by Claire Davon
They walked in silence for a minute, following the rutted dirt path until the forest was thick around them. Then Sonder pointed inward, and she nodded. She followed him into the dark green trees until they could not be seen from the path.
Fiona gestured to the forest floor and plopped herself down. Sonder followed suit, after brushing the area a little more carefully and placing his body down on the leaves, his legs arranged in a crossed position.
“Tell and tell time, Sonder. Where and when are you from?”
She never imagined that that was a question she would have to ask. The man in her dreams had never identified himself, but she’d always assumed he was going to be someone who lived right around the corner, someone familiar but unknown, not a time traveler, from.…
“Arizona. Fifty years ahead of your time.” He took the hand he had released to let her sit and traced circles in her palm with his other hand. Her skin tingled where he touched her.
“Are things very different?”
He shook his head. “Not as much as you might imagine. There are no flying cars, we don’t have a moon base, and the world hasn’t managed to destroy itself–yet.” He paused, and his face grew somber.
She knew he was thinking about this mysterious Event that everyone had mentioned, and she was seriously curious about it, but right now was much more curious about the gorgeous man sitting next to her. One she finally had alone.
“Global warming is a rapidly increasing problem, and some of the low lying cities have had to take measures to prevent yearly flooding with the rains.”
“You mean the politicians finally admit it exists?”
He looked surprised and then thoughtful. “Yes, of course.” He paused again. “Right. There was a question in your time of whether global warming was real or a hoax invented by scientists.” He chuckled. “If they could time travel, they could see how very real it is. We’ve lost pieces of many of the Northern glaciers around the world now, and the rest are thinning. We are working on solutions.”
Fiona thought about the politicians in her day. “I would really hate to let either political party loose to time travel the world. One would be trying to save JFK, the other to kill Roosevelt. Or worse.”
He chuckled. “Very America centric of them.”
“Well, of me, anyway,” she said wryly. “Hitler just seemed like such a cliché.”
“Even in my day, JFK still is as well.” He paused again. “There have been far worse dictators than Hitler in time, and there will be again. Perhaps. But even if we could travel to those times, we don’t know what impact changing one thing, altering one life, would truly have on the world. Have you ever read any of Harry Turtledove’s Alternate History series?”
She shook her head.
“It’s required reading at the base. We have all of them and most of the related stories by his compatriots. What he envisions when one part history is altered is–fascinating. We simply don’t know what would happen so we, the Guardians, have taken on the mantle of making sure history’s timeline doesn’t get altered.”
“Lucky that your people–or the people who recruited you–found that base.”
He shrugged, picking up a leaf and twirling it around in his hand by the stem. It was still green, but the edges were tinted brown, and the leaves below them were a mix of brown, red, yellow, and green–vibrant colors that spoke of early Fall. Considering the location of Pepperell, it was probably early September.
She’d really jumped to Pepperell, a place she’d never been, based on pictures. If that was all it took, a memory, a picture, some sort of visual or emotional imprint, to enable her to move through time, Fiona realized she could go pretty much anywhere with a good picture and a solid reference.
Good lord.
“Luck?” He shrugged, a shrug so full of meaning that she blinked. “Was it luck that we found the bases and not governments? It seems highly unlikely, and even more unlikely we have kept it secret all this time. It could be luck…or.…”
Oh geez. Right. “I am feeling the heat of the black helicopters right now,” she joked and then saw, by his blank expression, he had no clue what she meant. Then those conspiracy theories hadn’t survived to his time, Fiona realized with amusement. “Black helicopters. Secret governments.” He still looked blank. “Conspiracy theories. You know, black helicopters swooping in to enforce martial law and scoop up innocent citizens?”
Sonder looked over at her, his dark eyes haunted and weary.
“You haven’t seen the large portal, Fiona. The writing isn’t any language we know. If it’s human it’s no human that exists in our time.” He shook his head and let out a slow whistle. “We haven’t been able to decipher any of it, except what they want us to, we think. The wrist portals direct us from time to time. The large portal is only at the bases.” He looked at her again, and then rose to his feet, dusting the remnants of leaves off his butt and thighs with a smooth motion. Then he held out his hand to Fiona, who accepted it and rose with him.
Heat arched from his palm, the kind of heat that made Fiona want to lean into him and feel his whole body warmth. He looked down at her, his eyes hooded before they cleared, and she saw the distinct look of pure male interest.
“When I saw you in the time mist, your hair seeming part of that air, your eyes wide and very frightened, your skin still dancing with the light of the jump, it was like I had emerged from a dream. I thought I was still sleeping for a moment, and having dreams I didn’t want to awaken from.”
She flushed. Men didn’t talk to her that way. In her world of online dating and Facebook interactions, the language was more perfunctory and to the point. Chit chat and flowery language had gone out the window, at least in the world she occupied. Apparently, in the future, it would somehow come back.
“I know how you feel,” she murmured, flushing to the roots of her hair. “They were very nice dreams.” A thought occurred to her, one she never would have thought of before the last three days. “Were they?” She looked up at him and stepped one step closer. “Dreams? Or were they something else? I could never have thought something like that, but now….”
He looked at her again and put his arm around her. Turning her body slightly, he put his other arm around her and tugged her closer. Her arms went around his neck, feeling the small hairs at the back, the warmth of his skin.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s never happened before. Not that I have ever heard of. Nobody has ever talked about parallel dreams. It could have happened, but it’s never been discussed. Then again, you never existed before, so the rule book no longer exists.”
“Football,” she said suddenly. “Does it still exist in fifty years?”
He smiled. “Yes. I’m a casual fan. Super Bowl.”
“Does Los Angeles have a team?”
“Of course!” He sounded indignant. “They dominate the AFC, won four Super Bowls in ten years.” He paused. “I think, hmm, Los Angeles didn’t have a team in your time?” She nodded. “They do now.”
“I see.”
His lips were so close, so full, so tempting. She ran a thumb down the nape of his neck, lingering over the first vertebrae she felt.
“Screw football,” she said huskily and saw his eyes darken.
“Yes.”
There was the sound of a stream, not too far off, and birds and cicadas making their usual sounds. Far, far off, there was the sound of a car, maybe two. Horses neighed, and she heard the low moo of a herd of cows.
Nothing compared to the harsh intake of breath from Sonder when she ran her hands over his shoulders and gently pressed into the muscles.
“In my dreams,” he began, his voice far too casual, “your hair is curlier, loose around your neck. Of course, it’s across my pillows.”
She felt his smile when their lips met before they slid across hers. He pulled her body into his, and she felt the rise of his cock, instantly growing hard and full against her belly.
“Mmm, nice,” sh
e murmured, using the opportunity to open her mouth and flick her tongue across his lower lip. He responded instantly, growling slightly, and pushed his tongue into her mouth. They met, tangled, and retreated, only to taste each other again. He touched the tip of his to hers again and then delved deeper. At the same time, his hands flexed against her butt and moved up, over her hips, and against her waist, rocking his pelvis against hers.
A shudder went through her. She had dates, mostly casual, and mostly group things. Her friends had tried to set her up with their brothers, cousins, and friends of friends, but nothing had stuck.
Nobody had measured up to the man in her arms. She had known intellectually that he couldn’t exist, but his brown-haired, dark-eyed face that would run to craggy when he got older haunted her, in dreams and awake.
The part of her not getting quickly turned on marveled at the idea that he was real. As bizarre as this whole situation was, the fact remained that the man she’d dreamt about since she was old enough to think about boys was here, kissing her.
“Fiona, hell,” he pushed her against him and rubbing so she felt how hard and heavy he was.
“Not hell, Pepperell. My mom thought it was kind of heavenly.” She pulled back just enough to see his eyes. “Kiss me again, Sonder. Kiss me hard.”
“Kissing won’t be enough if we keep this up for more than a few minutes. It’s been a…long time.”
“For me, too.”
His eyes darkened. “Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I kiss you. They were so blue in my dreams, but the dreams don’t compare. Not by a long shot.”
The shudder that went through her was one of surprise. Nobody had ever talked to her like that, and she had decided nobody ever would. That was for romance novels and movies, not reality.
She did as he asked, keeping her eyes open when he swooped in for another kiss, meeting his eyes as she felt his lips again, and then the tease of his tongue before it thrust deeper. His body moved against hers, showing her again how hard and full he was. She saw his pupils widen and felt a matching shudder go through him.
“Ah…Fiona.…” he said brokenly when they broke off again. “I…wow.…”
All that from a simple kiss? She realized he had pulled back and was studying her, and it was only then that she realized she hadn’t said much at all about her feelings. She was soft and wet, but he couldn’t tell that through clothes. His brow was furrowed under his spiky brown hair, and he looked a touch insecure.
“In my dreams,” she began uncertainly. “In my dreams, you are looking at me with such warmth, such…desire.”
“I feel all that and more.” He cupped her face and looked deep into her eyes. The passion she saw in his reassured her. “It’s crazy; we have only known each other for less than three days, but I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”
He was a strong, capable man, bred for the job he had fallen into. He was handsome and smart, with the kind of everyman looks that would have made him a sensation in the movies in her time.
She realized she was already thinking of it as “her time.”
A man like him probably wouldn’t have given her a second look in the subway, in Kenmore Square, or walking through Quincy Market. Men like him generally had sleek, brainless beauties by the dozen.
Generalizing. That’s what she was doing.
His chest was near, tempting, and much too heavy with cloth. “Why don’t we…lay on the leaves?” she offered, tracing the line of his hair from his forehead to his chin.
His breath caught. “Sure.” To her surprise, he pulled her off her feet and cradled her, then put her gently down on the leaves, following the line of her body with his hard one. She felt his warmth all the way from her toes to her shoulders and the warm spots in between.
“I, um, I’d like to, er.…” Her hands fluttered over his shoulders, and she plucked at the fabric of his shirt. “I’d like to see your chest. I have an idea…from dreams.…”
“Hmm.” A half smile tugged at his lips, and his eyes swept her body. “Me, too. Your breasts are so delicious looking.” He pulled at her jumpsuit, and she saw without surprise that the top half separated from the bottom. “Off with this.”
She paused and then let him strip off the top. “What about diseases?” She knew her voice was breathy. “Pregnancy?”
He played his thumbs over her nipples and thinking became difficult.
“Neither are a problem in my time. There are shots to keep men from impregnating women until both parties want to, and all sexually transmitted diseases have been eradicated.”
Well, okay then.
For a short moment she wondered if it was safe. What if someone came? What if THEY came? What if they were making love and someone came down the horse trails and caught them in the act?
Who cared? Her life had turned upside down, and she wanted a little human reassurance. She may die tomorrow–she may already be dead. None of it mattered. Old morals and old ways had no place in her weird new life.
Carpe diem. Seize the day. And the man.
His chest was as gloriously carved as she had imagined, defined not by the gym and weights but by work, lifting things, or people, or whatever, muscles earned by sweat and toil rather than reps.
She pulled the top off, shaking her hair free until she felt the strands around her bare shoulders.
“Lovely, just lovely,” he said, his eyes sweeping her body. “I want a taste.”
He rocked back on his haunches and pulled her to her knees. They were both naked to the waist, her body suit not coming with any undergarments.
“I want you to…ah.…” She gasped when, without preamble, he bent his head and engulfed one nipple with his lips, his tongue flicking out at the same time to touch the taut peak. He urged her back again, not breaking contact with her body, until she lay flat on the bed of leaves, his body half over hers, still suckling on her breast.
Sensations swamped her, tendrils of fast moving desire rushing through her body, centered on the feel of his tongue at her breast and his body covering hers until it lay pooled between her legs, the cloth of the bodysuit growing damp and clinging to her pussy.
Her hands moved restlessly over his back and shoulders, unable to reach his chest and, more importantly, his cock. She wanted to touch the hard flesh she felt against her, touch him until he was full to the point of bursting.
He suckled and suckled until she was gasping, short cries coming from her mouth, cries she barely recognized as hers. He switched breasts again and again until both were wet from his mouth, her nipples as hard as his cock.
“Sonder…ah.…” she said again, coherent thoughts impossible. “I want…”
“I want. Yes. I want, too,” he said with a growl.
He moved again and pulled his jumpsuit down until his cock burst free, sloping slightly downward, pointing towards her. She followed suit and they were both naked, the wind rustling slightly, stirring the leaves and the short peaks of his hair. The birds were chirping again, just a few, reminding her that whenever they were, they were not alone in this forested paradise.
“I want to feel you – all of you. Nothing between us.” Fiona ran her hands over his body again, emphasizing her words.
“As you wish. As I wish.”
He pulled her to him again, slanting his cock up so it lay hard and full between them.
If someone had told her three days ago that she’d be making love to someone who was essentially a stranger, she would have told them to go jump in the Charles River.
The Charles. The Hancock Tower. The Public Library. Boston. She may never see the city again and, even if she did, it would never be the same to her. Fiona pulled back as the rush of realization hit her, and she let out a small cry.
Sonder immediately stopped kissing her neck and gripped her shoulders slightly so he could look into her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
She studied him for a moment, considering the question as chills of fear and desire swept her at the
same time. Then she tilted her head up to his. “Carpe diem,” she said huskily. “Don’t stop.”
He captured her lips, once again urging her down to the leaves. She felt the slightly slimy, wet leaves under her, felt small pokes of their still sharp edges and stems, and felt, more than saw, the rise of the trees above them, the remaining leaves forming a canopy over their tableau.
Then there was nothing but Sonder when his hand pressed against her mound, his leg urging hers open as he did so. She complied, opening to him as another shudder–this one purely of desire–took her.
He found her clitoris within her mound and pressed on that too. Fiona jumped. The only hand besides her own that had been down there had been more than a year ago and his calloused, expert fingers were welcome, but strange.
“Nice and wet,” he murmured, his husky voice curling through her ear. “Yum.”
He bent and, with a graceful movement, bent to her and touched his tongue to her lower lips.
“Oh.…” she said brokenly. “Sonder.”
“Mmm....”
He found the small nub again and licked her once, twice and, when she bucked, covered her with his mouth and suckled hard. She yelped, desire racing through her to settle where he was licking, suckling, biting.…
Yum, indeed. Release built swift and hard, and she was already on the verge of coming but he backed off, licking her wet and open lips again, placing a kiss there and further down, on her taint, a place no man had ever explored.
Perhaps they were more adventurous in the future he lived in. Perhaps.…
“Sonder!” she cried as he circled her clit, his tongue flicking faster.
“Come for me, Fi, come for me.”
With a shudder, she obeyed, crying out into the wilderness, release pounding through her body, feeling him hold her legs while he continued to caress her until the shudders began to subside.
Then, another swift movement and he slid inside her, his cock hard and pulsing around her tight walls.
“So snug,” he said with a growl. He captured her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. She saw hard passion and something more glinting in those dark depths. Unable to resist, she kissed him, tasting herself and the slight scent of forest on his lips.