?”

  I could see his brain trying to add together two and two, and not wanting to see the answer, while I stood there silently like an idiot. I just didn’t know what to do. I assumed that the best thing that I could do was to deny it, but that felt impossible given how he’d found me. Plus, I wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to deny something that we would then have to admit later on. I glanced back towards Talia’s room, but quickly realized that waking her up would be the wrong thing to do here.

  “Are you…?” he started to ask, before changing his mind. “Just… go back to bed. We’ll have a family discussion about this in the morning when your mother is awake.”

  As he stalked away from me, I could see his literally shaking with rage, which made me very anxious about what was to come.

  *****

  Talia

  I was happy when I woke up in the morning, excited to see what was to come, but I could already hear the yelling before I even went down the stairs. I could only pick out a few words, but it was enough to strike a cold terror into my heart. It was enough for me to know that somehow, Ricky and I had been found out.

  It was only when I heard him shouting back, defending himself, that I raced down to join him. I was as much a part of this as he was. It wasn’t fair to leave him to tackle it alone.

  “Wait…” I cried out. “Wait a moment…”

  “I will get to you,” my dad snapped. “Your little tryst has wrecked everything!”

  The shouting went on for ages. We had absolutely everything thrown at us that cried, hard. I’d known the aftermath of sleeping with Ricky wasn’t going to be smooth, but I hadn’t quite expected it to get this bad.

  “Anyway,” Marie finally said, shooting a glance at my dad. “We made a decision last night. Because of this, we are not going to go through with the wedding. We’re going to break up,” I shot her a knowing look, certain that there was much more to their break up than me and Ricky, but she gave me such an evil glare that I kept it to myself. “Ricky, you and I are going to return to our old home, where we lived before here.”

  “In Raymont?” he yelled.

  “Why not?” she insisted. “You’ve finished school now. There’s no reason for us to remain.” I could sense that he wanted to look at me, but neither of us was brave enough to follow through on that desire.

  “…and Talia,” Dad intervened “You need to go back to boarding school today. I can see that you’ve already packed your bags, and I’ve contacted the school. They are willing to accommodate you now.”

  I tried to argue, but he was having none of it. As the rest of the rant continued, I felt my heart fall into my shoes. I’d been so looking forward to the future, not that long ago, now it had been taken away from me. There was no chance for me and Ricky if he was being taken miles away me, and I was being sent back to school.

  We would have to break up. Sure, we could keep trying, keep doing the long distance thing, but if we weren’t together, it would never last. We’d only been together a short while, not long enough to have built any solid foundations, and things would only go from bad to worse with us. It could never end up successful – there was just too much stacked against us.

  My heart shattered into a million pieces, as I realized that I was losing everything.

  *****

  Ricky

  I insisted on dropping Talia off at the train station. Everyone argued against it, but I was going to do it
anyway. Her dad came along too, but he had given us just a short time alone, which I used to kiss her and make all the promises in the world.

  “I’ll wait for you,” I insisted. “We’ll be in touch all the time. I’ll come and see you at weekends…”

  “No,” she shook her head, with tears in her eyes. “We can’t. It won’t work. We always knew that this was a short term thing.” She was saying things to push me away, hoping that I would agree, just to make things easier for us both. She didn’t mean a word of it, I could tell by her expression, but before I could argue anymore, her dad was back by her side, ushering her on the train. “This is goodbye,” she whispered, as if that was the conclusion to it all.

  I waved to her sadly as the train pulled out from the station, knowing that life was never going to be the same for either of us again. But I also knew that I wouldn’t sit back and let her slip through my fingers. As soon as she found out how dedicated I was to her, she would come around too, I just knew it.

  We would make this work. We had to. I was in love with Talia and I couldn’t let her go.

  *****

  Epilogue

  Talia

  One year later…

  The last year had been hard at first, but things were finally settling down now. I felt defeated and destroyed when I had returned to boarding school alone, but Ricky had soon made it clear that he wasn’t letting me go, and his endless pursuit of me had gone on to make me the happiest girl alive.

  He’d moved away from his mom almost right away and rented a small apartment near me, starting up his own business running a bike shop. It had been a struggle for him at first, but now he was very successful, and getting better. His reputation had followed him, and people were keen to buy from the bad ass king of the racetrack Ricky – even if he was nothing like that version of himself anymore.

  I had tried to resist Ricky at first, to do the right thing, but when it became clear that our parents were never getting back together, I gave in and allowed the both of us to be happy. They had both moved on with other people now, and were very contented about it. They were almost pleased for us too – if not a little scared that it might all go wrong. We’d both been given a warning about our relationship, but that didn’t matter to either of us. We had each other, and that was all that mattered.

  We were perfect for one another. We would go the distance, I was confident of that. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

  I was doing well for myself too – about to start a college education, working towards becoming a doctor. Things were looking up, and life was great.

  Most importantly, we had each other, and we had love. It had been complicated, but we got there in the end. Soon I would become his wife, then we would have children. I imagined us with a big brood of smiling kids, in a house with plenty of love.

  The future looked very bright indeed.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 36 of 40

  Blood Moon over the Mississippi

  Dead Bouquets

  Violet Miller arrived in Louisiana on April 3, 1923. The train pulled into New Orleans Union Station, issuing a cloud of steam and soot as it slowed to a stop at the platform, groaning with the weight of ten cars and 800 miles of track behind it. A misty rain was falling, and the warm earth steamed up into the cool afternoon air, blurring the outlines of the city. The station master checked his pocket watch. At 4:00 sharp, the doors of the train were thrown open in unison, and a flurry of activity swarmed over the platform. Red caps and chauffeurs rushed forward to take hold of trunks and hat-boxes. Mothers and nannies grabbed hold of wayward children as they sought to slip away into the fog. Men shouted their greetings to each other. Women kissed each other’s cheeks. The din of many accents filled the air as people from every corner of the country congregated there. The train sighed and settled in place. The fireman wiped sweat and black soot from his weathered brow. Violet Miller stepped onto the platform, and smiled.

  Even in the chaos of the arrival, she turned the head of every man in her vicinity. She stood poised for a moment, looking around interestedly at the goings on. Her dark chestnut bob was nearly hidden by a peacock blue cloche hat pulled down low over her deep azure eyes. She wore a grey dress that dropped just below her knees, blue shoes, and gloves to match her hat. A sable stole was draped casually over her narrow shoulders. She held a small travelling case. She was lithe and tall. The artist Miró had once said to her, over his fifth tumbler of absinthe, that she was the most perfectly proportioned woman alive. Beyond her slender form, it was her bright blue eyes, shining out from beneath thick black lashes that commanded the attention of those around her.

  Her trunk emerged from the train, and immediately a young porter procured it for her.

  “You lead the way,” Violet told him, her voice husky, her words carved out into harsh consonants by her New York accent. “I’m brand new here.” She offered him a smile. He tipped his hat and hurried ahead, cheeks rosy from the encounter. He hailed a black cab, and loaded her trunk inside of it. She gave him the address on Bourbon Street, and the driver whisked her away toward the French Quarter. Violet took in the city from the back of the car, gazing out the window into the rainy streets. Through the gray haze, she could make out ornate porches, and cheerfully painted buildings. Naples yellow and crimson, framed with cast iron vines. Flowers and palms spilled from window boxes and balconies. A streetcar trundled by her window. She was staying at the home of a friend from New York, a banker who had roots in Louisiana. He had warned her of the rough and tumble environment as he handed her the keys, and then he laughed, and allowed that it was probably just the kind of excitement she was looking for.

  Though the rain fell harder as they drove, the streets were filled with people of all colors and origins, crisscrossing in front of them, huddled under umbrellas or the necks of their jackets. Violet smiled to herself. Soon the car pulled to a stop in front of a two story house. It was painted a deep emerald green with grey painted shutters, and the cast iron porches of each story were overflowing with spring flowers. A light hung just above the front doors, glowing warmly in the fog, beckoning Violet into her new home. As she walked up the steps, the cab-driver close behind lugging her trunk, the double doors opened, and she was greeted by a matronly woman with a friendly smile.

  “Welcome, welcome, Ms. Miller. I’m Caroline…Mr. Astor has instructed me to take very good care of you. Come in, come in!” She beckoned Violet forward, shuffling around, taking her hat and her fur and instructing the driver on where to bring her luggage.

  “Thank you Caroline,” Violet smiled, relieved to be rid of her belongings. She looked around the inside of her new home with great interest. She was standing in the front hallway. The grey light of the day filtered in through long sheer curtains, illuminating a room decorated in the latest style. There were bits and pieces of Mr. Astor’s travels on display—an alligator head sat on a small table. Violet recognized paintings by some of their friends. A Picasso nude hung next to a Dalí sketch.

  “I’ll give you the grand tour, shall I?” Caroline bustled back into the room. She was a small, round woman, with rosy cheeks, dressed in a classic grey maid’s costume with a flour-dusted apron tied about her ample waist.

  “Yes, thank you,” Violet replied. “I love it already.”

  Caroline lead her through the first floor. The dining room, drawing room, water closet, and through to a back garden, surrounded by high walls, and replete with a small swimming pool. They stood on the back porch for a moment as Violet took it all in. It was nothing like New York City. The colors of the rose bushes that surrounded the yard appeared brighter and more vibrant somehow. The rain had stopped now, and the clouds had begun to turn golden in the early evening.

  “Can I take my supper out here?” Violet asked the maid.

  “You can take your supper in the bath tub, for all I care,” she replied with a laugh. “Speaking of, you must be in quite a state after two days of travel. Why don’t I show you
upstairs to your quarters?” She led the way back into the house. Violet followed her up a staircase lined with photographs of exotic places. She glimpsed the pyramids of Egypt, and a Japanese garden as she passed.

  “This the guest room,” Caroline pushed open the door to their right. “And the studio, should you find any use for it.” She opened a second door. This room was unlike any other in the house. It was painted completely white. Even the wooden floor had been whitewashed. The windows were wide and exposed.

  “I say, this is awfully wonderful,” Violet breathed, stepping into the room. There was a desk by the windows, and an easel stood folded in the corner. There were two shelves, each bursting with paints and pencils and chalks. “Mr. Astor is terribly thoughtful, isn’t he,” she said, turning to Caroline with a smile.

  “Yes ma’am,” the woman replied. “Now if you’ll come this way, I’ll show you to your quarters.” She showed Violet to her room. It was a large room with windows on two sides. The walls were painted a deep dusky blue, and the dark mahogany bed was dressed with white linens. Before the windows, green plants, exotic ferns, and cactuses were stacked on ornate iron stands. Some hung from the ceiling, dripping with pink and white blossoms. A small white couch sat across from the bed with a matching chair. The room gave off an impression of calm. Violet was beside herself with its beauty. Everything in New York was dingy and dirty compared to the vibrancy of this place.

  “And here’s your washroom,” Caroline concluded the tour. “The furnace is going, so the water’s nice and hot for you. I’ll leave you to it.”