by Annie Seaton
She sat on the soft grass and lifted her hands in invitation. David dropped beside her and gently cupped her face in his hands, as he had the other night. But this time, his gaze was searching hers and there was intent in his eyes. His strong face was outlined in the moonlight and the wild black curls formed a halo around his head as the moonlight shone from behind him. Megan turned her head to kiss his palm and murmured against his warm skin.
“What if someone comes along? We could find ourselves up on YouTube before the night is over.”
David lifted his hand to cover hers and even her fingers tingled from his touch. “We’re far enough away to be private, but don’t worry. The solstice has played havoc with everyone’s phone.” He stared at her and his gaze was unwavering. “Trust me, no one will be taking photos with their phones here tonight.”
His deep voice surrounded her and need rushed through her blood. She arched her head back and gripped his shoulders as the wonder of the night filled her. The sky was brilliant with stars, and the soft halo of light from the full moon spilled down onto David’s loose curls. It was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.
Dropping her hands, she reached down to the hem of her T-shirt, pulled it up over her head, and dropped it on the ground before slowly getting to her feet. She stepped out of her jeans and stood before him, the moonlight bathing her skin with a translucent light.
David knelt in front of her and lowered his head. His long curls gently brushed the tips of her nipples and she sensed he was holding back as his mouth pressed against her stomach. Megan held his head against her bare skin for a moment before she lowered herself to the grass. When he took her mouth with his with a gentle kiss, she opened to him and let her tongue slide against his as he deepened the pressure of his lips. For a full minute, she savored the taste of him in her mouth, the warmth of his tongue, pushing and retreating. She drew a breath as his mouth moved along her cheek and caressed her ear before his lips blazed a hot trail down her neck.
“I want you, Megan. I shouldn’t. But you are in my blood.” His voice had roughened and held an edge of despair.
Megan’s whole body throbbed and her inhibitions fled as raw power consumed her. Her desire matched his. She didn’t care where she was, or if anyone could see her. Megan held David’s gaze as she slipped off the brief wisp of lace that was all that remained between her and sheer, naked freedom. She lay back in the soft grass and watched as he shed his jeans. A shaft of pure heat pulsed through her as he stood in front of her. The moonlight caught his body, but his face was shadowed. He was ready for her. He lay next to her but she craved his hard weight on her, in her, and filling her…but he paused and wooed her with gentle fingers. Thoughts flitted through her mind, sensations touched her skin, and the ache deep within her grew as his gaze locked with hers. He moved his head closer to hers and the close resemblance he bore to the rock star she’d idolised growing up actually stole her breath away for a moment. The face, the eyes, the voice, the emotions she’d carried within every time she’d heard his songs. And now this man, David, was taking the place of those memories, and the feelings consuming her were like nothing she’d ever experienced.
Who was he and where were these feelings coming from?
“Touch me,” she whispered and it came out with a sigh as she drew in a ragged breath.
Lightly circling around her nipples, his fingers teased her and she bit her lip. Her body ached, wanting him. Lighter circles around her stomach gradually trailed down to the fine hair between her thighs. She clenched her thighs, fighting the sweet sensations building and pulsing. In the distance, the music gentled and a soft, dreamy song drifted across to them.
“I need you.” Her voice was full of the need pulsing through her. “Now.”
He rolled on top of her with a groan and braced himself with his hands before plunging into her in one swift movement. An unfamiliar guttural sound came from her throat as she clenched around him. She rocked with him, lifting her hips in time with his thrusts, almost making their own music as the heat between them built to a crescendo. It rolled to one long glorious swell that gushed heat and music through her body and soul.
When their eyes met, she smiled and succumbed to him, giving in to the exquisite waves overtaking her as David groaned and buried his warm mouth in her neck.
Megan smiled and let his music take her under.
##
“Megan?” His voice was soft against her ear and she smiled.
“Mm?”
She savoured the slickness of David’s hot and slippery skin on hers. A deep contentment filled her and she kept her eyes closed, not wanting to think about what had happened, but just to live in the moment and enjoy it.
But it had to end.
A cool breeze raised goose bumps on her skin as David pulled away and knelt beside her. His face was in the shadows and she couldn’t see his expression.
But when he spoke his words were soft and calm. “I should apologise but I’m not going to. That was an amazing thing that just happened between us.” He touched her shoulder and then gently ran his hand through her hair. “I want you to know, no matter what garbage I said at the cottage the other night, I don’t do this.”
“It was the most beautiful moment of my life. Did you feel the music?” Megan rolled to her side, untroubled by her nakedness. From the soft sounds drifting across to them, they were not alone in their pursuits of the night.
David looked around and picked up her shirt and passed it to her. “Yes, I did.”
“It was a perfect setting. Tell me. Am I dreaming?” Her voice sounded dreamy to her and she rolled her T-shirt up and put it under her head. It was unlike her not to be self-conscious and she stretched, savouring the soreness of her muscles.
But as she stretched the physical tug of sensation broke into her dreamy state, and doubt seeped in.
Megan bit her lip. Had it all been a dream? Had she really experienced that sublime moment?
Has the whole day been one glorious dream?
“Did I just make the most beautiful love with David Morgan or am I dreaming of Davy Morgan?” Her voice was still dreamy and her eyelids were heavy. She couldn’t keep them open much longer.
“No.” David’s voice broke into her sleepiness and reassured her. “That was for real. Are you okay?”
She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “I just need a little nap.”
He laid her jeans beside her. “I’ll just go tell the guys I’m taking you…home…and then I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured sleepily and closed her eyes.
##
A blackbird trilled at the promise of dawn and Megan woke. Despite the cold, a pleasant languor filled her body but she looked down in confusion, covering herself with both hands.
Oh my God, I’m lying stark naked on the grass next to a stream. She sat up and looked around but there was no one in sight. She put on her shirt and knelt by the brook. After a quick wash with the cold water, she pulled her jeans back on. Her shoes were still back in the field by that huge rock and the pink hat was long gone. Bemused, she sat beside the babbling brook and waited for David. The sun climbed higher and touched the fields with the rosy glow of dawn, but he didn’t come back.
Where was he? He’d told her to wait here, but she had no idea how long she’d slept or how long he’d been gone. She waited another few minutes before pushing herself to her feet. Following the brook, she wandered over a small hill. Music was still blaring from the stage, but a different band was playing. As she watched, she remembered being with David for most of the night, though time had lost all meaning for her.
But had they really been together or had she just dreamed about David?
Or Davy?
As she looked across the fields, her vision swam for a second, and the ground tipped beneath her feet. Had they given her some drug when she’d been in that tent earlier? Had she hallucinated? Megan shook her head in confusion, not knowing w
hat was real or what was a dream.
She looked around through the crowds at the front of the stage, but there was no sign of David or his band. She’d recognised his drummer and the guitarist as the two men from the pub the other day.
As a shaft of golden light lit the stage in front of her, the music stopped and the voice of the announcer came scratchily through the loudspeaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you David Bowie, who will herald in the dawn of the summer solstice.”
Bloody hell. Megan turned around swiftly and the simple piano chords of an early David Bowie song drifted across to her as he encouraged all the sleepyheads to wake up.
She listened and shook her head in bemusement.
What a strange choice of a song for Bowie to play at Glastonbury 2011.
“Oh! You Pretty Things” was one of his songs from the early seventies and had never been that popular. In fact, it had been from before he’d hit the big time. And it must have been a last-minute decision to have him appear. He hadn’t been on her ticket or in any of the promos she’d read about the festival.
What an amazing bonus.
She squinted.
It must be some sort of act or cover show? It couldn’t be Bowie. The singer seated at the piano was dressed in seventies clothes and had a seventies wig on to emulate Bowie’s early glamour look. She knew he’d played at one of the earliest Glastonbury concerts in the seventies—she’d come across that in her research. Maybe it was a re-creation for this festival?
But still she listened and closed her eyes. The singer copied the song brilliantly. His rendition was perfect.
When the song ended, Megan stepped to the side and looked around for David. She had no idea where he had disappeared to but she was determined to settle in and enjoy the music. She was at Glastonbury and she wanted to enjoy every second, no matter what strange things had happened to her.
She’d heard terrific music, had vivid, crazy dreams, and great sex…and she was not going back to the cottage until the music stopped…despite having bare feet and no money. Looking around, she grinned…she fit right in with the hippie crowd.
Chapter Thirteen
David cursed as he shoved through the group of people blocking the entrance to the large tent Holly had hired for them behind the stage. Finally, with much elbowing and muttering, he got past the crowd and entered the dim space. The sweet smell of dope met him and he frowned. Bear was sitting on a camp chair and Slim was asleep on the ground behind him.
“Did you bring my guitar down off stage?”
Bear inclined his head to the back of the tent. David walked over and reached for his guitar, which was resting on his kit bag.
“Thanks. Where’s Holly?” He frowned at Bear and gestured to the joint between the drummer’s fingers. “You know how I feel about that when we’re performing.”
Bear pointed to the corner of the tent. Holly was curled up on a blanket with her eyes closed. “Don’t worry. Chill out, she’s fine.”
David put his guitar to one side and dug in his bag for a clean black T-shirt. “I’m taking Megan home.”
“I thought you already had. Couldn’t you find her? You’ve been gone for hours.”
David pulled the shirt over his head. He was already regretting what had happened now that he was away from her. He turned away and spoke gruffly. “Yeah, took a while to find her.”
Bear put the joint up to his mouth and inhaled deeply.
“Get rid of that. We’re back on stage in a couple of hours.” David lifted up the flap of the tent. “And look after Holly.”
“Who put you in charge, man?” Bear waved the glowing tip at him.
“No one. But after what happened to our last publicist, someone here has to be smart or everything will go to shit. You want to make some money or what?”
“All right, all right.” Bear pushed the joint into the ground. “I need to get some sleep, anyway, if we’re doing a few sets later.”
“I’ll be back well before the first one. We can’t stuff this up. There’s too much riding on this festival. We’ve got to make up for what that fucking journalist wrote. I’ve a good mind to sue the paper.”
Slim sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I’ll watch out for Holly. Don’t worry she’s not into the hard stuff. Just a bit of weed. You go and do whatever it is you have to do.” The tall, lanky guitarist pushed himself up from the ground in one lithe movement and followed David out of the tent. “So it was her?”
David nodded and stared across the field in the direction of their two cottages. “It was. I don’t know how the hell she did it, but I have to get her back before she realises and freaks out.”
“Or before you lose her,” Slim said.
“I can’t afford to lose her. Who knows where she’d end up? I shouldn’t have left her but she fell asleep.” David knew he’d said too much already, and he grabbed Slim’s shoulder. “Thanks, mate. I know I can rely on you.” He gave him a wave and headed back along the towpath to the river.
His first priority was to get Megan back through the time gate and convince her she’d been at the current Glastonbury Festival and she had dreamed the rest…or something.
Including the hot sex. That had been one huge mistake.
I shouldn’t have touched her. But I couldn’t help myself.
His chest was heavy with regret. It was easy to be sorry after the event. He’d sworn he would never get involved with a woman again.
He didn’t do relationships, period. The way he lived his life, it was too hard.
Casual sex, yes. Heavy emotional stuff, no. But a connection had been forged between them the minute he’d tripped over her. It wasn’t just her beauty that attracted him. Her face was transparent and she carried a sadness that tugged at his heart. A familiar feeling of wanting to protect overwhelmed him and he swore softly.
Christ, will I never learn?
Especially not with someone who was living next door to him, for fuck’s sake. Someone who obviously had problems of her own. And someone who’d followed him through the stones. He rubbed his hand across his jaw, the stubble grazing his fingertips. He had to try to get her back to the cottage without her realising what had happened, and then he would cut all contact with her.
Once he’d gotten her back safely through the time gate, he’d come back here and stay here until the festival was over, and she went back to Australia. He knew it was the coward’s way out, but there was no way he was putting himself in temptation’s way again.
He groaned. He’d had no control over his response once she’d put her hands on him. For a moment he was tempted to leave, forget the festival, and go back to his island.
But he couldn’t let the band down. Their fame and glory was ahead of them. He’d had his but he couldn’t ruin the band’s by changing today—by changing the past.
He pulled his thoughts to the present and looked ahead as he strode along the side of the narrow brook. No one else was around now that it was light and he finally approached the place where he’d left Megan fast asleep. He fought the anticipation curling in his stomach at seeing her again. Hopefully, she was awake and dressed.
But she was gone. No sign of her.
Fuck. He was sure he was in the right place.
Ten minutes later, he’d walked the path twice but there was no sign of her. He paused and looked down. The grass was flattened where he’d lain with her. He closed his eyes, fighting the fresh surge of desire that pumped through his blood.
Running his fingers through his hair in frustration, he walked back to the field where the main tent was set up.
The dawn light stole over Glastonbury Tor. They’d missed the perfect time for going through the gate, and now they’d have to go at midday. David slammed his fist onto his palm as he stood and turned slowly, searching the fields. A nagging fear settled in him and grew with each step he took.
I have to find her.
The early morning sunlight shone across the fields and the
crowd had grown overnight. Small tents and tepees had sprung up all over the fields between the cottages and the stages. Throngs of people were massed around each of the performance areas and the air was alive with music and the appreciative calls of the festival goers.
Where the fuck did she go?
Maybe she’d tried to walk back home? Maybe she was in the crowd somewhere? If she did know about the gate, maybe she’d gone back through already?
Wherever she was he had to find her, and quickly. Making a snap decision and trying to forestall the worst thing that she could do, he turned to cross the field back to the cottages. If she wasn’t there, he’d backtrack and come back to the festival. There was plenty of time before their ten o’clock set. If she’d gone back to the cottage and come across Alice McLaren, she’d think she was crazy. Maybe Jules’s ghost story would come in handy after all.
The low murmur of voices drifted across to him, and the sweet smell of dope pervaded the morning air as the smells and the bright morning light filled him with a buzz. Blood pumped through his legs and his muscles tightened as he strode out. Megan’s scent stayed with him and he could still feel her fingers gripping his shoulders. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he set out for the cottage.
Forget her. Get her home safely and leave her alone.
Keeping to the edge of the field and staying well away from the stone markers, David reached the back gate of his cottage in less than thirty minutes. A wisp of smoke curled from the chimney at Violet Cottage and he groaned.
With any luck, she had come back and gone to bed and not noticed anything was different.
Who was he kidding? It was 1971 and Alice was in Violet Cottage.
The whole flaming garden was different and as he crossed the porch, the lack of roses and the back porch with no furniture stood out like a beacon.
Christ, all it needed was a sign saying “welcome to 1971” and it couldn’t be more bleeding obvious that it was a different time.