by Meg Ripley
"Let me show you."
He tucked his other arm around her and she didn't protest as he started moving away from the building and into the darkness. He carried her a short way before she saw a row of smaller homes positioned along a winding trail. He walked through the door to one and she felt them climbing stairs before he lowered her gently onto a soft mattress.
Makhahr came down with her, stretching his body over hers so that she could feel the full weight of him crushing her down into the bed. It felt warm and fulfilling, and Hava indulged herself by lifting her head to run her tongue along his collarbone. He kissed her languidly for a few long seconds before bringing his hands to the hem of her shirt and nudging it up.
Hava submitted to him, allowing his hands to move patiently over her body, removing each article of clothing until she lay bare in front of him. She felt herself trembling with nearly uncontrollable desire, a need that far surpassed the time she had known him to a connection that she couldn't understand but craved.
He gazed down at her admiringly, seeming to take in all of her before pushing back off the end of the bed to stand over her. She watched him kick off his black boots and bring his hands to the front of his belt.
"Your hair," she whispered and he paused, "Take your hair down."
He complied, releasing his hair from its tie and letting it tumble down around his shoulders. Hava bit her bottom lip, wriggling her hips against the bed as she sought relief from the incredible pressure building between her thighs.
Makhahr continued undressing, releasing the sexy studded belt and unbuttoning the buttons along the fly on his pants. As soon as he eased his pants down his hips, she knew what he meant by more powerful. She gasped at the sight of him and felt her mouth water. Rather than intimidated by his sheer size, she was even more aroused. Her body readied for him with a wash of hot slickness and she opened her arms as he crawled up onto the bed.
Gathering him in her arms, Hava let him part her thighs and pull her pelvis up so that the tip of his erection massaged her. The delicious feeling flowed through her and her head dropped back against the pillows. He continued to rub against her, nurturing her and bringing her closer and closer to the edge.
His hand smoothed along the inside of her thigh and down the juncture between her hip and leg so that he could touch her. As soon as his fingers traced through her folds, she heard him groan.
"You are so wet," he murmured.
Hava's body squeezed at the pure, unfettered eroticism of the words and heard a whimper escape her own lips.
"Are you ready for me?" he whispered.
Hava nodded.
"Yes."
The tip of his shaft replaced his fingers at her opening and she felt him gradually sink into her. He eased forward slowly and cautiously, and she gasped as her body stretched to hold him. The feeling was intense, but wonderful as he filled her completely.
"Relax," he said softly and she willed her muscles to soften and accept even more of him.
As her body eased, she felt him start to move. He rolled his hips, sinking deeper into her with each stroke until she finally felt his hipbones touch hers. His hands gripped her butt and she felt him hold her in place as he thrust, putting himself at an angle that caused her to cry out each time the tip of his erection hit the deeply pleasurable place inside her.
Hava buried her fingers in his hair and stared into his eyes as he increased his pace. His sounds began to build and she felt the pressure tightening within her body until suddenly it crashed, contracting around him and then dissolving into a series of tremors that took her breath away. As her body milked him, she felt him swell and harden even further until he threw his head back and let out a roar, spilling into her with each throb deep inside her.
When the most intense waves of their climaxes slowed and quieted, Makhahr lowered himself beside her and tucked his head onto her shoulder so that he could rest a kiss to her neck. She cuddled against him, letting his warmth surround her and lull her into a deep, restful sleep.
****
The next morning Hava and Makhahr sat beside each other at the same long table as the night before. She held his hand in both of hers and rested it on her lap, finding comfort in him being so close to her. He had tied his hair back and wore his mask again, but now Hava found the intense, dominant effect even sexier.
"We will send the warriors back and let them deal with the rogues there."
"That is too dangerous. What if the battle is more severe than we anticipate and critical lives are lost? Ben has not been able to figure out why the people who have fallen have no hearts when he autopsies them. If we do not understand their attack methods, how are we to fight them?"
"We are running out of time. They have positioned themselves at just 24 hours from the vote. By now they have likely noticed your absence, gentlemen. It is important that you return at the proper time."
Hava listened to the men for several minutes before she realized that two were missing.
"Where are Jake and Josh?" she asked, suddenly feeling frantic.
"We unlocked a portal that opens in a different location close in time to the one you used to get here. We have returned them home."
"You sent them back? Without letting me know?"
"Would you have left?" Makhahr asked quietly and she turned to look at him.
"No," she answered truthfully, "but I would like to have said goodbye." She gazed into his eyes and something that he had said the night before flashed through her mind again, "If they were able to go back, I think I might know how to end this without losing any lives."
"What do you have in mind?" the man across the table from her asked.
"I will need to go with you when you go back to the point in time where they are."
"It is too dangerous."
"It may be the only way. Bring me with you and I will explain everything then."
Hava felt like her lungs were collapsing and she fought to breathe. The air around her burned when she drew it in and the sounds were loud enough that she felt like they were ricocheting in her head, drowning out her own thoughts. She pressed against the stone wall in the alley, focusing on the cobblestones of the street beside her so that she could force herself to acclimate.
1776 Philadelphia was louder, faster, and more aggressive than she could have imagined. She could feel the stirrings of Revolution in the air and the tension of families and friends torn apart by a singular, critical question of loyalty versus independence.
"When will the Declaration be finished?"
"Tonight. The men have all returned to their positions and will follow through with the pattern as we know it. It is our job to protect them and ensure that they get the document completed and distributed. As soon as it is read, the pattern is set and the rogues are destroyed."
"I need a piece of parchment."
Makhahr gave her a quizzical look.
"Why?"
"Please just trust me."
He nodded and they crept down the alley toward a backdoor that led them into a room near where the men were meeting. She could hear a heated argument and caught familiar phrases. They were piecing together the Declaration, stitching the words carefully to create a document that would change the course of history.
She found a piece of clean parchment and a pencil and jotted a quick note on the back. When she was finished, she handed it to Makhahr.
"Make sure that this is the piece of parchment that they have the official copy transcribed on. Meet me outside in ten minutes."
She touched a quick kiss to his lips and ducked back outside, stepping out into the oppressive heat of a July afternoon. They had told her how to recognize the rogues and she scanned the people who passed by carefully. None seemed to notice her, almost as though she were so out of place that they simply didn't register that she was there. Finally, she noticed one of the rogues and began to follow him.
Hava stepped up close behind him, letting images of Makhahr temper the fear that was bu
ilding inside her, and started to murmur words just loud enough for him to hear.
"When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth…"
She felt a hand grab her by the back of the neck and she suppressed a scream as the hand dragged her into another alley. The man who had been in front of her followed and as soon as they were away from the street, he pushed her up against the wall.
"How do you know those words?" he hissed, his face so close to hers that she could feel the spray of his saliva settle onto her cheek.
"I learned them in school."
"They have not finished those words yet."
"Are you sure?"
"Hava?"
She heard Makhahr's voice and she ducked suddenly, managing to slip under the man's arm and run down the alley toward him. A few people jumped out of her way, suddenly aware of her presence, but she couldn’t stop to worry about that. She could feel the rogue following her and she knew she had only a few minutes. The sun was already setting and the Founding Fathers were more vulnerable than ever.
"Bring me to the portal," she demanded when she saw Makhahr, "Do not stop the man who is following us. Just come with me."
They ran until they were back at the portal and Hava felt herself dragged into it. The feeling had become familiar to her and she didn't resist it, enabling her to land on her feet and continue running.
"I need you to get me to Washington, D.C.," she said as they ran through the building toward the original portal where she had arrived, "It doesn't matter when."
Makhahr moved levers along the wall until it shimmered and glowed in a purple so vibrant she had to squint. She reached for his hand, needing his touch to soothe her, and let the portal take her. When they landed, she looked around and realized that they were in the National Archives. She gave a sob of relief and pulled Makhahr to the side, concealing them around a corner.
Seconds later the rogue landed in a crouch beside the portal. He rose slowly to his feet and another appeared behind him. A moment later, two more appeared. Makhahr glared and began to rush toward them, but Hava held him back.
"Wait," she said.
They hesitated for a few more moments and then Hava grabbed him by his arm and started to run. Relying on her memory from fieldtrips when she was younger, she guided him, and the rogues now chasing them, through the National Archives Building until they reached the Rotunda. She sent up a prayer of thanks that the space was empty of tourists, ran up to the podium set in the center and wrapped her hands around the velvet rope blocking access to it.
"We hold these truths to be self-evident," she started to read, "that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
She saw Makhahr's face brighten and heard strangled gasps behind them. She turned in time to see the rogues backing away from their, their chests collapsing in before they finally crumbled into dust. Her knees buckled and Hava lowered herself to the floor.
Makhahr dropped down beside her and gathered her into his arms.
"How did you know what to do?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"You told me that there are moments that must always exist and that the rogues could only change the patterns of time once. I knew that the message I wrote on the back of that piece of parchment would still be there when I came back here, because I heard about it the first time I came to see this copy. If we forced them to acknowledge a future that they didn't want to see exist, they would not be able to go into the past and change it because they already changed that past simply by being there."
Makhahr tilted her back and looked at her, the expression in his eyes looking stunned but overjoyed. He drew her close and kissed her deeply.
"You are my yesterday, my today, and my tomorrow," he whispered.
Hava tucked her hand around his neck and rested her forehead against his. She finally knew what had been calling to her for her entire life. In her heart, Makhahr always was and always would be.
THE END
Steamy Contemporary Romance By Jade Allen: Bad Boys, Rock Stars, Billionaires and More
French Kiss
What would you do if you found out your boyfriend had not only been fucking around with a bunch of other girls, but had posted his disgusting exploits online for all of the world to see?
I lost it and bought a one-way ticket to France, planning to focus on my art while vowing to swear off of dating men for at least six months.
But all of that went out the window when I met Jacques, my unbelievably-hot, tatted-up new neighbor who lives in the apartment across the narrow alleyway from mine.
Our language barrier melts when we're alone together. Jacques worships my body in ways that no man has even come close to, and his touch unlocks a passion inside of me that I never knew existed.
But can I trust him? He may play guitar for The Four Pistols, but I swear, I’ll never be played again.
Chapter One
Nora
I’m in my dorm, studying for the High Renaissance through Modern Art final, when my phone buzzes. I try to ignore it, but after looking at slides of Brunelleschi and Caravaggio back and forth to try and make sure I could determine the differences between them at a glance for the last twenty minutes, I’m more than ready for a distraction. The text is from my friend, Claire.
Nora. Nora. Need to talk to you. Right. Now.
I roll my eyes at the message; it always seems to be an emergency with Claire.
I text her back.
I’m studying for the Ren and Mod Art final, can’t this wait?
I try to turn my attention back to the notes from class, but almost as soon as I put my phone down, it’s buzzing again with another text from Claire.
Seriously, girl. I’m coming up right now.
I shake my head and prepare myself for the ordeal of listening to another story about an ugly penis from some Tinder hookup she’s landed, or a crisis about finding one of our professors on Bumble; something like that.
Claire has never experienced a true emergency in her life, and normally I’m pretty down for tales of her misadventures, but right now—with my last tests and my final project on the line before I finally get my degree—I just don’t feel up to giving her the reaction she wants.
But Claire has also been my best friend since the first week of freshman year, when we met at orientation, so I feel like I have to humor her. Besides, I tell myself that everyone says the occasional break is good during long study sessions. I might as well go along with it, since Claire obviously won’t leave me alone until I do. So, I put my laptop aside and set my notes down on the coffee table, and by the time I’m ready for her, there’s a knock at my door.
“Okay, so I don’t want you to freak out or anything, but this is kind of big,” Claire says as I unlock the door to let her in. She’s got her phone in her hand, and I’m convinced she’s about to tell me some long story about some guy from one of the dating apps turning out to be a catfish or something, so I get myself ready to laugh.
“Just tell me what’s going on so I can get back to studying, okay?” I throw myself down onto the couch. “You may not have any finals to worry about until next week, but Drexler is going hard for Ren to Mod, so I definitely need to bring my A-game to the final.”
“This is kind of more important than finals,” Claire says, and I see she’s actually starting to look nervous; maybe even doubtful.
“Stop dragging this out, Claire,” I tell her. “Whatever dude sent you a picture of his herp-infected dick probably doesn’t deserve this much drama.”
“That’s not what I’m here about,” Claire says. She sits down in what my roommate and I call the “guest chair” since, by default, we both claim the couch, and presses her lips together.
“So, what is it?” I just stare at he
r, hoping she’ll get to the point already. “Spit it out.”
“Well, it does have to do with Tinder, so you were partly right,” Claire says, biting her bottom lip. “But the thing is...okay, just…just look, Nora.” She hands me her phone and I raise an eyebrow. Her screen is locked, but I’ve had her passcode memorized for a year now, so it takes me all of two seconds to get it open.
I’m expecting a dick pic, or some weird picture with some bizarre fetish with one of her exes, or something like that; maybe at worst some text message from a friend talking about catching an STD from someone we both know. Instead, I find myself staring at a profile from Tinder.
Ethan, 22.
My heart starts beating faster as I read the little bio section; the top picture isn’t of a person, but instead, a car. But the bio section makes me start to realize what Claire’s trying to tell me.
Fashion Design at UKA, so I know how to do a body good. Snap: KingSateen, Insta: LeatherandLace. For the real X-rated stuff, check out MasterDisaster.
“Someone’s catfishing,” I say, shaking my head.
I flip through the Tinder pictures, and there he is: my boyfriend, at his parent’s beach house. It can’t be him, though; we’ve been dating since fall semester of freshman year, almost as long as I’ve even known Claire. He’s been dropping hints all semester that he might propose at graduation. We’ve been planning on moving in together at the end of summer. It just can’t be him; it doesn’t make any sense.
“Nora, what if it’s really him?”
I shake my head again. “No—no, someone’s just...they’re trying to pretend to be him, that’s all it is.” I hand Claire her phone back and I feel like my whole body’s gone cold.
“Nora, it’s not like some of those pictures exist in that many places,” Claire points out. “And why would someone want to pretend to be Ethan?”