Tony. An eerie chill ran through her body. Good heavens, what had she done?
Whatever it takes, she heard Theodore say.
It was what he always said when he asked her help in apprehending one of Time’s Enemies. All the times she’d played the floozy to entice a criminal to the Society House... A different kind of burn rose inside her at the memory. Thank heavens it had never gone further.
Until now.
Whatever it takes. Theodore would think no less of her for tempting Tony with her body.
No. Inviting Tony into her bed had nothing to do with the Society. Nothing to do with who he was to Theodore. There was one reason she’d asked him to make love to her.
Because she wanted to.
It had been everything she’d imagined and more, a sense of two souls entwined along with their bodies in a way she’d never imagined possible.
The day seemed brighter than those that had come before, a crisp, clear portent of things to come, of contentment that went beyond simple happiness. Pure joy.
Strange, how a few days ago she’d had to push aside worries about what the neighbors would think, her allowing a man who wasn’t her husband to live with her, albeit as a boarder. Yet away from the world and its judgments—not to mention Theodore and the Saturn Society—everything was right, if only for a short time. In their tiny, insular domain of the cabin and the surrounding wood, the woes of the world seemed far away. Though the cabin was primitive and lacked any luxuries, she and Tony had everything they needed—most of all, each other.
She loved him.
She tossed back the covers, jumped out of bed and hurried to the door.
A tantalizing scent of fried eggs drifted on the breeze. Outside, utensils clanged on cookware. Charlotte gripped the doorframe and peered out hesitantly.
Tony crouched next to the fire and flipped over some sliced potatoes in a frying pan. He wore only his drawers. Charlotte’s hand curled and uncurled at the memory of brushing her hand up the fine hairs of his chest. And he was cooking breakfast. Her insides contracted. No man had ever done that for her, not even Papa. He’d had a housekeeper until Mabel had grown old enough to cook. Tony flipped an egg. He leaned back and startled when he saw her.
A big grin lit up his face. He’d be able to see her perfectly in the daylight with his glasses on, but Charlotte refused to shrink away. “Stand there much longer and breakfast’ll be burned.” His words washed away the last of her misgivings.
Her smile grew but she didn’t move.
After they made love, dressed, and ate breakfast (which Tony took off the fire and reheated), he suggested going for a walk.
At her request, they took the upper trail. They walked through the wood until they neared the dam site, then sat on a log overlooking the construction site, where WPA workers shoveled gravel, dirt and river silt.
“All this is under water in my time,” Tony mused. His time. To which the pull would soon force him to return.
“What’s it like?” Charlotte asked.
Tony made a sweeping gesture. “All this is a huge lake. There’s a big campground on the far end, and a marina... it’s a beautiful lake. Maybe not this beautiful, but...”
“What’s Dayton like?”
“The same in some ways. Different in others. The statue at First and Main’s still there, and so is the old courthouse.” He told her about the performing arts center that would go up where Rike’s was.
“What about my house? What’s it like in the twenty-first century?”
He regarded her from the side of his eye. “Gone. Torn down to make way for I-75.”
Confusion washed across her face. “What’s—“
“A superhighway,” he explained.
She fiddled with the quarter. “What does it look like?”
“I-75? It’s eight lanes—”
“No, I mean where my house was. Is.”
“Concrete. Nothing but sloped concrete. The highway’s above the city, and where your house sits, there’s six pillars that support the road. This big.” He stretched his arms into a semblance of a bear hug.
Charlotte gazed toward the dam workers. Her house, gone. She supposed that was the price of progress, something she normally favored, but the idea that she wouldn’t always live there brought a sinking sensation to her belly.
Finally, they walked back down the trail. She didn’t speak until they were almost to the cabin, when something else occurred to her. “Tony? When I found you on my front porch, after I carried you in... you called me Violet. Why?”
Tony stopped and she stumbled into him. “What did you say?” he asked.
“You called me Violet.”
“I did?”
She laughed, but it came out a nervous titter. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“I was pretty out of it, if you’ll recall.” The workings of his tripped-out mind from the warp, no doubt. He said as much to Charlotte as he resumed walking. “You do look a lot like her.”
“Who is she?”
“She’s the one who caught me when I started to slide down the pyramid. She works in my office. She uh, helps people with technical problems.” A grimace flashed across his face, as if he’d said something he wished he hadn’t.
Charlotte’s ears perked up. “What sort of technical things?” She drew up beside him, determined not to let him evade the question.
“Things like the calculator. It would take a while to explain.”
Charlotte laughed. “I have time.”
Tony slowed. “Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea... letting you in on technology ahead of its time—”
“What can I do? I’m just one woman. Surely I—”
“You build things in your basement. I’ve seen the books you read. Sometimes one person is all it takes.” He shot her a stern look.
Fine, she could change the subject, then circle back around to it when he wasn’t so guarded. “This Violet. Is she someone special?”
Relief slipped over Tony as they emerged in the clearing near the Fishin’ Shack. “Yeah... but not in the way you are.”
Warmth coated Charlotte’s insides, and she couldn’t stop the sappy grin from stealing onto her face.
“I was thinking of going down to the river to take a bath,” he said. “Want to join me?”
Her joy dissipated at the thought of all that water, pulling at her, trapping her in its grip, sucking her under... “N- no thanks, I’ll stay here.”
“You sure?” She nodded. “Because we could do more than just wash.”
She wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t do that.
He took the fork in the trail to the river by himself.
Tony unbuttoned his shirt and had just unbuckled his belt when he remembered. Soap. With a sigh, he trudged back up the trail.
His breath lodged in his throat when he neared the cabin.
Charlotte bent beside the hand pump. She wore nothing but her quarter, dangling on its chain above her gorgeous, round breasts. As she rubbed a washcloth over one smooth thigh, Tony crept closer. “What are you doing?”
She jumped, snatched a towel off the pump and covered herself. “I thought you went to the river.” Why was she suddenly self-conscious, when he’d seen it all?
“I forgot the soap. Why are you—”
“I’m just washing up a little.”
Tony’s brows lowered. “Why don’t you go to the river? It’s been so warm these past few days, the water’s not cold at—”
“I can’t.” She gripped the towel tighter. Despite the warm sun, she shivered.
He rushed to her and gathered her into his arms. Her towel slid to the ground. The cool wetness seeping through his shirt felt good against his chest. She trembled. “You never learned to swim, did you?” he asked softly.
“No.”
He held her for a long minute. “Come to the river with me.” He held his hand, palm down, at his waist. “Only this high, even in the deepest spot. Much better than tryi
ng to wash like that.”
“I don’t know...” Her voice quavered. “I- I hate water.”
“I’ll hold you the whole time.” He released her, then placed his hands on both sides of her face. “I don’t want you to be afraid. Of anything.”
“A- all right.”
He took off his clothes, then grabbed her hand with one of his and snatched the soap with the other while she scooped up the towel. He led her to the riverbank.
He held her close as she took in the scene. A few dozen yards upstream, water danced over a series of rocks, then slowed where it deepened. She shuddered.
“It’s okay.” He tipped her chin up with a finger and kissed her. Just a quick one, but it was enough to finish the job of waking up other parts of him. “Ready?”
Her jaw tense, she nodded. “Don’t let me go.” Her features drew tight.
“I won’t.” He ignored the throbbing in his groin and led her into the water. Her arm wrapped around him, then squeezed tighter as they waded in deeper.
He pulled her to him, careful not to drop the soap, and let her get used to the water. Slowly her shivering subsided. “Not bad once you get used to it, huh?”
“It’s... refreshing.” The cool water flowed around them and made little eddies around her hips. Her gaze followed a fish the size of her foot as it swam by, its tail and fins rippling in the water. “There’re fish in here!”
Tony chuckled. “It is the Fishin’ Shack, after all.”
“W- will they bite us?” Another fluttered past.
“They might nibble, but it doesn’t hurt. Feels sort of like this...” He lightly pinched her arm. She giggled. He held her for another minute to allow her to acclimate—not so much to the temperature, for the day was warm, but to push away her fear. Finally, her trembling stopped. He rubbed the soap up and down her back, all over, then down the side of her arm. “Lift your arm.”
She obeyed, and he ran the soap up the underside of her arm. Her skin glistened in the afternoon sun. So incredibly smooth. Then he brought the soap down and rubbed it over her side, around the curve of her breast. She allowed him to take a step back so he could wash her front, though she didn’t let go of his other hand. Her nipples were already tensed into tight peaks. He lingered over them, eliciting a soft moan. Then he switched hands so he could wash her other side and arm. “Hold this.” He handed her the soap.
“What?”
“Can’t leave you all sudsy.” She looked down at the water, and her eyes grew wide. “You don’t have to go under. Here.” He leaned close so their bodies pressed together. She trembled. “It’s okay,” he said softly. He scooped up a handful of water behind her back and released it over her. Then he spun her around within the circle of his arms so her back pressed against his chest, and did the same thing to her front, rubbing under her quarter between her breasts, cupping his hands over them as he rinsed.
He couldn’t stop himself from twirling his thumbs over her hardened nipples. She threw her head back against him. “Oh, Tony...” She turned around and placed her hands on his waist, still clutching the soap. “I think I’m clean enough.” Her eyes gleamed, and his loins tightened even more. God, he needed her. Now.
But instead he said, “No you’re not. Here...”
Her eyes grew wide, but she allowed him to step back and lift one of her legs. He took the soap from her and rubbed it over her thigh. She started to shake again, her jaw tensed, but she let him extend her leg and rub the soap up and down her calf, then raised it higher, bending her knee so he could wash between her toes. She yelped. He looked up with a grin. Her shivering had stopped again, and her smile matched his. “Am I clean enough now?”
He was on fire but he shook his head.
He washed the other leg, then slowly rubbed the soap over the smooth flesh of her belly, then lower, dipping his finger into the slippery wetness where he ached to go. “Tony...” she groaned. “This is killing me.”
“Me too.” His voice grated. He started to toss the soap onto the grass when she grabbed his hand.
“Wait a minute.” She stepped back, no longer trembling, although one hand still gripped his arm. “You haven’t washed yet.”
“Give me the soap then.”
“Uh-uh.” She lathered up his back. The slippery softness of her hands glided all over him, as he’d done to her.
Her gentle touch was almost enough to make him come undone. “Charlotte...” He could barely speak.
“Not yet.”
He bit back a gasp. She continued to rub around his backside, then hesitated as she drew her hands around front. She looked up at him, eyebrows raised.
“Go ahead,” he said through clenched teeth.
A smile spread across her face as she threw the soap to shore. She gently cupped his balls, slowly slid her fingers around, then up his cock. The ache grew worse with each millimeter. “My God, Charlotte, I can’t take it any more.”
With a giggle, she released him. “That’s good, because I think we’re done.”
Clutching her buttocks, he pulled her against him. She hooked her feet around his waist, and he lifted her, then slowly lowered her onto him. “Oh, God,” he said. She moaned. He rocked her up and down, the water splashing in time as he raised and lowered her in and out.
It wasn’t long before she tightened around him, and her rhythmic squeezes made him lose control. “Tony, I love you,” she said softly. Her legs released their hold and she stood in the water.
She loved him. Joy swelled in his chest, so much he thought he’d burst. He drew her into his arms and pulled her tightly against him. He wanted to tell her he loved her, too, but the words wouldn’t come. Too soon, he’d have to leave her, never to return.
The passion in her eyes faded to fear. “Me, too,” he managed. He backed away, never taking his eyes off her. He couldn’t say it, not yet, but he was in love with her. The thought made his insides all jumpy, a happy sensation full of promise and delight. Why did he have to leave? Then he remembered what she’d said that first night. Better to have a moment of happiness than to always wonder what you missed.
She dropped his hand and stood on her own. Droplets of water sparkled on her cheeks. From splashing... or tears? She trembled. “Charlotte...” He reached for her, but she didn’t take his hand. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.” The corners of her mouth twitched up. “I’m not afraid. As long as you’re with me.” He wouldn’t think about the fact that before long, he wouldn’t be.
Tony did a mental calculation as he set down the tackle box, speared a fresh worm onto the hook, and tossed it in. The shouts of workers, the clangs of tools and equipment drifted to him from the dam site upriver.
Counting recovery, he’d been in 1933 for fourteen days. The last three had passed in a blur of meals shared, walks in the woods, and making love. It was like he was twenty-two again. Although neither mentioned it, they both knew time was short and it was as if they were trying to cram a lifetime of love into a few days. He wouldn’t be able to stay much longer—
Awful quiet all of a sudden. Was it quitting time already? He hadn’t thought it was that late. But the men’s shouts had ceased, replaced by the distant whoosh of—
Traffic?
He peered toward the construction site.
A massive wall of concrete rose up from the river.
He dropped the fishing pole, and his chest constricted. The dam. Whole. Complete. With cars trundling across its crest. Minivans. Pickup trucks. A semi with McDonald’s arches on its side rumbled by, quashing any doubt he might have had that this was the twenty-first century.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t go back, not here. He couldn’t leave Charlotte.
The buzz of the traffic disappeared. He opened his eyes as a man in a bucket being hoisted up the half-built dam shouted to another worker on the riverbank.
Tony’s muscles unclenched. He’d imagined it, that’s all. Something tugged at his line, and he pulled, forcing his thought
s to bringing in dinner.
But as he tied the catfish onto some spare line, he knew better. Fourteen days.
Tension enveloped him again. The completed dam and twenty-first century traffic had been real. His time in 1933—and with Charlotte—was nearing an end.
Their lovemaking that night was urgent, with a quiet desperation that lacked the easygoing, languid quality of their previous encounters. Charlotte clutched Tony against her with both arms and legs, as if their physical closeness would keep him with her for all time. He tensed, and spilled into her, then brought his lips to hers, joined in every way they possibly could...
Green. Hazy, all around. Cold...
What? She broke their kiss, inhaled...
Water. She spat, choked, the coldness clawed at her from every side, each inch of her body that wasn’t pressed to Tony’s. She sucked in another gulp of the chill water...
Drowning! She tried to scream. No air. Couldn’t breathe... Tony’s grip on her tightened.
The green surrounding her grew darker...
CHARLOTTE STRUGGLED TO BREATHE AS HER WORLD went murky green, then dark. She flailed, her thoughts an incoherent jumble, except for one—(drowning)—then the water’s surface broke and she sucked in air, blessed, life-giving air
“Charlotte?” She opened her eyes. Tony hovered over her, his face twisted with concern. “Charlotte!”
She shook her head, and tremors racked her body. “Water.... everywhere... Noooooooo....”
Tony rolled off her. She was soaked, as was the mattress beneath them. He touched his stomach, then pulled his hand back, staring at it, wide-eyed. “You... you were in the water, too?” He brushed a sopping lock of hair off her face.
She blubbered an assent. “Water... no...” She couldn’t stop shivering. Couldn’t shake the slimy feel of wetness on her skin, the certainty she was about to drown, just like in the flood...
Tony sat up and pulled her against him. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He lowered his hand to the straw mattress, and droplets of water splashed on her. Then he withdrew one of his arms—No! He can’t go now, please, not now—and grabbed the quilt they’d shoved onto the floor in the frenzy of their lovemaking.
Time's Enemy: A Romantic Time Travel Adventure (Saturn Society Book 1) Page 26